Brief walks through hells, those were always inter-resting in an adrenal sense, since they all have passed.

Thus, “this too shall pass” makes scent that smells right.

We have lived, you and I, since when we remember living.

That’s all, really.

We have lived thus far and go further as we see or think or imagine. We be when we dream, so dreaming must be living, eh?

L-/*earn something new everyday, I always say.

Being, seeing and thinking and imagining, those we have done on earth

in our own memories, though those

are fragmented, mental fragmental elementals, from

childhood and beyond.

They came to us in the flow of things and now come to us in pieces
that seem to boil to the top of the watched pot.

Meaning what? Hell if I know, hell if I don’t. I know I can’t lose.

I am convinced. A watched pot never boils was a saying taught me young. I have regularly enjoyed proving it wrong.

Imagine this: go from an invincible Arizona country boy pubescence to

an adultish, wedded-with-children, weakened, warrior working on Reagan’s Star War in the span of two decades, and see if that don’t make reality spin.

My friend, as bad as things have been is as bad as things have been imagined,

but you know worse.

Right. You know the worst is yet unknown, or you say so.

That’s your reality. Imagine that brought to light in your realm,

good king of all you rule.

What rule, good king, shall we agree is needed to

set things right? What lies do you tell as

learned or earned by right? Fear, and follow the invisible guide?

Fear to frighten them, with what? First we need imagine pain serving wrong,

with rewards and pun-ish-ing ish und isha mit sex.

Oh, yeah, Google through the roof, erotic myth-ticism circum

cising reality.

We do that sort of thing because we can think

in word strings and

we

can

think

in

word

stacks.

This is a poem, a song. Not a mythical place in some character’s imagination. This is in the book of life you find yourself bound up in,

or is it the book you are looking for and have not found?
Pass it around. Care. Share the mystery, not the lie, since they all have passed. Thus, “this too shall pass” makes scent that smells right.

We have lived, you and I, since when we remember living. We add value, wee words spoken soft.