“Oh how nature works well with our place in this space, oh how the pods of creatures comfort me when they come up to shred the pests of our day.
I know I talk about this topic quite often but I figure there’s a good story here and a parable to learn from.
I once took a long journey away from my friends and family and when I came back from the long arduous task, I carried myself as a scarred warrior who had seen a thing or two.
They didn’t recognize the human they last saw.
I returned with stories and tall tales and versions of what happened that were bigger than all of us.
They couldn’t believe a word I spat out, I had become convoluted within my own head they said.
I was out of my league my adversary kept telling me, and I would learn from my latest fall and get back up to prove my self right to a standard that felt righteous in it’s intent.
Unfortunately the truth if the matter was that my truth was frightful, it made the woman worry that they were doing the wrong thing to protect the children.
Without a firm grip on reality, everyone became worried about my vision proving the worst case scenario was true. They suggest the power of suggestion, I jest and entertain to distract the obvious, the scenes behind me made themselves up.
I felt it was obvious that we were under attack by some creeper in the back of the line, a social commentator troll counter sabotaging the whole scenario or maybe it was indeed something as simple as debt collectors getting what they came for.
It was terrifying indeed to see the riches people expected to disappear before their eyes.
We had to hire some help just to figure out what was gone and figure out how to pay the year off in less than a week.
There, at one moment, looked like a scam was being pulled off by some foreign entity, and I couldn’t put my finger on the moment well enough.
Had I figured everything out well enough to buffer the impact or was there enough comic relief in this fantastic story to learn before defeat?
I was sure it was not just my mom’s traditional conservative view on healing from the war on drugs.
I know it’s a long shot but let’s work together,
and quit pointing fingers,
I’ve trusted all of my friends to listen to at least the points of reality that affect our lowest common denominators.
I’m sick of the friendly fire,
and we know certain things to a certain extent,
do not be afraid to consider the walls needing to be torn down!
I’ve found that less barriers for trusted friends is what is best to figure this out from scratch.
I know we don’t have much to go on here but first make sure you understand how you are not a slave if you work with the Earth.
The world can wait for some superfluous conviction of truth but in the meantime, just take it with a grain of salt like that one moment that bottlenecked through the hourglass as I turned it over.
Now you might have the ability to see reality like me,
or can perceive one thing at a time,
so what does it look like when you leave a footprint on that piece of silicon?
Melt it down and show off that liquid Crystal display,
tell me how my identity is different now that I’ve grown past these certain points of lapse of reason.
My logic makes up for this and now you season that horsepower that is driving me is more than one and now these engineering thoughts are making some sense, or at least I hope so, that is if you can snap yourself out of this vortex.
I know my channel twirls and spirals out and speaks for itself, don’t be surprised if this story wakes up part of your gaurdian,
your higher self,
your keeper of spiritually sound sense, your wizard,
your cup when you have found hot water to steep the tea leaves for medicine healing.
Snap your fingers twice,
double tap your toe,
and click your heels three times.
How was your journey with me?
Did you learn something?
Did you rest your anxiety about me?
Did you happen to gain any insight?
Are you releived in any way shape or form?
Can I get you something to drink?
Here take a sip from my proverbial teacup, it’s got all the fixings of whatever your mind is craving, quenching whatever your soul thirsts for.
Now, ask me again, do you miss me?
Do you want me to go back to being the little boy I was before I left for my journey?
Or are you satisfied with knowing that I’ve learned a thing or two on this strange, off-the-beaten-path to enlightenment?
I’m not perfect,
never claimed to be.
But dear Lord,
I wish to be well received on coming through this cavern in the suburbs of the streets.
that’s only as far as I want to find my faith in humanity,
took to the streets and came back with a preisthood that answers to no one but God and everyone who chooses to listen.
I’m preaching now,
people think I’m singing gospels,
and if that helps one man find hope in choosing to stay here then,
I guess I don’t mind taking the high road today. “-Patrick Michael