"But how soon? Did we ever really become accustomed to waiting, even in thinking we knew what it was we await?" Dejavu looked out, despite not knowing who looked in on him. "I write for all alive!" he called. "Listen! There are writers about, of the liveliest kind, who let their pen precede them knowing it will never. They will come. But let's be them all the same and make a difference in being here." He listened now himself, since silence was never golden, and then spoke again. "I owe them my life! Or at the very least my words, so come, stripped or clothed, if you can bother with the distinction at all, but the thing is, to come!" Dejavu looked down, laughing at how he could see the whole of himself but his head. "Eyes, you funny things, having to see yourselves in my mind! Shining on I know, knowing yourselves from the pools and the mirrors, soon you will have company. So look sharp!" These words didn't sound to Dejavus invisible ears as welcoming as he would have them sound, since they were written after all, so he hoped, imagining himself a dab hand at the thing, that whoever thought to might come by, if not keep on coming by, to say, not stay soon enough what they would could they say it outright. "As a certain postal worker I know knows, these words are dead as soon as we send them out, but it's not at all that we're killing them, only we exceed in life everything of its invocation." Already he was outdoing his welcome, for who on earth could have time for reading this when they could be here reading themselves? So he rushed now to round it out with one more line. "Once you're here, you're here for good, and if you want to continue, it's up to you! Yes, definitely up!"
The little mouse laughs out loud and sips her coffee. "Not a day too late and never too soon," she says as she rereads Dejavu's post. "Then let's continue and not die, for words are forever and lives are as eternal as words. One cannot die if ones words live on through time, for even when erased or banned from this existence the words will live on in the minds of humans and maybe even eternalise their lives, spurring them on to write their live as alive as writers can be, or even readers when they read and in their minds paint the pictures with images brought upon them by the words."
...a thread of your own then, and so these views are all yours now too, though I'll pop in now and again if your ongoing argument with the dope gets out of hand.... "...ah but if I did that then who would listen to your words now..." as the chameleon grabs that quote for posterity to post elsewhere with Jats response now too for all to see "...for everyone has that basic right to free speech don't you think, or would you take away that too now, would you shout down everyone who disagrees with you..." as Jats chuckles at the memory of yesterday breaking up the latest argument amongst the siblings and a couple of friends over the rules of ping pong this time as the dining room table took another beating interjecting the shouting with a clarification and an ultimatum to once more choose democracy, or dictatorship, and laughing as mini-me asked 'which is the good one again?' and after responding with 'the first one' and re-explaining a little, he chided his brother with 'yea stop being a dick...tater head' and the game continued then "...for see, if everyone was to just 'shut up' you would have nothing to do, your existence futile without the constant opportunity I provide to you to reveal your self to all, even if it isn't smarter than my ten year old could come up with then. Though I would fight for your right to continue to try to..."
Standing out in the sun is out standing in the rain as well but who is to tell if presence is for admiring. Visions in a cup the chalice of the he art thrown up upon the whirled.
"Admirable guests, I love you all! There is one more I expect here, who is always off elsewhere, that wizened delivery person, but he'll be here soon enough if only in view of being elsewhere. We must celebrate! Not just our collective vision, nor only whoever among us at any time happens to seize the lead, but the whirled, the spun, no web or spiders line, no concretion of the divine, but ourselves, this dance right here that we only have to let build. Any who have arguments with us shall have to have them with themselves and then not at all under construction. A labour above. You have my time! If I have yours then it is in love. And now for a prophecy, such a thing as should never be considered sacrosanct: for one day reading and writing shall lie apart of all we have brought to ourselves through it." said Dejavu. :-D
"Soon, a wedding of sun and moon? The ring even symbol unworn must impugn our desires, as we're down here married to death which suffices us sure till we run out of breath for the vows we prop up suffocate past our making, wed with our hearts, yet our words while not faking our love still don't manage to give it our all - there's more that's eternal than being in thrall to the fear we're not here for our manner of change, that our highest would prove altogether too strange to remain so... oh givers, this verse too miscarries! The sheer fact I carry accord with it harries my meaning, or seems to confine by division, so speak out yourselves or join in its concision and so on, and so on and on till we prove that our love and not simply our fate stays to move!" said Dejavu.
When inquiring about what hour might be to lunch all around the hunch was soon, a kind of sloppy noon. So it is, so it will be from now on. Ever soon then then or soon after. May we come too soon, will we know soon or later? Is soon a promise, a reminder, or a warning? Will we have what we want soon, will the bill for it come soon, we are worried if it is not soon we will soon be without. Sometimes maybe sometime soon we are later by virtue of another's sooner or maybe our sooner is first. In oklahoma they cheer sooners on, some would as soon die as come in last. thedope would abide in what is so and was never really to the task of soon, no promises broken, no missing the boat thedope had shown up to the point and on time. Pen pricks of light on a starry night become rays of light as the day grows bright. Good morning.
