From our perspective, our position in the space/time continuum: they are solid, formidable, unbreakable, and constant. When we zoom out our perspective and see them for what they are — an integral part of Earth’s life cycle — then we understand their character as they relate to their environment and not as they relate only to our short lifespans. They are young, restless, rapidly evolving, fickle, at times destruction but yet fostering life, and dangerous creatures.
This paradox, this perceived paradox, is what makes them beautiful. This is why I find mountains undeniable. Lost in a beautiful paradox is where love is found. They are the most symiotic and lasting relationships. I need my paradoxes and they me. Give me a paradox and I’ll give you love, loyalty, and an endless dance between two powerful forces. I’ll be your paradox. I’ll be your Muse and you mine.
Peanut Butter Lover. I am that and that is me. Of the few labels I can more than confidently attach to myself and proudly declare; this is one.
Cheese. I love cheese.
I love the two so much for a few years in my childhood I would regularly make peanut butter and cheddar cheese sandwiches. It’s still not a bad sandwich. Of course, some restaurants have mastered it.
USA — here I was born, mostly raised and culturally assimilated. Perhaps my father being from an epicenter of peanuts (Idaho) has some to do with my love of peanut butter. Home of CHEETOS Germany—here I live. Here is the homeland of my mother and now my home. Cheese lovers. Ignorant to the beauty and diversity of peanut butter. Home of FLIPS
Here is a declaration for the absorption of a damn damn good idea seen in Germany → Hey, America, where the hell are the Flips?! Hey Germany, let your people eat the Cheetos!
Americans. Love peanut butter. At times I have the PB-Blasphemous thought, “Maybe, jussst maybe we have gone over the Peanut Butter top”. Then I laugh maniacally and remind myself the more peanut butter one consumes the better their evolutionary advantage. It’s like consuming the raw power of legendary mythical folk, e.g. Chuck Norris. Point is…
Why, as the most peanut butter consuming area of the world, do we not have peanut type like Cheetos things in the USA? Or, do we and I’m just missing it? Flips are a Peanut Butter lovers culinary mouth orgasm. Even peanut butter recreational users seem to like them (e.g. Germans).
And WHY, does such a cheese loving people not have Cheetos?! Cheetos are the thing that I am requested most to bring back from the USA trip. They love them. People find ways to get some from the military commisary in Germany. It’s a Cheetos black market! In a few days I’m practically a Cheetos smuggler taking back multiple party and regular Cheetos bags on the plane.
So, let’s rebuild the alliance with Germany that the NSA so graciously eroded.
USA, “We want your flips!”
Germany, “We’ll take those Cheetos!”
And here begins a new golden economic age and unprecedented world peace as the whole world harmoniously participates in the glory and brilliance of a Cheetos-like-snack and a Flips-like-snack. Available for all the world to enjoy in good company while giggling and joking together in harmony until the inevitable quietly content most delicious munchie session ensues. Or we could eat Peanut Butter filled pretzels.
Hey Cheetos and Flips, you’re welcome for the free pitch so I’ll now take a job as your master taste-tester. I’m not kidding.
It simply
was a depressing time. He simply was a pathetic human being. The
self-realization was compact, direct and… simple. It was as if he
himself brought to his presence a wonderful and tightly wrapped package.
So in his own reality he created a scenario:
The
contents were singular. In the package was a Yak Bak. This antiquated
ancient artifact added a retrospective element to his experience. He
knew what it was. It was an emblem of innocence. It was one tightly
wound and deep reaching symbol but the referent was not easily defined.
This
creature, being graced with an infinite capability for inner-reality
scenario creation did not take long to arrange the scenario in which
this Yak Bak was created and for what it was destined.
[[[
A moment to explain the importance of ‘inner-reality scenario creation’
(termed as such for lack of better symbols). As a pathetic human being
that spends the majority of time drawn inward and in solitary presence
it is quite difficult to be convinced by outward sources and inward
reflection that the scenarios created in the mind are less of a reality
than that which is experienced in the physical realm in which we all
assume we participate. One self-aware that they are subject to such a
tendency must consciously convince and remind oneself that a scenario
(complete with actors from their physical reality, actions, idea
exchanges, dialogue, etc.) created in their mind was nothing more than
an scenario experienced in their inner reality. They must remind
themselves that the actors in their inner reality that match actors in
the physical reality in appearance and name are not necessarily
co-dependent. One cannot hold resentment for a peer in the physical
reality for the actions they performed in the inner reality. For some a
meditative and conscious practice is needed to harness and control this.
Some have no control. Some are not aware. Some do not care. Many do not
compartmentalize and all realities blur into one mesh. We will not
speak to the ethics, what should or shouldn’t be, nor of the
consequences… it is how it occurs. ]]]
Knowing the Yak
Bak’s origins he was hesitant to push the ‘play’ button being fearful
of what he himself had recorded for he himself to hear. He knew the
actors in all realities represented one referent that shared all the
same information. But lost in his own network he could not seem to find
the memory among his countless libraries. He could not find the memory, a
caveat, to prepare himself for a more than likely epiphany. Perhaps
this is more than likely as he programmed it. Planned it. Formed and
molded what was to be.
He feared epiphanies. He feared
the existence outside of time. He feared the moment that could not
exactly be defined as a moment. Better said, it was an idea without
form. He feared the form he must place following the epiphany. As with
any great ‘ah-hah!’ there came the come down in which confrontation of
the self and others were necessary. There came the pain of growing and
changing. The pain of adapting. The unraveling of what the idea meant
and was meant to be; how it played out in his realities. Fear, pain,
unknowns… “Better it be me,” he thought, “for I am truly addicted to
functioning outside of my first reality.” Addicted to fear, or rather,
the beautiful consequences of confronting a fear, he finally pushed
‘play’.
He heard a voice of a child. He knew it to be he.
….
“You are to enter a great War. There will be a tearing of realities and
the soldiers of the future will not firing weapons but typing. Ideas
will be your weapons and practice in alternative realities. Be
comfortable being adaptive and perform actions mentally, digitally and
physically. Last of all, stop being a pathetic human being” ….
He
had closed his eyes as he listened and was willingly, dutifully and
intentionally existing in the margins of realities. Time became an
elementary concept. He was again wandering in an epiphany. At once, from
his center, simultaneously gazing and studying every reality. With
every perspective he took in the details while keeping the forest for
the trees. Then the rush of epiphany awakened every component and he was
ready.
It had been too long since he was not the
pathetic human being. It had been too long that he allowed the actions
of others in a single physical reality rule and victimize his story.
Ready he was and ready he is to jump in as a cog in a machine, a
universe among universes ready to function as one complete being and fix
these ruptures and cancer in our realities.
gathered, clumped, and lumped → the lot of all that has
clogged me ← and purged it thenceforth.
— then below I could tread
where-from I observe the whole
(known Universe)
and clearly see the mycelia networks …
— now I can connect the structures
of me, by me, about me, with me, from me, to me, not me,
micro to macro
the referent remains the same
being that → buried beneath the many constructions we are apt to find each other intertwined only with deep matter. All from everywhere all in somewhere all … all.
Germany—here I live. Here is the homeland of my mother and now my home. Cheese lovers. Ignorant to the beauty and diversity of peanut butter. Home of FLIPS
Here is a declaration for the absorption of a damn damn good idea seen in Germany → Hey, America, where the hell are the Flips?! Hey Germany, let your people eat the Cheetos!
