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Friday the 13th

What is there to write that has not been written before? Likely we won’t be seeing an October like this again, with this Friday in the middle of it, at all any time soon. My infatuation with what kind of “luck” I might have on a day like today, is lost in the knowledge that you have to make work whatever you have got left, and not to play around too much with what you do have that is any good. The wind whistles through my brain, and Here I am trying my damnedest to try whistling with it. It is difficult to say what I want to, and it feels as though that I have been writing for hours, maybe even centuries as I first thought. Today has been quite the day of interesting sequences further bringing us together, but I am not sure of the outcome, except for the fact that I am not afraid for the future of my life. Whatever it is that I must face, I will come out of those conditions having learned something valuable about the way in which your whole life can be taken for granted, but the way that others have no control over the search for enlightenment that must be realized as an individual alone. Not truly alone within the masses, but surely enough of a state that it is difficult upon the coping abilities that a human being is capable of when the circumstances require, making some periods of life perfectly unbearable. At least, not without going a little mad first, and we’re all mad Here. Some aspect of ourselves melts into the all that we are a part of from within, we never truly leave this system of gears and the grinding they do, but we are subject to the confounded progress that bits and pieces itself into completion. To the point where only our progress remains, and we are but lonely ideas long since past our prime, does birth count as a head trauma? Far out question, but I must ask for the collective consciousness that litters this realm, not but for myself though also for those who need not understand that question does exist. Surely, though, I am not the first to have entered this quandry into the record, but most certainly won’t be the last until the answer is found. If you were born today, I give you much proper respect, and a very happy birthday. One may never need find luck from without, for within is a will to motivate, and somewhere off-center is the destination running all throughout. We are in a place we cannot escape, there is only the hope for a settling of energies, and a recombination of sequences to create more growth from a subversive level. The secret to luck is the finding of magick, not from an outside source even though it does manifest outwards, but a source to the energy from inside that reveals itself upon the synchronicity of events and timing, a force that can be subject to the whim of random thought. Through the many layers processing the cosmic motion, our intellect seems microbial in comparison, but to be housed within such a modular creature. Manifesting a will that has no particular explanation, except through such scientific concepts as magick and blood types, but does anyone else ever come up with answers? Never right now, only after that question is ever asked does an answer start to manifest, though there are instances where answers were there all along. Ah, the gibberish never stops Here at the fun factory, and eating the subconscious matter of fact, breaking it down and floating it off. Here we never see the light of day, only the right of way, and it seems to be such a certain sway that washes away stray thoughts. My grey matter needs a break, so I shall disperse at once, and leave not much but these words to satisfy one’s palette of the bizarre rantings that one man is capable of saying and/or writing.

Thanks, khet.