Favorite 150

I have understanding and compassion for those who have to lable everything in dualistic terms to foster their experiece of reality. Because beneath it lies chaos and this chaos must be wrapped up in an onion of opinions that you claim as your own. When one begins to peel back the layers of words, concepts and prayers, eyes wide open, peering and peeking into the unconscious with the night eyes of an owl, the end result will always be tears - of joy or fear or sadness. These emotions are to be embraced as a small victory but instead they are avoided - with out conscious thought. This vital source of energy becomes strangled into poison and then released at random intervals at familiar targets with familiar triggers. Yes, we are all walking thru the mindfields of our brethren with our own mindfield tucked into a secret inside pocket of a suit made of skin of our own creation and those of us who examine and map the everchanging wretched sides of ourselves and our pluralized oligarchies will profit only if our timing and intentions are impeccable. The threat of being ostracized from the peloton will keep most from finding their true will. And then there are the IEDs; in this context, they are a product of the imagination but still have a material reality within the confines of our blood streams and cerebral spinal fluids. Hormones and neurotransmitters and the adrenal glands are hard to withstand when we do not seem or want to have dominion over our dominion. Instead, we walk around a soldier made up of a 1000 billion soldiers working for soldiers who do not see humans beyond their favorite 150.

I forgive you for not seeing me as human, as one within your peloton and in fact there is nothing to forgive. No one has much control over the peloton as it is a function of entrainment which is a function of neurobiology and geomantics. We all must carefully choose our television shows our countries our videos our commentators but we cannot choose our children but I think they choose us. So there is nothing to forgive but do you forgive me for choosing you? At times I begin to grasp why I did. Everyone needs a bubble to survive - except me. This I learned in my early years to hide within a peloton that could never understand why I was there and never able to look at the unacceptance the constant need for censorship. The constant projection of pop psychiatric terms bordered on the border-line. I always knew they were a protective balm for your own sense of self that can only perceive my ideas as condensation and on a deeper unexamined level a threat to your way of being. I forgive and understand and give gratitude for teaching me the importance of forgiveness and gratitude. Can you forgive me for not seeing pelotons for what they were because I am like a camel in a world where so much of the water is heavy with sedation that I pretend to drink but do not swallow. To some, this water, that I give to you now, appears to be heavy. To one or two, it is raw, unfiltered and alive. I guess it all comes down to the enzymes and flora living within your gastro-intestinal pipeline.