(
Not )
For me, there is always another level
of consideration that lurks and then imposes or interjects and becomes the
center of attention. Strong character,
or just the DNA and genes of dominance, and I would ask. “Is there such a thing as the perfect
original design, and from that all blessings flow?” And this rudely jerks me back in line, bumps
me around some, and roughs me up, reminding me in the sternest of ways, to keep
the Party Line. You started with ( Not )
and even as it is an unusual constriction of grammar and format, it was
accepted.
Now you are tinkering around with
it, and are trying to make it more and perhaps something it was never intended
to be. And then it comes. Oden or
some thunder god from another era and time, “Not In A Thousand Years
will you find a replacement for the perfect idea, not yet found.” So just let it be, and in time we will accept
all things as the march of progress and
refinement of mind and society and life.
“In a Thousand Years.” And this
has me thinking, why did we settle on this timeline. “Can’t this be done faster? More efficiently. And cheaper? “
So
level one in America is all business.
How can I improve on the bottom-line and make some money?
Level
two and there is more to life than just money.
Borders on the whimsical and will interject this for starters. Something to do with upsetting corporate life
and business in government, and demise of the working man, and eliminating a
need for a more perfect way. Just
say. “In a thousand years.” Or
make it all coded into the conversation and work-around-things by not
saying it at all, but its there. ( NOT
). And then we can drop down to Level 3
and lower.
Level
Three and below that: The Devil’s
Playground. Here lies my true
thoughts. Battleships. Raincoats.
And the basic fear of doing nothing.
Naught. Not. Knot.
Has me going in all directions at the same time. In a blog.
Losing it. Losing my mind. Ends up humming and thinking about a guitar
and its acoustical body. Floating world
significance, and won’t harp and won’t guitar for very long. Women are marching on Washington D.C. on
January 21st, 2017 and seem to be saying. “Not Right.”
But I wasn’t there, and am a devoted skeptic.
Not. Naught.
Knot. Battleships.
Raincoats. Honey Bear and Guitars
playing for me. Not sure what it is I think
we should be saying. “Not In A Thousand
Years.” Will we improve on this. Its
perfect. But of course, the women are
saying something different. They always
do. Giver of Life. Teacher.
Social Organizer. And this has me
thinking, should I just go back to doing
the things that come naturally to me.
Like smoking. Like the smoking
gun. Like writing about it and saying, Winnie The Pooh was right. “Its all for naught.” A thousand years you do not have. “Smoke this.
Live for now.” “Let’s March.”
Whimsical:
en.wikiquote.org/wiki/Winnie_the_Pooh_(film)
[Pooh, Rabbit,
Owl, Eeyore, Kanga and Roo are trapped in a hole and Piglet gets a rope - only
to cut it up into six pieces]
Piglet: And six! There! Now we can ALL get out!
Pooh: How very thoughtful you are, Piglet.
Rabbit: [loses patience] Good grief! Tie them
together, Piglet! Can you tie a knot?
Piglet: I cannot.
Rabbit: Ah, so you CAN knot.
Piglet: No. I cannot knot.
Rabbit: [in disbelief] Not knot?
Pooh: Who's there?
Rabbit: Pooh!
Pooh: Pooh who?
Rabbit: No! Pooh... eh... Piglet, you'll need more than
two knots.
Piglet: Not possible.
Owl: Ah, so it IS possible to knot those pieces.
Piglet: Not these pieces!
Pooh: Yes. Knot those pieces.
Piglet: Why not?
Eeyore: 'Cause it's all for naught.
Now I jump to the subject of A Thousand Years. Starts with a song. Lyrics.
Christina Perri - A Thousand Years [Official Music Video] - YouTube
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rtOvBOTyX00
Lyrics: I have died everyday, waiting for
you / Darling, don't be afraid, I have loved you for a thousand years / I'll
love you for a thousand more
And then move on to something that
is just on my mind these days. ( Not
) In A Thousand Years.
Not sure what level we will stabilize
at, after he goes on and on about love and business and the perfect design for
a battleship or a raincoat or a life crafted on the illusion that it is soundly
justified and is stable, when indeed we will find out: It Is Temporary. This is the perfect design. There exist something better. This won’t last. Won’t last forever. And the money you make off the existence of
other people, be all for naught, you can’t take it with you. And he says with a smile and simple understanding. “Perfect.”
Thanks. It's obvious the thousand years. But the music got me dancing. There's enough to be done this evening. Thanks for another day.
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