Sublimation

Here are four pieces for the price of one and in no particular order...

When the morning came I took number 5 with me to find coffee. We sat in a diner that was mostly empty and didn’t say much as we sipped away at our steaming brews.

My favourite time of day is before breakfast, I get to drink coffee without feeling guilty.

“What does the Queen of Sheba walk like?” said number 5 taking out her makings to roll a smoke.

“I don’t know,” I said, “but when you define the mystery it is no longer the mystery.”

“Oh,” she said, puffing away on her smoke.

We smoked in peace for a while and I found it to be a good conversation. Yes, the first coffee of the day is my favourite time.

Being a decision maker is not something I care for much, so when she asked me: “What do we do next?” I couldn’t say.

So I said: “Nothing.”

“Oh,” she said, and said no more. She was my kind of girl.

CONFLATED INSECURITY

“Did you bring any pizza?” said Old Nick to me as I picked myself up and dusted off my by now ragged clothes.

“Fraid not,” I said, looking into his hot and bothered eyes.

“Too many foreigners getting in here for free,” he said as he sauntered away, hands behind his back and leaving me to kick my heels or whatever.

A swept-through with the perfume of an old baby breezed past slowly and ruffled my hair a little bit. On looking around to see what was what I felt a hand doing a pick-pocket routine on me; but I had nothing left to steal, and I didn’t care anymore. So I walked off to see if I could get a cup of tea somewhere and enquire about the next bus out of here.

IN MY SEAT

I sat in the amphitheatre with the crowd and waited for him to speak. Attempting to paraphrase something of what he said without notes is not easy when you have the memory the size of a peanut.

The best expectancy of joy in any moment comes from an expression deep within that bubbles up and out and has no other limitation than itself to be felt.

So when the master enables you to find that in yourself and then speaks from that place there is a connection of such beauty the heart rises and wins through the Maya to sing out in gratitude. And so the life expectancy of joy is dependent upon staying in the feeling place of where joy comes from; and for those who don’t know, you have to ask for it.

It’s quite a thing to sit in a seat for an hour and listen to the teacher talk about the amazing beauty of your heart. It’s uplifting; and after it’s over you take with you a feeling of something special and profound and how amazing it was to have been there.

But If there's nothing more to be said then it is time to move on and leave behind whatever was meant by it all and let something else be so under the stars for while they shine. For when all's said and done there's no point repeating the same stuff over and over like some parrot on a stick or some record stuck in a groove.

OSMOSIS

“Some say that the best time to tell a story is when you have nothing to say, and in fact, when you shut-up and stop complaining in negative mode then just maybe from out of the blue a story may come all by itself.

When you grab the edge of the world with your bare hands and pull mightily many things will fall out onto the life you are living, you can then sweep them the territory they belong.

Are there not ten thousand unanswered questions marching in step deep inside you and are they not all clamouring to be heard? And are you not the commander in chief of your existence where you can pick and choose where to put your attention.

But such a lot of questions.

You do know don’t you that there’s a dragon in a cave ready to wake up and burn all the questions away and all you have to do is to command it so.

Ah, but I see you are confounded or you would have done it by now.

So your head is filled with stuff you can’t deal with, but look, the roses grow just for you and the rainbow is only for your eyes to touch the wonder inside; and though your time is so short the garden blooms just for you to walk in; and if you let it the wind will blow away all that weighs you down so you can dance again.

Now, isn’t that something?

And so you look up to see who it is that speaks to you and find it is you. Hey, now we’re getting somewhere and woo-hoo and eureka, what a great team we are together, with me who loves to tell stories and you listening and writing them down; and now that we’ve started why would we ever stop? Just make sure that there are plenty of writing materials and a special place we can be undisturbed.

Oh, and once we begin a story carry it through to the end because if you stop before the end you could find it hard to pick up the threads again and carry it on in the same vain it was mined from.

And best to keep me to yourself, don’t go telling everyone about the voice in your head, most people will look at you funny and others may try to get you to see someone who will medicate you and then you won’t be able to hear me so well, if at all, and then you’ll be lost in a mist wandering trying to find yourself, so keep me to yourself and we’ll be fine.

Now, what shall we write about?

If you want to make yourself smile then embrace your own insanity, but the conclusion paradox in a narrow moment of return will not advance you one inch in the realms of timeless time. This is a conformity that has too many boundaries and will leave you stuck where you stand in the machine with too many ghosts.

Anti-gravity on the other hand has much to say beyond this and may even give you an answer, although what you can do with said answer outside of the moment is anyone’s guess but each to their own and said answer may lead you to your dreams so sometimes you have to follow it.

Pressurisation in these circumstances could leave you breathless and confounded by your own mortality where no amount of numericity will ease the weight of your burden and at risk of sounding anarchic as in the Gas-Taylor theory of revelation where there are more upsides than the downs in the verisimilitudes of expostulation that this may be so.

I would also say: don’t get carried away without a way back, but if you are found lost and wandering alone in the expansion gap it may be time to plead your case; although you may not have much credence if they find a fifth of a puddle in your shoe; just don’t answer yes when they ask you if your friend is real.

And now without further ado...

In a passage of many turns to be told to the next bidder there are many things forgotten, but alien conspiracies aside there’s an argument for love beyond the daily grind and however you map it out, remember that the space is only rented to dance through the layers. Ah, I see you’ve brought flowers and a little chip on a plate and the occasional noise; do you have a message for me? Never mind.

When the parallel of belief to the truth is upsetting you in the confines of your boundaries there might be some confusion; this is to be expected for how else could it be?

But if the truth is not far away you could be closer than you think and for what you have forgotten you will be forgiven and for what you have lost it will be returned to you, so when you come face to face with your fear throw in an old turnip and whatever else you’ve got and we’ll have a soup extrapolated from the dust, and don’t forget to bring an umbrella in case it rains,” said Mong the Bong to his shaving mirror and began to grin from ear to ear.

Image from Pixabay