searching….electra

 

Stepping back as the projectors eye 

I have thought over and over again lately why; what is this I so madly work at; like some marble sculpture that I never stop refining as it grows like vines new insights and it often feels like I am this student letting my story guide me as they come to me through those strange currencies ….does this babble help me figure it all out? I don’t think it was ever a choice to be this dharma philosopher caught up in this saga 

it just keeps ….evolving, going, and this won’t let me go, and look at me and the lengths it’s physically driven me to…. and all for…..this need to …. 

and just searching —in search of answers to the meaning of life, invested years of my life searching, writing, researching and ….still I want to know more —when I’m ‘supposed’ to be slowing down—as if? but I can’t —why does it chase me to keep at it, it is so a part of me I wonder…. and of which I am so entangled in. and maybe it is just that. (the lost Celf in search of the meaning of ‘Self’?)

 it is me and I am it and without it. I never was ….but no—it never really was about me, not as the body of its meaning, just the apparatus to perform this mad life I live ….it was always about ….meaning ….but no, it is even more than this too because it chases me, like I am its slave to ….create this or —no, it feels it is more I am merely its messenger and so what then is the message? humanity ….oh—so would you say it’s the eleventh hour? like I have any voice to speak (talk about voice, mermaid ….) and did our Greek masters think they needed to voice ….? (but I’m nobody, a mute mermaid) (shut tf up, do I care what anyone thinks anymore knowing the stupid things they think about?)(Don’t judge,bitch)

—should I question why? yes—because if I expect to sell it it requires me to question but to sell it requires to forget why and sell it to the lowest common denominator. should I judge? well, the Vikings would not require me to whore —why question why ….because I’m like some mad scientist riding a blind horse at full speed with no reigns I sometimes think—and purely because it feels “it must be”