Beginning to end
And then we transcend
Pretend for a minute
That we start in the middle and finish with the start
Or that the end was the beginning and vicars were tarts
Are we really that keen
On that seen life routine
This structured order we fall into
We’ve all already been through
Born out of porn
We begin to perform
A clean slate with innate traits
the true human form,
moulding into the norm
which scorns society
torn to find a direction in life
because that is how we were told to hold the knife.
The thorn of normality
Stops us questioning what could be
When are we ever truly free?
Have we stopped evolving
Solving ourselves through strife
And that ever-present
“meaning of life?”
Has our internal focus lost its hocus pocus
That we base judgement on the external inferno
Building an image
Which somehow perfects our picture-perfect place as a piece in the puzzle of this popular populated planet
Can it really be that simple?
Do we really all fit into this one big puzzle plate
Which we all think we can state
But does this sense truly sense clarity
Of what we are and what we could be?
We push to win some race of our over-perfected face in this world
But who are we racing?
Some other life form who’s swarm we haven’t even discovered yet?
No, there is no such thing as a norm.
A non-existent concept
We should regret
The more we abide by its terms
The less everybody learns
And no matter how hard we try
We will never learn to fly
And every time, somewhere, somehow
We get it as we would call it “wrong”
Stop and think that maybe that is where we are strong.
So go ahead,
To being that simple minded creature
Close the window
Lock up your past
Hide away your present and future
Cast aside your inhibitions, superstitions and missions
And just BE…