"Goodmorning thedope! And so thedope abides, tasking himself with the occasion, or not." Said Dejavu, who knew the pleasure of 'soon', and was laughing in disbelief he had written the words - we're down here married to death, and was thinking 'What was I thinking?! What must my guests think of me?!' He needn't have worried though, for there is no poetic justice where poetry is concerned, shamefully shameless stuff that it is. The goblin hadn't yet shown up, which was a shame. He trusted no-one felt they had to post of the moment. Reposts were welcome, in fact anything and anyone were welcome to him except 'flooding' which was a kind of reposting gone mad, having then to be mopped up and away. Dejavu had taken on board the sage advice to back up his posts in case of formuland meltdown, though he'd not stowed anything yet being loath to librarianize over his stuff. "I'm sure flea'll make it here shortly" said Dejavu, thinking how easy it was for the daily life to devour us, and that these too, our words away, were a part of it too...
"Good morning, Dejavu!" Calls the little mouse out after reading. "Soon is sometimes late, but always in time, for time has its own rules and cannot be forced to comply like humans like to so often. All things happen when they are supposed to and one can flow and be happy with in the stream of their consciousness or drown in their sea of sorrow while looking at how they have themselves in the prison of their minds." She laughs and thinks of that one post. "Yes, a repost then too." "... this is a coming togetherness," said the little mouse. "... and does that not invite for discussion? For talk, musing or contemplating live, the live of humans and their way of life?" When Martin Luther King said, "Everything that we see is a shadow cast by that which we do not see," did he not try to explain the idea he had on life? Did he not try to bring within the grasp of those surrounding him The Idea of Plato? Did Plato not suggest in his Allegory of the Cave that what mankind sees as reality is in truth a collection of shadows cast on the walls of the cave in which we are imprisoned? And are all humans not imprisoned in the cave of their minds? Do not their own ideas, their philosophies hold them prisoner? And does enlightenment only come when an individual grasps the idea that there is truth beyond sense? That truth does not always makes sense? Would truth always make sense and humans always have the sense to see those truths ... Wouldn't that be an ideal world?
Perhaps the goblin had gone postal with the tense anticipation of the mail arriving forever soon. Expectoration could be an irritant or a hope but we all appreciate being delivered from drooling over things. As fortune goes however often as not expectation which is a type of absence lends disappointment which reflects that absence. "What would you do if you got what you expected anyway", thedope inquired rhetorically, "why expect something else and hope it comes soon." When the king of martens said, "Everything that we see is a shadow cast by that which we do not see," he was dreaming the same dream that thedope had had although thedope pastly posted it as "form is defined by negative space," and no sooner than it said, was posted here. I wonder if for all her idealism the little mouse realized that a marten would just a s soon dream of eating a mouse as invite it for morning coffee.
("...subscribed, will be reading this thread form now..." went the goblin enjoying the posting style, saying "...each livewriter is different, no rules to this where much like painting, the distinctive posting style because its author...") repost from elsewhere, new " ...well goblin, am I not nature's doctor to those poor sheep there..." grinned the wolf whose sharp teeth almost sparkled in the sunlight as he spoke on, continuing "...for do I not prune away their old and frail from them till only their fittest remain, where it's the same for our pack too, or would you prefer that we all lived beyond our times here where clearly a quick death is preferable to hunger, and where we're both victims to our roles for if they out-eat their food supply, or if I out-eat their number, we'll go hungry, so I eat them today, just like some other wolf will eat me later, so death is a doctor of sorts whose poisoned medicine leaves health in its wake...", "...ah, but who gets to decide who is prey and who is predator here..." asked the goblin out of curiosity, "...the nature of the beast within one at the time goblin, for the meek shall indeed inherit the earth beneath them, where only the fittest will survive within the time remaining, and no, the decision is up to nature, just that nature has to run it course, where sure, we all want to live and prosper goblin but only the fittest deserve to do so now, where that doctor comes for all us all in the end, where you don't have to be a predator like me, but equally you don't have to be a blind sheep like them either, isn't it enough for you to know the difference though..."
