Progression, Day X

I cannot agree that I am making progress.

As surely as one step will follow another, destination is key in light of expenses.

And know that I mean that I love to adventure. I love to travel this way and that. Love to bounce around and seek out those moments when my music can be willed (gently beckoned) to come alive.

But where is the market for that sort of thing?

GHow may there be one?

In a world where ingenuity is key to the fulfillment of the general hunger. In a society where factors from within do not factor without. In an age where technology soaks up the praise that the artist desires to breathe.

What has become of reality? For as reality beckons, who calls?

And who must answer?

Who...may...answer?

*

So I find myself at odds with it all, fit only to apply to menial work that, itself, is a chore to attain. Automation screens my words. Automation screens my calls. Automation screens my soul. As automation knows not what it does.

The lack of justice in the world reaches farther than true crime shows could attest. Injustice rains like the apparent forever chemicals that polluted our skies. It eases its way into every moment of trying desperation, and clambering for shore. It is the only sound that is heard as prudent ears hunt for Nature's song.

Granted, it arises too in the desperation we glean from our circumstances. It resonates in our very cells. It remains not dormant, but ready. With parasitical cling it leaps amongst us, and ravishes what it can.

*

But all is not lost, as is surely known. For in lack we find much more than gained prior.

In lack is a renumeration unseen and unbounded. In lack is the opportunity to advance at a standstill; to reach back to move forward; to build that which is not, in using that which once was...and yet, that which is not.

In lack remains the seeds of progression. In lack portends the decimation of itself. In lack exists possibilities for all.

Simply put: it is the foundation where miracles may be planted.

*

What is the ratio of wealth and sacrifice?

What is the bargain betwixt breadth and density?

Whence does the amicable take by storm? Where does the fork of integrity lie?

These are only ideas, after all. Things that may be pure and relevant, and may not be so.

But it is from my searching brain that they have arisen, and through my formless imagination that they have contested.

They have come from that which lies within all of us, and that which constitutes all that we are upon this earthly plane. The root of our conjectures, and the brilliance of our dualities in comprehension. The hallowed, perhaps, conglomerations of time unknown, and the baseline for all that we strive to be--here, in this place. And yet, our bodies are firmly bound to take up the reins of the one and the all. Our bodies are sent slavish upon the fronts of the corner-less globe. Our visage is judged for all that it seeks, and all that it knows, and all that it is want to know.

*

Granted, the format of this article has veered choppily to me at times. Still, I am content in knowing that my delivery may not always have been tethered to the given potentials of "beauty" of these pieces overall.

But flow has rung true time and again as I have gone, and I welcome you to test these waters for yourself. I look forward to hearing what you may have to share on the subject(s), and how you might phrase things in your own unique way.

Talk Soon.

\m/. The Z-Man .\m/