Froopy Addendums

As hapless magicians bumble about in reckless confusion, we stand at before the abyss of our own uncertain future, unconvinced of our eternal infinite power. The deluge of nonsense must be overwhelming before anyone cares to mention we are drowning in our own debauchery. Still, amidst the bells and whistles of modern living, it could be argued that our wanton wastefulness is merely a phase in a series of phases that compromise the entirety of existence.

Really Bad Poem (with excruciatingly earnest intentions)

Lush is this textured trilobite
Amidst the glazed sunset
Love comes at the speed of light
And its good as it can get

Flush is more of what's not enough
Adrift in a haze of desire
Fulfillment is made of such stuff
Such a daze cannot acquire

Hush the world of reckless fervor
Absorbed with trivialities
Love comes at the speed of light
And forms everything we sees

"Wert thou more fickle than the restless sea,
Still should I love thee, knowing thee for such"
- William Morris (1834–1896)

Tiny Bubbles

Nary a fleeting moment goes by without some kind of judgment or assessment clouding our perception of reality as it truly is. This ability to 'color our world' with personal preference is the source of much consternation as far as our fellow human beings are concerned. Oh, folks talk about morality, standards of acceptability, values, blah, blah, blah, but the bottom line is that it all involves separating oneself from that which one perceives. Doesn't it just make sense that what one is experiencing is inherently a part of said individual's life, regardless of what mental calisthenics one engages to say "I am not that, and that is not me". Of course, what person wants to face the horrifying truth of either (A) All is one.,(B) All one sees is a direct reflection of who one is., (C) We are self-centered comfort-seekers regardless of the cost to our fellow planet dwellers, or (D) Chaos reigns and the illusions we create are far better than the true nature of things.

Kicking and a' gouging in the mud and the blood and the beer.

Poised to engage, we stand unfettered in our waking challenge. This world, seemingly tangible in our perception suits, is more akin to a house of mirrors than a rock flying around a giant ball of fire. Still, you can't have a roller coaster ride without a roller coaster, thus this is.

Often enough, we rise up through the rabbit hole rather than descend in our attempts to enlighten our dull wits rather than merely rattle them. Although these forays bring us useful information, the result leads us to the inescapable conclusion that one is either in or out, and there is not much play in that. If one is in, one strives to be out. If one is out, well... who knows? As a confirmed "innie", I am defined by my presence hereabouts.

Therefore, what not and where for become as valid as exacting scientific procedures insofar as ultimate meaning to our wriggling. The comfort of our perception suits is a means and an end in this scenario.

In Praise of Incompleteness

The furor over nothing consumes most humans constantly. Obsessed with desire and fear, entities psychically thrash about with little regard for cause and effect. So often, in this state of frenzied misdirection, damaging themselves as well as others nearby. Some even see their morass of confusion as some kind of normalcy! This is usually a result of being completely out of tune with nature and their own body/mind/soul. An unfortunate circumstance, at best, and downright evil, at it worst.

Souls in the know choose peace, love and understanding in the truest sense of each word. Acceptance and compassion are also integrated into a healthy psychological pattern that promotes unity over imbalance. However, it is pretty much a given that anyone lucky or smart enough to achieve this kind of satori, will eventually throw themselves back into the above mentioned foray as they realize that to be human is to be an non-evolved moron that needs to be dragged into the uncompromising light of truth. This is far more difficult than it may appear.

Resurfacing reality

Finding meaning in the whirlpool of time passing is an exercise in futility, yet it is our nature. The establishment of reason goes beyond mere survival. Our ability to grasp abstract concepts and apply them in a functional manner has proven to be both a blessing and a curse, depending on one's sense of propriety. As with most experiences, the interpretation of information is rather open-ended, so there is a tendency to see what one wishes to see in a given situation. Why one would wish to see things other than as they are is a matter for debate, but one's ability to do so is not in question.

The only real mirror is in the mind
Reflecting the essence of darkness and light
That which is separate is that which binds
And what one expects is just what one finds

Writhing Under A Velcro Sky

Makeshift analysis produces the usual catalog of errors, but there is little evidence available indicating a better procedure. Information is plentiful, but the proper associations across a wide variety of contexts could prove helpful in our current situation. But what to dream? The universe expands inwardly as well as outwardly from our zero point awareness, thus there are two paths one can experience in such transitions. Imagination races in reflection of future fantasies enacted, and yet one's very obliteration lies within these dramatizations, unbeknowst to the players. Still, a fabulous display of unity fragmenting.

Battlecry of the Easily Distracted

Presence fulfills while we sort out the details in this drama unwinding wildly before us now. No amount of wackiness can resist expression in the aforementioned tumult. This explains a lot, and yet leaves room for quirky conspiracy theories and the miscreants who celebrate them. The edges of lunacy are not defined by their bizarre nature as much as their lack of sanity. Granted, we have landed squarely in a clearly defined place and time, with a limited range of options and rather sketchy instructions as far as ultimate goals are concerned. Nonetheless, enriched by little more than faith, we stride into realms unknown while blowing our little horn of freedom.


I can't cry away the sadness
Locked inside my heart
It's just the usual madness
That tears me apart
There is no why to address
No reason to believe
Life is any more than a mess
We give and receive

I can't wipe away the memory
Of love and it's demise
Though I try to so hard to bury
All the dreams that went awry
There's no sense in regret
Yet I find myself sometimes
Wishing that we never met
Or to look into your eyes

I can't say I've made mistakes
When all paths lead to God
Bad times and lucky breaks
Are just part of growing up
Some say for goodness sake
We find a way to understand
That it's only love we make
But it's not at our command