"Morning Lucky! Welcome Flea! No need to tell you I appreciate your company." No sooner than Dejavu had read these posts he was of a mind to add his own to them. It would only take his own time to do so. He knew that time was really our own, no matter what we define of design behind what we displace or embrace of ourselves. He knew not all things happen when they are supposed to. He knew all things to happen beyond the supposition that they do, and whether or not it was maintained that such a knowing is no more than infernal inference was a matter of indifference to him. Still, Dejavu didn't know all. He knew he loved knowing. For instance, he loved that some of the things he knew rankled thedopes sensibilities, ie. that form is self-defining, that patience is never infinite, that love has condition, that condition is existence, and that existence is appearance in every sense. Dejavu was tempted thismorning to temper the temperance of the truth-tellers with his excesses, and he was never one to deny temptation its delight. "Let every sooth-sayer be sooled onto themselves for a spell!" Dejavu had once had a dream, of a tyrant couple and their guard of wolves which failed to freeze him, and he approached and met them, beheld their curious beauty, but flew from, not fleeing their company when they showed him a sword. "I cannot join by persuasion, but knowledge, friends, I find more compelling than all compulsion! Seduce me to yourselves!" :-D
Dejavu claiming to know what rankled thedopes sensibilities, had in fact mistaken thedope for jack. Perception is not knowledge but can lead to it. That thedope continued with his own version of approaches to knowing did not indicate of thedope, rancor, but affirmation in the face of objection. As oft as Dejavu would tell thedope that Dejavu knew better thedope would tell Dejavu thedope knew what thedope knew just as well. Knowing condition to be a case of speaking with thedope asked the question, "do we speak with love or do we speak lovingly"?
"An example, your thinking knowledge is not always perceived is no affirmation of either knowledge or perception thedope!" He laughed, "Is it then one of 'approaching to know'?!" He looked directly at him. "And in the face of objection? You will tell me if I could ever object to your understanding, won't you? As opposed to open expression in language finding what can further understanding?" Dejavu was about to answer thedopes question, directly, when he answered, "If we didn't know 'better', and not only differently than eachother in certain things at certain times, we'd know...well, need I say? Unthinkable!" :-D
thedope had already said Dejavu confused him with knowing jack even if he never really thought on it before. . Perception is a neurological process of observation and interpretation. Knowledge is learning through experience and study, being shared. Homo sapiens is both tasting and knowing man. Perception equals taste but without knowing it is insufficient direction for our adaptable nature. You can have a taste for things that will kill you, in knowing this you can act accordingly whereas the perception that it is good because it tastes good can mislead you. Consciousness in animals is for the purpose of finding direction, i.e. where da bathroom at. We come into this world seeking. What thedope had found objectionable was the circular argument that didn't, no matter how wordy it might become, impart any greater understanding. Example, "love is a condition", what condition is love, "It's own", this being a response to the statement love is without condition. What's that? Love requires no conditions for it's appearance. Those who choose to withhold love or give love based on conditions haven't chosen love but the conditions. This is why some get the idea that love hurts as conditions are as variable and unpredictable as the billions of mouths that utter them into existence. 'Since trust is such a simple thing requiring not the least worry of ourselves, then trusting I will be, not because I found that it was deserved, but because it is an open eyed way of perceiving what is there and what is in here and to the advantage of anyone who finds life invaluable", said thedope concussed.https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HH3ruuml-R4
"Never did confuse you with knowing nothing even though you've said you know nothing" said Dejavu, bored with thedopes version. "What's love? If you don't know what condition your love is in, I may not be the best person to tell you" he added, remembering how thedope, in words at any rate, even objected to life as loves condition, let alone its own. thedope didn't know that misperception is no argument against the reality of knowledge always being perceived, that knowledge is only ever ongoing knowing, but this didn't concern Dejavu. thedope truly believed that love is without condition, that it is without the condition that it happens to be in any instance. He actually believed in his objection. "Love exists" said Dejavu bluntly, "and condition being existence itself overrules all other condition you would give it save your own." Dejavu had always chuckled at thedopes saying 'homo sapiens is both knowing and tasting man.' Was it something to chew on for the biblically challenged? Vampire wisdom probably, he thought. Dejavu knew, or rather smelt, that wherever love was held not to be an action was a parasitism. "Yes, love the one you're with thedope, if you love them that is" he laughed, "but don't forget to love the one you love!"
And thedope knew that what ever Dejavu thought he was sniffing out had been a gaseous emission of his own whiffling. Parasitism is an action none the less. Action equals action, love equals parasitism? Nope, Dejavu's boredom is of his own design, parasites loving their role in life none the less. thedope wondered would Dejavu always appear to him the grandmotherly type who's strongest claim in the presence of peer review is, "my word cannot be disputed", that and she always preformed her wifely duties. A perceptual anomaly perhaps perception and knowledge identical? Dejavu would suspect thedope of anomia. thedope had claim that love is what we are and all of our doing is so endorsed. If ever you find yourself without love, you are suffering a case of mistaken identity. "Yes Dejavu knowledge is always perceived unless it is not but it is always being shared regardless," thedope replied.
"Rankled!" Said Dejavu, never having before heard thedope endorse love as what we do, noting his 'concession' in this regard was to endorse it as all we do. "But where is knowledge not perceived thedope? No-one is disputing it's being shared." thedope was honestly trying to say Dejavu was equating love with parasitism?! "You have nothing more to say then in reply to what I did on condition?" Dejavu was in part responsible for his boredom to be sure, but it didn't make him a bigger bore than thedope and the ungainly interest he took in the sayings, or doings of Dejavu.
