I have nothing worthwhile to type or say. No subject in mind. No pre-packaged idea. No dream to relay. No. . . destination. I am adrift in a boat with no row in the primordial sea of thought. My fingers move of their own volition. Only spirit and mind dance now. I willingly submit.
When I close my eyes, I am naked unto myself. Formless. Nameless. I am not Pam's daughter, Kim, Zeni's mama, or any of my aliases. I am timeless. Genderless. An oddity enveloped by the surrounding darkness. No one special. Nothing more than a fetus cushioned by abysmal waters; oblivious to the chaos that prevails outside its own.
Space is the womb. But whose? Am I a merely a planet, and how does one become the Sun? Better yet, how did I birthed one?
Why do computer chips resemble aerial views of cities? Was that intentional?
Could I be the proverbial insect in a divine ant farm, overseen by gods or aliens alike who observe our lives for either entertainment or self-comprehension? Who are the producers and creators of Earth: The Reality Show? How are the ratings? Who's the star?
Perhaps I'm the distant ancestor of an atom (adam) that loaned its riboflavin (rib) to catalyze evolution (eve). My questions are often pebble tosses into a lake that ripples on and on and on and on and...on...in endless continuum. Too cerebral, by far.
Still, today I am humble. I hope to remain so in the tomorrows that follow.
Today I am as curious as I was yesterday. Curiosity killed the cat. But I am not one in this lifetime. I walk upright in this incarnation.
Today. . . in this moment. . . I am whole. One. Connected. Attuned. Picking up signals in all directions. At peace with all that I assume I am, and all that I proclaim I am not.
Yes, sailing in a sea of constant becoming.
If you're coming. . . well. . . open your eyes.
- kj
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