No Direction

The weight of life is taking more of a toll on me then ever. With the cool summer breeze rolling off of the sand strewn streets, my thoughts race with the anticipation of adventures yet to happen. At first my mind may  recoil from the unknown and seek safe refuge in comforts and the simple sweet smoke that numbs and blends reality with my subconscious desires of life. The ultimate goal of any seeker is freedom. Buddhist philosophy tried to sum this up as freedom from desire. However, our desire binds us to our corporeal being and it may not be as simple as trying to obtain divinity on Earth, but as simple as living purely in our most natural form. Freedom comes with the cost of knowing our transience will keep us from bonding to one another. So here I lay, with one eye on the future and the other scanning frantically in the dark of the past. Searching for a clue, searching for signs of my bondage, my chains that deny me the freedom of the seekers and wanderers. The mal-contents that shape the world with their revolutionary sparks. Where do I stand with the figures of legend? Does a goal become obsolete once it is spoken or merely thought? Is freedom the absence of direction? I could wander the lanes of time for an eternity with no direction. Without direction, there is nowhere to go and I find myself once again struggling with the dualistic nature of life. Where once was not, there now is. Good and evil, light and dark, one does not exist without the other. I do not choose one, yet recognize I do not walk a middle path. Evil, black, dark, vile and beautiful, you captivate me like a lover with your twisted branches. Good you are pure, there can be no denying your strength, Plato’s truest forms cannot do you justice. I am a being of life, death is the illusion. I can only hope that someday this book is discovered buried in the rubble of our civilization and the first to clear the dust and open these pages will be inspired. I can take satisfaction by knowing that ultimately I inspired myself. A million copies of my being are perpetuated every day, every moment, with every thought. My soul, my DNA, my essence is individual and shared, I am Human. We stand on the shoulders of ourselves and give birth to ourselves. So back to the beginning, I am searching, searching, and searching in vain for answers that do not exist. When you strip away everything, peel away the constructs of existence there is only one true question, WHY?

Paradox: The Quest for Good and Evil