Dancing with werewolves

A little over one week ago, strange, but not really strange considering the enormous grief we have to wade through before the true self emerges with revelation, we read these words:

...I can’t shake this feeling that the cavalry is on the way. I keep hearing the hoof beats. They increase and recede like the waves upon the shore. They seem to come from all directions. I can’t interpret it but for some reason, I feel better today and in recent days than I have in some time...

Maybe you reading them now, all over again, are like me in these things, a reader who reads between the lines, always looking for the meanings with which we can identify. To identify with another person's experience unifies us and that unification is compassion. Its helpful to read Visible's masterwork again and then again. There are all sorts of thrilling lens flares bursting beyond the paragraphs, so many you easily miss some as one outshines another and so forth.

For longer than I knew, I've been disgusted by the tabloid turn of events. My mornings are repeatedly spent edging into and away from anguish by my own participation through reading the articles and headlines issued by the Illusion. I won't link anyone reading this to them. I'm not cruel. If that is what you want your world to be, you already know where to find it. Immediate access is instantly available to everyone everywhere, like the seasoning packets in the San Francisco Treat or even faster, your TV. At first, I didn't recognize what was happening. I just knew I should be doing something else, something finer with my time. I thought maybe it was the ads. Then I thought it was the dial-up process and buying more bad news delivered at higher speeds would help. Then it was the trolls or the spies or the robots, which were only more targets of off-topic blame that avoided the original issue concerning the stunning absence of that something finer.

The Calvary coming is an us that removes ourselves from the abyss by individual boycott. The magnet drawing us to the edge is never going to disappear. You are aware the abyss exists, but you also see your participation, however small, invites anguish. It will forever beckon because it is a mystery which we know how it unravels and feel an obligation to explain. We always knew it and through conditioning denied we knew it, again through conditioning, participated in the questions and played inside its maze. I will go so far as to say, it is the zeitgeist in which we live and love, day in day out uniting in our anguish, identifying with the disease, dancing to its music, wearing its fashions, allowing its predations to color our dreams and produce its nightmares while we sleep.

I don't feel that it is required of me, or anyone else, to take a stand at this time. Take a stand and you're right back in the maze. Think of it as a huge impenetrable balloon. You can touch it, see it, smell it, press it and it plumps out again, it has no lasting response to pressure. It does not change except to increase ever larger until its taken over the entire horizon. But if you look away, you don't see it at all. To exist, it requires us looking at it.

Need I even mention we are all in unique personal situations, the same but different? We're outside the balloon experiencing it from billions of complex angles giving it billions of excuses for existing. Of course, this would be the increasing and receding echo of that Cavalry. If you turn off and put away all of your electronic diversionary magnets, you can hear it more clearly. As the next wave of Option ARMs is upon the land, coinciding exactly as it will with religious and mercenary pedophilia, economic corruption, pipelineistan and climate chaos, the beating of hoofs is going to turn into whole Earth shattering thunder and we might very well see that which we were destined to see. Ask yourself, how are these elements helping you personally? What is the attraction? Why even bother...