NaPoWriMo 1/30 Change Comes Despite Our Best Efforts To Stay The Same

A world on the cusp of fundamental transformation and most people have abandoned their worldly stations, given up caring about things beyond their dreams, given up sharing about goals beyond their individuated souls. I mean, we still go to work, play adult games in the dark, relax in the parks and try to maintain the facade of normalcy, at least.

But it’s a beast to pretend, wending our way through the moments of our days wondering when the end might come, when our sins might trend, our entire lives on blast like Will and Jada’s past.

What are you afraid of? Why do you continue to act like everything’s the same, when the world is going to hell in our name? Why do we sit back and vacillate between doing nothing and talking shit, when taking action is the only way to get beyond it all, beyond some fall, beyond some call to be other than we are, like falling stars seeking counseling about their failure to soar, to stay aloft and fly high, boring creation with the decision to go to ground. It sounds like free spirits, imparting their essential material to another celestial body’s ephemeral corpus by morphing into earth, just another terrestrial body added to the mix, organic and mineral beingness fixed from then until the end of time.

Mind struggles to stay focused, the days pass like moments fleeting, each week disappearing into the last, our feet working the pedals, giving gas to the past which recedes further and further away each day until we find ourselves bereft of contextual meaning, seeking a stability that has always been fleeting.

So we do what we do, proving the truism true that change only comes when people have had enough. When things get really tough and the daily grind slams to a halt because the gestalt has shifted out. Doubt coalesces into certainty and those bouts of whimsy flout the expected and, just like that, sans invectives or prospective orthodoxy, a New World arrives by proxy of higher self imperative.

And so the narrative changes, whilst on the shores of the unknown lie the bones of ancient gods encased in stone, heralding change as the only thing that’s truly grown beyond our ability to comprehend. Fear has no place here, portending the end of disgrace. There’s no place for hate, good and evil dissipate and everyone’s late, the Mad Hatter’s plates go flying as we all decide against dying and choose to do it all again, no matter what the stars, heaven and goddesses portend.

Mârk Ânthðny Rðckëymððrë

Polymath. Life. Former San Marcos City Council member. Autodidact. English Teacher. Numinologist. Father. Mystic.