should i write? each time i wonder. to leave something permanent. like etching my name in semidried concrete. will there be someone to come along and read it? my musings on today. a mans quest to find meaning in his life, in the world that spins by. nothing too heavy here, i leave out my brushes with death, my secrets or anything too personal that might keep a reader coming back. instead over and over a repetition in the quest to find balance. observations of simple things that seem so obvious at first but i think escapes most of us.
like how we go about our day to day. spending most of our time involved in the endless search, racking up points that we store in banks and place on bets. investments that at times perhaps allow us to hypothetically pat ourselves on the back. rarely contemplating the meaning or point of it all. we wake up and repeat the moments that fed us yesterday. a rhythm forms, or does not, either way we keep at it. pushing people and problems and solutions together in a never ending symphony that only us and a few others might be listening. in the well we croak loudly, competing with the other frogs that we see, the ones that look like us and are competing for our own source of energy. money. energy. we compete with only those frogs that are like us going for our energy. they are the frogs that matter.
we then exchange them for things at the store. for a bigger house a car or something we can wear on our fingers. we go back to the office, move the papers around the desk, put our feet up, wait for fish or have others help us fish. many people no longer fish but sometimes simply introduce the fish to other fish collectors. they try to work in tandem, a line where each person is scratching the others back, like a trail of ants, working together but to the ant, seemingly independent. inching forward, each day collecting things and making our corners of the nest better, no idea how or where or why but simply a mechanical repetition to keep doing it. to keep writing, working, waking and repeating. in the same order. rinse, wash and repeat, and to not let the frogs that look like us and croak like us get any further in the race to the end of the circle.
Ken Aaron
January 22, 2021 4:41 am
As cynical as I try to be I must say this is a good entry. smooth flowing prose with enough wit and challenge to keep the reader alert. And the observation, though incomplete, seems correct, just shy of being condemning of all of us who just trudge through life without high motivation, like goldfish in a pond, eat, swim, poop, procreate, maybe try to look pretty.
(Listened to this using Balabolka.exe)
Brent Beisher
January 22, 2021 1:03 pm
thank you ken. if only letters back and forth that leave a physical stamp to our communications then it would be enough.
The Elder
February 18, 2021 6:11 am
I am a frog