Drug Crazed Haze: The Final Chapter
I love spring. Spring makes the world turn green again. I live to be green again. I used to see the entire world as green, but I grew up. Now the world looks brown. But it isn’t the world’s fault. It’s mine. I let my world turn brown. I let the brilliant bright colors in my life fade to gray. I’m a gray man. I have no future. I always thought that I might die young. And I keep getting older. What a disappointment.
You know the real baseball season starts next week. And it’s still chilly here like every year. I look forward to the sun being out longer. I haven’t walked in the park in months. I hear people outside my window. I used to be so paranoid. I can’t get over the thought of walking away. My lungs keep expanding and collapsing. I heard there’s a new word born everyday. I feel for the children without shelter. Two plus two equals four. How did we get to this point? Who decided that 2 was 2 and it equals something called four. I declare 2, huggymass. Huggymass rankdaisle huggymass frankenguice muglemagley. You see. You see.
What if a man was religious and he believed in something called Christ. And the religion this Christ was associated with disliked men who associated with men in sexual terms. Would that religion permit that man to commit to another man in the eyes of that Christ associated with that religion? What if the terms could not be disassociated, the feelings disconnected? Would that man be right in his commitment to the religious group he has so long affiliated himself with? Is it prudent? Is it healthy?
I love donuts. I believe I have the right to eat. If I could I would disassociate with law, with law that disregards my right to fullness. Why should I starve on truth that disregards my health. Shouldn’t I find reason to consider the truth, false? If my lungs burn from the air, should I not have the right to suffocate? If death, hell is an option, might I be permitted to partake of it? I have never smelled a rose so sweet.
Who says what? The truth is reformed, reshaped by persuasion of its believers. There was a leaf that was dead and lay on the ground and the wind blew it across a field and it had no seeds to plant. So, it died. Survival of the fittest. Transformation. Those that can not adapt will perish. They all will fall by and disappear. Adapt. Adaptation. Redefinition. Reformation. And there goes new truth.
Go back. Or redefine. Take back. Retrace. Old steps. Equals death. Christ is not truth. Christ is rebirth, redefinition. Phoenix. Change. The more things change, the more things remain the same. There is no such thing as linear thought. There is only spatial thought, thought defined my space, length, measurement. Space can not be backtracked.
You pace about the floor. You walk about the same space, and yet each step between step is different from the step taken before. It looks the same, but it’s completely different. The home you leave in the morning is not the home you come to at night. It has changed and you do not even notice. It is somewhere different. You were able to measure your way back. But where you went to is where you started from, and where you started from is completely different from where you last stood. You are not where you began. Where you sleep is not where you wake up. It never was.
You can never go home again. You can never go back to the beginning. You would have to be faster than truth. You would have to be greater than reality. To survive, one must learn to adapt. One must learn to redefine reality. That is the Passion of Redefinition. The Passion of Reformation. The Passion of Rededication. Redefinition of the truth. You can never take the same path twice. Renewal.
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