Intelligence?

To question life…search for answers…is this what it means to be intelligent life?
Do we assign the term intelligent to what we have here? If someone were to come and tell you the truth, that what you see is not real, would you believe them? Would you need to see the truth in order to believe?

This is faith. One day long ago there was a time when people only had faith and that was enough. One day long ago people had each other and that was enough. What happened to that day, that time? What happened to society that would lead for the need to question and not believe in the possibilities. Personally ( as you may have known), I am all about the questions…the ones that need no answers. The questions that resinate in the Soul.

Deep down we need no truths…they are deep within…that is why the “unknown” does not paralyze us with fear. Think about what is out there and add in the certainty. 

Reassured?

There are some who live with this certainty… must be freedom.

Only Questions

I sit and ponder my journals for hours. Trying to make sense of the senseless questioning. That is what I do. I question. I question and turn the words into poetry (if I’m lucky), sometimes an essay (if it makes sense),and sometimes nothing at all (commonly). Simply words.

 Tonight is different. My journal is making me confused. I sit here unable to focus. There is a sense of sadness, melancholia, for nothing more than waiting. Waiting for the answers to the questions.  And then the thought emerges, “perhaps my answers are answered”. Did I think out loud? I suppose I did. 

Perhaps my answers are answered, I am simply unaware of the truth, or the answers to my queries. It seems I drift to a place in my mind where the line is blurred between reality and imagination. This place we all know… it is the place from which our dreams come and then go… We watch the dreams pass by, forgetting before the meaning has a chance to resonate. 

The answers are there… 

 

The shadow of awareness divided…

 

“why do I love?”

“why do I hate?” 

“what is the meaning of all which comes my way?”

“what is the reason to my questioning?”

“why be awake to a life with little to no meaning?”

Why indeed… 

What good comes from questioning? Existence. For what have you if not the questions? It is indeed fun, the thoughts which arise are important. They cause so much in the way of life, yet they leave you wanting, waiting, for a glimpse behind the shadow of awareness.

 

I have always been a believer, “a knower”. I know what I know… it has been a journey through and through. Be it God. Be it faith. Be it Life, Reason, Truth. It is my truth. It is… and I know.  I know the purpose is to question. Ask and keep asking…and then there are times when I stop, I stop and think and question some more…

 

“why are there only questions?”

 

This time spent questioning has filled my mind with memories. I remember the first time I thought about God. I remember when I was aware of life and death. I remember thinking about my Soul. My life. My philosophies. As all these things began to formulate into my beliefs… into who I am. I remember. I am happy to remember. To be able to think and question with no answers. To believe in who I am and all the crazy things I believe are real… I am happy. 

 

“why are there only questions?”

That’s why 🙂

Yesterday’s Tomorrow

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Walking towards tomorrow,

Slowly coming to a pause

Staring at the face of a stranger

One who remembers,

One who is lost…

“Leave behind the facade,” She whispers

“Forget today the meaning of why, remember who you are, wake the Soul inside…”

 

Walking away from yesterday

Taking moments time to reflect

A glimpse of an old face, a distant place

One which has yet to rest.

“A minute seems like years,” He states

“Moments in eternities, time is an uncertainty…”

“Remember my friend, and take this to your stage… remember my life, for meaning is worth little when the play has yet to arise…”

 

Standing in this moment,

Before the fork of time.

One path brings tomorrow,

One can bring back time…

 

For now I shall wait at yesterday’s tomorrow

For now I shall stay,

In Now…

All I want is…

“All I want is to recieve what I deserve…”

One  must be careful for what one asks for…  

Who determines what one recieves… do we? And if so… how can I place this judgement upon myself, how can I be objective? And yet, how can I ask someone outside of my life to understand my needs? How could I trust in another? This would put each as individuals in charge and responsible for our actions… we would be responsible and held accountable to ourselves. It is easy to put blame in an outside world, an outside force. “It is out of our hands” so to speak. It is easy to blame others for what is lacking, it is simpler to lose focus and watch, rather than take action and responsibility…

All I want is what I deserve…

Do I deserve happiness… whose to say if not I?

Do I deserve peace? Whose to say if not I?

Do I deserve pain? Whose to say if not I….

Could one be unbiased? Could one rise above individual needs? Could you? I know not, in this time and place… if I could.

Mush

What do I want to write about?  This seems to be the issue of the moment. I have been sitting here working on five different essays… all revolving around a similar point. A point which I fail to see…Intelligence, Judgement, Worth, Purpose and Meaning. While all the issues are large and complex… I find myself going back and forth between them.  One thought comes to mind, then lapses… finding it seemingly hard to make a point for argument, a point of reason or any point at all… Mush…

I sit here, coffee in hand,  listening to the rythm of the background music (aka elevator music), watching the locals enter the coffee shop, I drift… to and fro in the mush… my words, people, seemingly unrelated movements, seemingly unconnected realities… what makes these thoughts evolve… what makes this essay take shape?

Couples young and old lazily conversing… The father out for an early dinner with his daughter, individuals wrapped in thought, the employees seemingly busy behind the counter are as detached from their work as I am from mine… 

Then there are the technologies practically attatched to the bodies of so many… distractions.  Some sit and do as I do, write (or try to)… some listen to their music, some sit and watch their computers… some sit and read… some simply eat and stare off into their universe. Interesting to see so many different realities… so many connections made with little or no awareness of myself. I sit and write about my surroundings, about all the strangers I do not know… and yet I do know them in my world… I imagine their lives from their actions, from their behaviors and from my thoughts, my imagination…  observing is what makes these situations real in my world. For how else can I experience it without imagining it…  seemingly unrelated movements, seemingly unconnected realities… are connected for my mind. Here in my universe all the randomness makes sense, all the chaos is explained to my curious mind…

Mush…

I wonder what point I am trying to make… perhaps sometimes there is no point at all… perhaps sometimes  we must simply observe and imagine… perhaps the unrelated and unconnected are not and we simply fail to see

Or perhaps it is just mush…

Those Places

My mind goes back.

Memory pays respect to those places

My heart goes back.

Melancholy carries on to those places

My soul speaks in tongues .

They open the gateways of shadow to those places

 

Kneeling

Before them in those places

They speak so clear

So clear I can hear

I can understand

I can understand their foreign tongue

In their foreign land

The land for which I long

The land from which I belong

 

My words do not come forward for I can not speak

I visit those places

The places from which we come

I wish to be home

My heart

My soul

MySelf

I

I shall say farewell to those places again

For now

But not for long

Connected

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Life with Death                              

Anger with acceptance

Peace with hate                              

Knowledge with ignorance

Happiness with despair                

Fear with freedom

Together yet alone                          

Purposeful yet lost

 

In the smallest of fragments we are one

In the most hidden particles we touch

In the most remote thoughts we meet

We may be blind

We may be deaf

We may be simple

We may be blessed


The war rages on… the battles fought for ignorance… the struggle for one to see… the veil and mirror break… one day we will see. Connected we may be…