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Matters of Exigency
The ability to think freely without risk of repercussion for creating and dreaming is what makes the person themself.
Think of the child … they know no limits, no bounds, no fear, until we make them become molds of the ideals we allow them to be exposed to. Why reach for the moon? So you can land amongst stars, at the least. Why wear knee
pads when skateboarding? So your knee doesn’t shatter when you crash into the paved concrete. Why squish, trap and run from spiders? Because they’re scary. The rushed conclusions debating the future do nothing but stifle the present.
Every rhyme has its reason, it just depends on the season and where your soul is thrown. It can be the middle of Oklahoma in the basement of a stranger because tornadoes are ripping over your head, it can be in the jungle of Cambodia because that’s where you’re most free or it can be in the white walled spaceship of a room between the valley. Destination may be the result, but what matters is the journey one takes to reach there. Something I just can’t grasp though is how does one achieve such an aura about themself that they no longer have to open a door for themself?
Better yet, why would you want to open a door if you don’t have to? I’ll tell you why:
Matters of exigency.
Without that burning seek in your head, who gives a flying shit if you open a door for yourself? My kid just got called a genderless dike at school because she had short hair. His uncle just died from an infection he contracted after having a polyp removed from his colon. Their calf just died giving birth and now they’re gonna be a few steaks left hungry this year. He just walked into the door because the unfrosted glass was placed horizontally perfectly to a degree that the other was perpendicular with the sky.
Uh-oh: The bombs just hit … I never thought this day would actually arrive; the clouds are running so fast they’re gonna cut through that building and -
When the Bear is running you down from behind, at full speed, and your legs catch a stone half-way out of the ground, what would be the last thoughts you experience before being mangled and eaten alive?
I’d tell you mine, but then I’d have to think of another one.
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