A Worrying Question

How cynical must we be towards ourselves,
the better to be internally consistent,
when we examine the apparent cynicism
in the actions of other people?
When one is cynic about cynicism
what does it leave to be open about?

When The Pressure To Live Is Not Life, Just Pressure

Every adult in the world must have at some point
in their youth thought of ending their life rather sharply,
as it would hurt other people more than them.
Wanting to go missing is a common symptom of depression.
In pressured civil societies mental illness is far more prevalent,
and is a far more rational response to pressure,
than is publicly accepted. The common fear for anyone
who is thinking of their end too often for their own ease
is that they will leave behind a mess, which others whom they respect
too much to allow so will have to clear up.
That fear is enough to make many endure the taboo against suicide
and make their reduced sense of agency try to work better.

But for many the bigger fear is of showing any mess at all-even in this life.
This means they concentrate on keeping the mess inside their heads
and refuse to let others deal with it openly.
To them I'd say 'Others will see it anyway, and deal with it
according to their means-do you really think others can't read you?
They do and they will, and the more you resist being read,
the harder you make life, for everybody'.

It Was Always Thus

and time out of mind is always worth too much to measure.

Heaven And Hell?

While walking down the street one day a Corrupt Senator was tragically hit by a car and died.

His soul arrives in heaven and is met by St. Peter at the entrance.

"Welcome to heaven," says St. Peter. "Before you settle in, it seems there is a problem. We seldom see a high official around these parts, you see, so we're not sure what to do with you."

"No problem, just let me in," says the Senator..

"Well, I'd like to, but I have orders from the higher ups. What we'll do is have you spend one day in hell and one in heaven. Then you can choose where to spend eternity."

"Really?, I've made up my mind. I want to be in heaven," says the Senator.

"I'm sorry, but we have our rules."

And with that, St. Peter escorts him to the elevator and he goes down, down, down to hell.

The doors open and he finds himself in the middle of a green golf course. In the distance is a clubhouse and standing in front of it are all his friends and other politicians who had worked with him.

Everyone is very happy and in evening dress. They run to greet him, shake his hand, and reminisce about the good times they had while getting rich at the expense of the people

They played a friendly game of golf and then dine on lobster, caviar and the finest champagne.

Also present is the devil, who really is a very friendly guy who is having a good time dancing and telling jokes.

They are all having such a good time that before the Senator realizes it, it is time to go.

Everyone gives him a hearty farewell and waves while the elevator rises...

The elevator goes up, up, up and the door reopens in heaven where St. Peter is waiting for him, "Now it's time to visit heaven.."

So, 24 hours passed with the Senator joining a group of contented souls moving from cloud to cloud, playing the harp and singing. They have a good time and, before he realizes it, the 24 hours have gone by and St. Peter returns.

"Well, then, you've spent a day in hell and another in heaven. Now choose your eternity."

The Senator reflects for a minute, then he answers: "Well, I would never have said it before, I mean heaven has been delightful, but I think I would be better off in hell."

So St. Peter escorts him to the elevator and he goes down, down, down to hell..

Now the doors of the elevator open and he's in the middle of a barren land covered with waste and garbage. He sees all his friends, dressed in rags, picking up the trash and putting it in black bags as more trash falls from above.

The devil comes over to him and puts his arm around his shoulders.

"I don't understand," stammers the Senator. "Yesterday I was here and there was a golf course and clubhouse, and we ate lobster and caviar, drank champagne, and danced and had a great time. Now there's just a wasteland full of garbage and my friends look miserable. What happened?"

The devil smiles at him and says,   "Yesterday we were campaigning ... ....Today, you voted.."  

Relative Serendipities

Intelligence for its own sake
is often mistaken for arrogance,
whilst ignorance always seems
more unintended but equally annoys.
The measure of a secure individual
is that they resist both perceptions.

I Have Often Thought This

But I rarely act on my choices and engage with my creativity.

Tactile Dialogues

Noise often overwhelms me.
I feel lost in some silences too-
disengaged from who I am
by what I have to do.
Failure is what I taste
however much I try to apply myself.
I am most at ease in quiet engagement
with a physical materials. It is still not rest,
but a beginning of being calmer.
If the fruits of my small labours please some
and calm others after me what else matters?