Something

Now when I perceive lack of something,

Its almost a third person Me violently pointing it out to me.

And I make a numb observation.

I make note. And commence the chase.

But it was once, when I could understand.

The lack of something,

Which would unlock the door

To everything.

Lack is real.

But perception is realative.

Desire for something is a realative state of being;

No other reality exists, save that.

Somewhere I sinned just like the rest of us...

I worked towards the fulfilment of that desire -

To attain that state;

To make something;

To get everything.

Lack is real.

The lack – of money, friendship, power and prestige.

That lack, purportedly, turns into a reality shaped and nurtured by perception

Perception that instils desire, borne of lack.

Desire acts on fertile plains of the mind to grow dreams.

Dreams of another reality, almost too perfect almost too good.

What is too good, often is untrue.

That, therefore, borne of untruth

Is a lie, poisonous for to a living soul.

Death of the soul is not death for the body

It opens the portals to that alternate reality

That which is real, is lack.

That which I have isn’t just quite enough

I need more to grow

I have a face now

That face is recognized everywhere

I’m the new entrant, one with the Power.

I have the power to get what I lack

I have the power to make my own reality

And there is no end to it

Now my face attracts money, wealth

and Friends...

Now I am the leader

And the only way to lead, is to stay ahead of the pack

The pack of hungry wolves, their eyes full of hungry dreams

We’re wolves, all...Bad wolves.

Good – it’s just a perception.

Good needs prey too - it preys on evil.

Always a cycle of feeding.

Each one - A hunter, until hunted down.

Mindless and benumbing, the quest for something

It is not of this world; and how are we to have what is not ours in the first place??

Ours – its a world of perception. Not Reality.

Ours – is not the prey, not the victory, not wealth nor happiness nor peace of mind.

Ours is the thirst for blood.

Ours – is the struggle to experience and overcome each day.

Ours is just the mindless chase and not the purposeful hunt.

Not for us to be sated. And so we must wander.

Always looking for Something.