A Collection of Random Insights

Ah life, you amaze me with your constant ups and downs and paths circling in and out of the darkness of the woods, the shadows then the light, never ceases to be one or the other. A perfected dance of stars clashing on the water below.

As I reflect on my ever searching journey towards happiness and a certain control over my mind, my emotions, my eyes and there reflections upon the situations and the happenings which occur through the day, through my dreams, in the sleeping soundly places of my bed as I lay down.

I realize.

Perhaps, I will never have control, fully over this life. Or any for that matter. And although I’ll continue to gain ever increasing sums of insight and joy and moments of stillness that forces me back in my seat as if melting.

When suddenly all is so calm, I feel as though I’m aware of the very blood running constantly through my veins, it’s wrapping twisting relationship with the oxygen I breath in under this green and brown tree so big, brave and silently behaved. So much more in sync with the universe than I’ll ever dare to say.

I’ll never, nor should I want, to gain control over my life. Yes I am in control. But I am not. Who am I in the first place? Not I, that is certain.




Peace is of the same essence as a flower. Just as a flower is so delicate and soft and fuzzy to the touch. So is this peace we seek, we need, we leak from our mouths as in the same way saliva collects upon viewing an ice cream cone or chocolate cake.

It’s there. Though it’s delicacy is haunting. In a flash, a quick moment, our shadow we often reject puffs a cloud of smoke towards the flower and as beautiful as it is to look upon it is just as stunning to watch as its peddles float away.

Grasping, grasping you try to collect even one peddle though you know the impossibility of reassembling a flower once its escaped is barrage of disappointment you hope not to remake.




I desire so much in this life. Wake up with a sense of burning in my soul, a sense of trapped anticipation. I need to run in 25,000 different directions at once in an attempt to catch, to ride, to experience the billions of ideas, concepts, abstractions which make up this unbelievably complex collective interconnected bleeding singing purposely deceiving even…human consciousness of mind.

It’s all just so perfect. The balance and imbalance of it all. The ugly, the beautiful, the true, the false, the wrong, the right, the love, the hate. This is what it all is. A tight rope walk of dichotomies, a steady evenhanded footing of opposites to choose from.

That’s why the idea that we can understand for one moment or attempt to limit the surmounting collection of interpretations and relations. Why would we want to…?




Ah, thankfulness. This is what it all comes back to. For me at least. The understanding that as long as I keep giving bundles and baskets and truck loads of gratitude and loving roles…I’ll be free.

For freedom is what we truly want. Freedom to feel, to touch, to live, to run, to be. Freedom is what we desire what fuels our fire. The burning sensation you feel when somewhere new.

Not limited by routine or schedule just you and your heart and your pinecone mind fully opened and ripe. Be thankful, that’s it. That is what you must strive towards, what it is to be human. All opens up once you gain a certain steadfastness handling of gratefulness for your tiny place in this universe.




And create. Yes, that’s important too. See you can’t really pinpoint any true understanding, perfecting rounding conceptions of typing descriptions of life, which fully encapsulates it all.

Because nothing is, anything. Bad or good. Just concepts. Floating images in our psyches passed down through the ages printed even on pages called and named archetypes to the layman’s.

Nothing is new. Everything has been done before. Even you. Therefore never hold back or allow a law of contract, copyright, and attacks from big bank brats to stop you from creating and keeping on track.

Because everything is you. All ideas all conceptions just redone with different colored bows and wrapping presentations. We are all one. You hear this most certainly and probably don’t always get it. Neither do I to be honest sure I’ve done the reading and I’ve done the contemplating. But what does it truly mean to be ‘all one?’ hard to describe but I’ll continue to try.

All is real you know. What get’s me going, what sparks me glowing. I’ll tell you once more it’s this peace I feel even attempt to hoard. Hearts glass raining like a cool summer night, as the wet clouds move slowly past, I’ll stay here on the grass and soak it up, soak up this gorgeous interpretation of life I’m trying to grasp.