Random muttering

I have a world to conquer, and I wonder if I am ready for it. A world of adventure and opportunity, a world I have only barely come to understand as of yet. There is definitely an inherent truth I believe I have come to understand. An unspoken truth about life, people, love, beauty. It is something I have always tried to put into words and fail at miserably. I think of that ethereal feeling now, a clear cloud in my mind, translucent and ever changing. It doesn't cloud my thoughts, instead it adds density to my internal analysis of human emotions and actions. It's where worlds collide and emotions jump out at you like your name in print. Chaotic, explosive, and full of a tragic yet joyful beauty. The singular act of destruction and creation at the same moment in time. Like the implosion of a star. Shafts of light radiating out in arcs throughout the vacuum of space. Beautiful and terrifying. I see the same on the backs of the koi in the pond at the teahouse. They move, undulating through the water, the light refracting in a thousand directions off of the golden scales along their backs. Beautiful as a thousand sparkling diamonds, tragic in their captivity. It's wishful to believe that they could dream of anything bigger, that they could know their world beyond the visible confines. Does that show that it is therefore in their nature to accept? Even birds, the quintessential mascot of freedom are territorial. Whether Birds of Prey, or flocking types, they still adhere to a pattern, a prescribed flight path, an instinctual/habitual journey.

Does life dictate where are footsteps fall? Are chance encounters really chance? We are utterly insignificant in a univers of an infinite number of solar systesm, yet there must be some cosmic link, and unseen bit of connective tissue that binds ut so sould similar to our own. Thus begging the question, is there a cosmic manetism? a drive, a pull, an attraction? Or are we just a bundle of bumbling atoms colliding into one another. I return to watching the koi with the eyebrows.

Times like these, I wonder for my sanity. Focus, clairty, understanding; all words I attempt to classify. To write with the meaning I intend to capture without belittling it in ducile tones. The difference between the siren adn the choir boy. In my head, the siren screams for attention.