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melding of the juices.

there are few things that this world fuses quite so jaggedly as the appearance of human beings in all their splendor. sorry for the strong heaps of sarcasm, but it is a sin not to affect the real irony of the situation. when we are born, we are summoned up from a nether realm of purity splicing through the marrow and meat of this existence, and bathed in the light of the real and solid. that only seems apparent once we are here, though, and we quickly fall in with others ideas of what being here means to them which were influenced by other forces as well and so on from the beginning. there are some who think that to push their will upon other beings is the way to go, but there are no such certainties in a place filled with beasts and barons who won’t settle for enough. so we all seem to fall into line behind the next person that makes up the queue of eternal damnation. what a way to go. eh? death brings with it an assertive tasking of the host that falls apart then, and when the hour strikes, more than just a spirit escapes into the rest of the whole. we are constantly in err thinking that our genes are the sequence, along with teaching the next generations, that makes our wills manifest through alternate means. not so, i say. what we glimpse as beings were our purposes as ethereal entities, and when we manifest as physical beings, these purposes become very real though hazy visions to guide us by. we can be easily fooled from our true paths, but the ending is always inevitable because our purpose is our tasks throughout. this is the world progressing for its own purposes, and we simply play the roles of messengers and movement of ideas, we are the electrons. these are some heady thoughts to take note of, but when death occurs, the path is not lost merely the body. the “juices” that become of experience and our individuality meld with the rest of reality through the people we have known and the stories we have participated in. the possession of power can intrigue some, but ensnares others into believing that power is necessary for the sake of potency. these powers that be are less potent than they might appear to be, but are constructs of the greater contributions of the spiritual parts residing within people’s human minds and bodies, a far more ancient and less predictable strength that comes from everything and nothing all at once. The grey area that we can only perceive in theory, but never in the black and white quanta of data, as this is the place where classification occurs to strip down and put everything under its own umbrella of terms. there are hidden natures inside the box visible to the others, but to pry open the lid requires knowledge beyond certainty, something that few will admit to being possible here. the darkness. even through the unknown, though, there is a light that makes traversing these waters less treacherous to fathom. no matter the depth that forces us to see the darker sides of ourselves. telling ourselves that we shouldn’t flinch when we stare directly into the flare of fear there. the heart is what will tear down the preconceived notions that build our identity, and we find the fickle fortitude to stomach the pain of resistance that leads to our misconception beneath the muddy waters in spite of the worst kinds of fear that might try to control us with guilt and regret under the skin. the data spreads no matter what degree one has diverted from their own path, and the “juices” all flow evenly over the others in the psychic plateau that might serve as the grid to connect us all from within. when great people pass away in their time, their ideas and lessons do not wholly fade with them, but instead further transmogrifies the additional information that comes from the same wellspring. traits and feelings are all passed on to those devote their time to understanding the specific realms where these ghosts lurk, triggering inspiration, and becoming the next wave to splash us over the eyeballs. blinking the settled dust from our eyes as we speed to an epiphany that couldn’t have occurred without our meddling in someone else’s affairs. this brings with it the weight of ages past, the heavy water, and pushes us beyond the limits that we came to think were so solid but never were really. some of us have sanctioned our souls to the furnace in order to keep others afloat in a realm of possibilities, but that does not mean that they suffer, that is only used as an example to keep those others in line. following a mythical status quo which looks down upon like a metaphysical cyclops watching us suffer through servitude to progress. furthermore, when a person “dies” the lesson never stops there, but instead the information they bequeath to humanity gets metabolized by the greater consciousness. which is how any of the knowledge gets transmitted to the rest of the cycle, that how the ideas and theories get tested and proven, and this is how progress truly works. at peaks in this system, there are wars and troubles that provoke new perspectives to bleed out of the wounds, and the new echelon is reached when that prickly sensation fades from the nerves. the discovery of new ways and means is constant in the development of adaptation here. moving through the crawl to the step to the leap, and always passing from the boundaries of reality to the boundless depths of the imagined, the unknown is the manifestation of our awkward sense of self through the realization limitless potential. legacies are born where others die off, and this is all so pretentious and true.