[Rainbowfox Ari]

So.... here's a place for my writing. XD

Comments are welcome, critiques aren't - don't ask why, I don't really know why I get so defensive about my work that really isn't that good. Just some things that I have thought of.

Granted, most of my work is in contemplative prose.

But have a read, and poke me with a comment now and again, and I'll be happy.~

[Rainbowfox Ari]

Thinking about the things that come out of my mouth,
Like starlights filtering through the boughs of big old oak trees,
A grandfatherly sort of warning to not indulge in insults and backbiting - nor to condone them,

I am but a myriad of thoughts and visions, sequestered in a dark alley in the back of a box,
Where the only light streams through a tiny crack in the cardboard, where someone forgot to apply the duct tape,

A moving scene, but a screaming mouth in the face of all that I know and cherish,
For what do we become when our thoughts hit the brick wall at the end of an idea?
Is it for us that the thoughts are racing here and there, or do they take on a life of their own?

Never knowing where the beginning of the road is, yet we slide around on it like we know where we're going,
Some feel that there is no road - that this emptiness inside us is the only path to follow,
But who really has the time to think of things?

Who really knows the answers that we all claim to know?
How are you?
You can't really answer that, because there is no legitimate answer.

All questions are changing and burning holes in our pockets like money we forgot to take out when we did the laundry,
Do we spend that extra change, or do we hide it and miser it away where no one can see it - deep in our hearts of secret hearts - deep where the waters don't touch?

Is there really an answer to that question that doesn't require minor brain-surgery, or at least a scalpel to the mind?
Do you think we were put here to question, to answer, or to revolve around ourselves, like so many seem to be doing?

The other day, I saw a squirrel. It has no answers for why life is life, why death is death, or even why the sun rotates around the planet?
It knows light good, dark bad, nuts are plentiful if you know where to look for them, and sharp teeth are to be avoided.

Is that how we should travel through this slip-and-slide - on a meaningless spiral of questions with no answers, and answers that don't make sense?

If you talk to someone, that doesn't make you a scholar. Never even in a million years will all the stars be named, and not a single cell of the human brain has been fully analyzed.

We are woefully unprepared to accept our own destinies - and what little there was that would become of us - has suddenly changed and shifted to that which we don't know,

Where is the simplicity that used to make life so much more worth living?

Too much stuff, too much to do, too much to worry about - and we all end up caught by the mid-morning blues at some point - napping our lives away on a couch in someone's basement.
Even if just metaphorically.

So what can we do about that which has come to pass - that which we cannot change, because we already changed it?
Global shifts, ice melting, rising heat, and dropping cold - it's all us. There's no cosmic plan for self-destruction.

We handled that all on our own, seeking questions for our answers, and getting more and more confused along the way.

Perhaps it's time to step back and let the answers fly on home - forget we ever had questions, and do things the way that we feel they should be done.

People in power never get the obvious - they never realize that by trying to make things better through methods they don't understand, they're only making things worse - It's enough to make a saint go seeking sake in Japan.

But what's the point of all the rigmarole when the simplest solution is to let us make our own - to get rid of the answers they have given us, and walk alone, hand-in-hand, into the coming maelstrom and emerge victorious on the other side.

We have lived for billions of years in one form or another. Evolution changes the shape, but not the will.

We will survive. We've done it before. Without brains. Without minds. Without legs. Without bodies.

We will survive, because we have to. We may not be the only ones out there, but we're definites. We're always. We won't fade, we won't die, even if trumpets crush our heads.

Because throughout it all, we have always looked into the eyes of those above us and played the belligerent teens, eye-rolling and walking on off - BECAUSE WE CAN.

And that's probably why we're still here. Without answers that make sense, without questions that have answers, without minds or souls, or bodies it would be the same.

We're still here.

That's the only things that matters.

[Suzerain of Sheol]

Very interesting, Arri. Almost a prose-poem, no? I'm getting a very strong existentialist vibe from it, and you touch on some very relevant concepts both philosophically and psychologically.

In short, I like it. :)