patterns

it all begins to work out quite nicely. all of those neat little patterns, everywhere you look.

the patterns of the wood grain. the lines in the carpet. the leftover raindrops racing to the bottom of the window pane. the brush strokes in that wall painting. neat little patterns.

...

with all of these things falling into place, one should be happy. happiness: a state of Mind--no, a state of Soul. take a man, and place him in one of those mansions that you dream of having, before you realize what Life is--then give him a feast. you've got to give the man transportation, so throw in a Lexus SC 430, just for kicks. give him these things, then ask him what he wants. a flat-screen plasma television? alright. granted--what else? and keep asking..a new rug for the forayer, a dark one... with those little checkered patterns in it. neat little patterns. keep asking.
then ask yourself.
then ask me.


patterns


and until someone asks for Peace, and only Peace, none of us are being forthright with ourselves. i hear Them all say how little They need for true happiness. i hear myself run the same scripted lines. how is it, then, that we all want so much more? why aren't we looking for the Peace itself? ..hold that. watch for it--it'll come. i have to believe in tomorrow's Peace. one way or another. for one of us, at least. when people run in circles it's a very very mad world.

circles. run. neat little patterns.

what exactly do these patterns do for you? give you blinders, tunnel-vision, a one-track mind. why the patterns? sure...it falls nicely into place. somehow--i'm still not content. when the pieces fall so neatly, there must be a bit out of place. a piece wrongly placed in its puzzle. or just the wrong puzzle altogether.



just hold on to that image.