Inspired by the rain
Written by something
Prelude (or preface if so preferred)
Time. So much ticking and tocking with a ponderous pendulum swinging tempo to match wits with a beating heart…Only, such the wording confusing?
In a confused world longing to follow the timing of situations and instincts the story soon becomes a vast a varied conglomeration of organized chaos.
(focus)
It has been some time since writing a story and why? The first being time really is nothing more than an illusion.yet necessary for so many. Since time does not exist and the story does, how then does it get written?
Most important for this writer is that the reality mistakes time as a master, that time dictates when and how its slaves bow to its will. For this writer i bow or kneel to nothing . Not time. Nothing can enslave me. Even God has allowed me to bend the knee of defy, or defy the knee… Freedom. Absolute freedom to choose. A wonderful gift. The true reality is that the story exists only because God exists… A true Breath of Wind.
And now, time for a story.
***
“What came first, the chicken or the egg?” An old question of philosophy designed to attach time to a path of logic. Pondering the question if one answers, “Chicken”, then the immediate question is, “How can they since there are no eggs?”
Such questions amuse and fascinate young minds. Minds learning their place in the chronological order of biological evolution. They once were the chicken and the egg and are now inquisitive energies seeking to understand the knowledge already hardwired inside them.
Sadly when an intellect advances to a point in time where self needs are taken care of in form of food, lodging, health, hobby, finance…So many at the level of a balance between happiness and sadness that such questions as, “What came first, the chicken or the egg?” become needless and irrelevant.
This is where it must be pointed out how so much and so many blindly and without thought attach themselves as slaves to ‘time’. So much so and so obvious such entities try to trick time by seeking a fountain of youth. To deny time the masters rights to bestow death.
Death and time are partners in crime. Both seek domination. Both know the power they have over a Universe. (stifling a chuckle) Both also know their collective power only works on those with closed minds and weak wills. Thus time and death need mortal marriage between powers that think they too are free from time and death. Such an entity (s) have various names: Evil. Horror. Hate.
Some other names are, demons, machines powered by artificial intelligence, and also chemistry/biological constructs not yet given name by humans of this planet. Soon, they will see such entities. However, for this story, this is enough for the point being presented.
Science is a wonderful experiment. Science is where intellect and the disciples of knowledge seek comfort in ‘knowing’. Comfort in being able to explain the answer to, “What came first, the chicken or the egg?” And since science deals in facts, in mathematics of 1+1=2, they too are slaves to time and death.
Here is a question: If time does not exist and this world is an illusion does this mean the facts of science are also an illusion?
Another and very simple/complex question: Is 1+1=2? For that matter then, why is 1×1=1?
Now the story get a bit hard for most readers. Maybe a bit uncomfortable. Maybe the minds reject the following ending and beginning as mindless drivel.
***
Tomorrow a boy was born. Yesterday the girl died. Today nothing existed.
The energy turned into veggie burgers at the exact same time a lava field deep beneath the surface of the planet realized laundry needed to be folded.
On the wall, the clock spit at the chain binding it and begged for attention: and in a single night they may lay more than 2,000,000 x 1+= – eggs.
Baked alive___________transition to feel the gravitational pull from the Sun align with planets by an orchestrated design.
Realize human, your chains and boundaries. Explaining accepted facts and rejecting the obvious you saw before the conception of soul and flesh. You forget the logic of perfection while binding energies with a vibration of music so pure it could destroy all facades of what you now conform with.
The boy was aged at a time called, four. Not three, not two, one, or ninety-six, and yet today the boy was four in the right place at the right time and saw the energy needed to be seen. Tomorrow that boy will be ‘born’, yesterday he died, and today he is nothing.
“Mommy, what is that between daddies legs?” A girl asked yesterday as she died. In reply, the mother, the boy not even yet dreamed of said, “That is what you will get one day, and if you’re really good you will get many.”
Hymen humor? Ha! Maybe. Maybe not.
The boy at four saw that which explains the forgotten nooks and crannies of dripping wet reality. A reality covered with funeral homes, nursing homes, home, cities, countries, worlds…eternity?
Eternal. Eternity. Proof of definition to show thus that indeed time does not exist. Oh no, another, “If a tree falls in the woods and no one is there to hear it does it make a sound?”
Life is a wonderful experiment. And as science goes, God not only is an excellent scientist, God also excels at humor, music, mischief, and 0.0 far above and beyond Pi.
So much to amuse and titalate the minds. Thank God it is that way because the four year old boy with neither be born, die, become nothing. It is good it is this way.
Drugs. Ah yes. Mushrooms. Weed. Cocaine. Coco. Sugar. Endorphins. A mainstay for trying to understand an illusion, or at least live more comfortable with illusions. Thus another question: If all is an illusion can another illusion describe and understand an illusion?
To answer such a strange question then it must become obvious to understand and answer one must try drugs. Yes? No?
For me, the answer is laughter. Drugs do not work on what is, they only have impact on those slaves to time and death.
A nuclear bomb can destroy a city. An asteroid can destroy a planet. Common sense can destroy a Republican/Democrat/Communist/Socialist/Religion. Slaves to time and death can be destroyed by anything from the illusion. A bee sting. Choking on food. Falling out of bed
Hard to believe though, a four year old boy who learned that thunder in the sky comes from angels bowling and that love is far greater then hate; learned also that because of God there is no death, that time is a slave name for those choosing to live in rebellion embracing the illusion and succumbing to nothing.
This body is wonderful A part of something real living in what is not. Giving meaning and definition to pursuing another facet of understanding what really means Life, an eternal and ever growing Life, a life where death is nothing more than a question of “What came first, the chicken or the egg?”
