An Origin of Life

Chaos bore Time and Space.  Time and Space greeted eons ago and spoke.  In union, they birthed Beginning and End.  Beginning ever sought End, who in turn sought Beginning, each continually becoming one another.  From this union was born Now.  Now, seeing Beginning, knew that it would soon meet End, and with this realization, Future came to Now.  From this union, came Then.  Then bore Past, whom bore Nostalgia to ever lure Now away from itself.  Now, trapped by Nostalgia and Past, becoming Then, looked to Future for guidance.  Thus, Fear was born.  And ever onward, where End and Beginning assume one another was forever obscured from the view of Now, by Fear.  Time, Space, and Chaos saw this, and, coming together, created Life.  Life unified Past, Now, and Future.  But End watched this Beginning, and in jealousy of it and Life, created Death.  So Death chased Life as Beginning chased End and each forgot that they were the other.

And so we are here, beings born from chaos, time, and space.  Our purpose is to keep the strands together.  Be wary of Nostalgia and tarry not in the past.  Neither should you look too far ahead, lest you allow Fear to cloud judgments.  Remember that Death is only that-which-is-but-is-not, and upon leaving this place one becomes as the wind- unseen but ever-felt.

(?)tion

I have too many wants and desires and wishes and dreams and they grow daily and I’m sure the me’s within me could fill hundreds of shoes.  How do I choose?  To which Self does this life belong?  Why are the most destructive paths the easiest?  How can I become free from my many I’s?  Perhaps it is only a matter of leaving many paths unfinished or finishing only one.  I refuse to kill off parts of me if it is just the one.  Our bodies are rentals, our possessions are chains, but what is the mind?  You don’t like a shirt, remove it.  But your mind- the way it works, if it works at all- is not a shirt.  The struggle is internal- and that world all counterweights and pulleys and ropes and only your two-armed mind to hold it all.

Often I find myself wondering if I was like this before.  Before.   Before what?

Before this present moment? When did I subconsciously mark a transitional point?  How can so many exist within only one?

The dismantling comes before the reconstruction.  I can’t remove my mind, nor do I wish too.  But I think sometimes too that dismantling is easy, so we continue to do just that.  And then we forget how to reconstruct.  Maybe it is even that we no longer wish to.

I feel so much and yet it is remarkable how I seem to feel so little.

I am tired of questions, my mind is full of them.

And all lay unanswered as empty shoes.