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I wrote this in a moment of travel last week. Hope you enjoy.

You look like a goat tied up to a tree. You don’t know any context, don’t know what you mean and don’t know where you’ll go. All you know is that you’re stuck in this moment.

The current is but an amalgamation of the past into one; each day is both a gift of persistence, and a presence of life as we know it. Each time we forget that there was something there before, we get swept away. Building on top of a ravine, though, means destruction after each and every hurricane. Forgetting how to be reverent to this yesterday means certain death. Another façade can be built atop the plaza, another stone structure can be put in place of the ruins.

And, though, it seems we reset every so often. By destroying the past we seem to replace and substitute our immediate time’s past with that of the older yesteryear. There is nothing historical, it is all rhetorical and all pseudo-truth. Nothing is exact, and the precision is but relative to the means of our tools to decipher meaning. The way we measure, record and display are individually flawed. Reproduction is spotty. The tone we speak in is half. Our goals are more than we can speak; our vision is beyond the foreseeable spectrum. 

What do we do, then? We fight like dogs, then take these shattered pieces and hope we can rebuild. Future is nothing but a collapsed series of hopes, promises and dreams. Our only goals that work are the ones that are within means. And isn’t that a mean way to tell us that the universe is much greater than one being?