Modern life insists we are solitary specimens - mere byproducts of random chance in the all-inclusive Goldilocks paradigm. We serve our time, sentenced here after 3.7 billion years of un-spiralling DNA. Love lurks as a complex mechanism of pheromones, subliminal signals & triggered orifice immersions. Our brains are complex wetware computers that create a facsimile of self as a biological safety trick to avoid the ubiquitous sabre tooth tigers & spitting cobras. Ever the doubting Thomas, I went along with this sincere puffery for too many years. One night in my solitary confinement I became aware of a presence I could not deny. Not dreamed, Not hallucinated. Not imagined. In attendance. At all times. A fissure of light cracked the shell of my arrogance & all my former truths became relative. Insufficient. As if a match head were struck on the rough surface of the wall of a jet black cave.
No comments:
Post a Comment