What’s to come of it?

The single-threaded reality has been busily stitching its way throughout the imaginary fabric creating the patterns of life lived and closing up the gaps at the ends.  Not all things come to a finish, but all things must end.  What, in this story, is to keep?  That is a question that resolves in only one way for the physical.  Nothing here is ours to own.  Spiritual?  That’s to come.  That’s to know more deeply after the laying down of the fabric upon the rusting bones of self.  Anyhow, the journey of a life in a boat upon the sea of everything else is not yet complete in its mission, but it is complete in its writing and it has been made into the light that we call data.  What good fortune it is that I’ve somehow arrived here?  The series has seven albums to it’s calling: Stone-walled heart, Flow, I Don’t Want to Come Down, The Divorce Album: Monsters In Us All, Static Man and the Prophets Disease, Hippo + Crate and the Fear Machine, The Adelphos: Fire and Rust, and with lyrical tosses back to my first two albums that are unnamed here.  There is a lot of music detailing the journey, and my next internal seed planting is to write a semi-fictional book furthering the lessons learned on the journey.  These last two albums, the double release, will be available through my webpage as a pay what you can.

Fire and Rust. FaR.

Hippo + Crate = The Fear Machine / The Adelphi and the Fire: Let My Bones Rust.  FaR.  The conclusion to the concept albums approaches with this double album release.  Like a flicking light, the dark and the light war within the proximity of a human glass bulb.  One man set to shine – one man’s soul set to rust.  With fire and rust, a boat upon the sea of everything else concludes and the story ends and the new one begins.  Dry land is a strange place to the legs of the boat after all.  Steady and unyielding, a person must learn to give differently to the advancement of the self in this place.  Anyhow, here we go now.

The Dark Cycle

No matter the charging force of the spirit or of the mind, The Great Let Down begins and the Dark Cycle is entered without flaw, and without failure in its consistent and certain way it comes and goes.  As the years begin to pile into heaps of years, so has the number of times an attempt has been made to discredit and disarm the victors of the Dark Cycle also been heaped.  But, what is this Great and seemingly horrible sphere or lumping of a certain measure of time giving purpose to or for?…[TAK] It can be difficult to witness the purpose of an apparent enemy from their/its perspective when there is a great effort to fight them/it.  There is a lot of fighting these days in and out of the self.

 

The Spin

Upon the needles of life I stitch my story into the fabric of the infinite.  Understanding Master of Self has been churning heavy in the foundry of my being.  What does it mean?  How do I maintain consciousness for such a thing?  It’s so easy to roll upon the sword of blame.  I hear it everywhere.  I see it and I feel it and my stomach begins to ache.  Look at the self and begin to peel back the relevance of truth and by no small measure begin there to dismantle the framework of the Static Self.  To encourage mastery without discipline is only to entertain mastery.  I can reason now an understanding for poison and how it is swift to corrupt, but it is without it’s own understanding.  It is not a thing that means to corrupt neither does it mean to be anything other than what it is inherently.

My mind is rooting into the heavy studies for which I have enlisted myself in this life.  After great work through the fog of learning the clarity comes in slow but sure measure.  Let me go now, then.  Let these bones rust and let my soul rust, too.  The long walk calls my name.

The Short Run

Just as quickly as can be done, the time for my Short Run tour with Maddie Alpert has approached to within an inch of a moment away.  As for the rest, the time invested in practice will undoubtedly become aware.  There is, however, something special that occurs when we play consecutive shows and encounter the platform of our efforts.  Often, we rise above what our understanding is for how far we’ve come, and how far we’ve made it becomes a new mystery of achievement.  That relentless wave of ever increasing authority over the perspective of the time that is passing and the undeniable end that is surely coming for us all suggests we need to begin at once to become who we wish to be.  It is not for another to be our master, but for us to master ourselves.  Measure well against your time, then, and be at each closing closer in measurement.  Not for the attainment of material, but of the self.  Nothing [material], here, is the only thing you own, anyhow. The purpose of the material is to seek it for a cause with a material-less purpose.  To become a builder, you must acquire tools and a knowledge to utilize these tools, but the mind of the creation is free to pull from the space of your imagination.  We [you and I and the majority] are further away from purposeful attainment and as a result, the quicksand approach to acquisition is engaged for no other purpose than to occupy the dwelling of within.  Dig holes – fill holes – dig holes to fill other holes.  Charge, then, ourselves with the duty of goodly and deep purpose for the engagement with the journey still to come.

Memory

It is that it came to pass.  One year is nothing in terms of long time, but it is something in terms of spacial clustering of thoughts and memories.  I was on the stage for Black Box understanding ever more the corrupt details that the ‘passage of time’ exhibits on our streams of reality, and my thinking was a simply following:  It was that what my experience was was a memory.  Something I was re-living for the first time again.  Ha!  I love the way words can work meanings of multiple texture.  Anyhow, it came and went as it has become expected that such an event would come and go.

Here now as the Earth begins to rust – I begin to trust that there are no directions taken that lead out of here.

Here now as the paths I could have taken are tree strewn and boulder toppled – I grow fond of the certainty of the circle.

Here now I am grateful for the humility which has bore deeply inward and painfully so – and I’m happy to have had my mind forged as it has been for I am happier still with who I am becoming.

I am only a memory of myself and any person I will become will only become the same person as was that coming before himself.