Friday, April 5, 2013

Questions From A Room That We Believed To Be Off-Camera

I go through shifts…
…Actually they’re more like swerves…
Moods fluctuate from serenity and stability
To paranoia and indignity

I fly above the choral reefs…
Always pausing briefly to hear the
Chime of their inscribed song…

In such a moment, at such a place…
I wonder, I dwell…and am sent afar…to some invisible place

Can one reverse that which has already occurred?
Can he will the fates away, insist they gouge out a path for some other frayed child of abandon?
Is destiny designed, truly, with unrelenting accuracy…if so,
Then how can we be expected to change?

Perhaps this is all but a game…
Where we each have a specialized role to play,
Some grand performance, meant to entertain some
Ancient and alien breed…

If such is so…. then why, did I accept such a character to play…or did I ever truly have a say?

It often feels as if every movement we make were never our own to begin with.  The mood adjusts to the highs, and then again, of course, to the lows…

When we curse and scream, (awake), riddled by sweat created in dream…

Basking in the afterglow, of some impossible moon, is it any wonder why we question each and every rule, all in order to find the answer to the reasoning to why nothing has yet to donate to us a shine of any kind.

It’s the brightest part of growing, trying to locate those beams of gold.

Are we all slated into each our own positions? We are taught to believe, to strive and aim.  We are told that we can be and do whatever it is we want or need, yet, why then do we settle for what little it is that we do…and why do many simply concede without questioning, giving away every desire, forfeiting all the answers to all those questions we never did think to pose…

Why then, I would really like to know?

Is there even a case to be made…. should we even create goals and believe that we can achieve what the heart’s mind pines to grow?

Or are we but pawns and kings of a different sport…where in this game, we exist entirely on our own. A contest without referees, where the rules are made up on the fly, ones that must be obeyed to a set of guidelines that seem to do nothing but only ever change before we even get a chance to learn the ones that have since grown passé?

And, is it just me, feeling like I’m the only one to recognize this anarchistic state?  Is it in my mind alone, believing that what is supposed to be fun, is anything but?  Do others begin to find that even pretending weighs one’s person down eventually?  Again, I’d really like to know.
Is this all there is?
Could it be?
Is this…is it, as it appears to be?
Have we all truly been played for patsies, even when the playing field is squarely cemented in between the most precious parts of our individualistic minds?
Is it true, have we all been masterfully deceived?
And can it be possible, that we’re the ones that invited these devious opponents into our lives? 
And did we really do so, with a handshake and a smile?
Oh, wouldn’t that just be sublime?

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