This is the End

I have been itching to write for a few days now. But distractions and the eternal demands of cleaning and upkeep have taken precedence. I am trying to tap into the mother lode, the interior monologue that runs clear and strong within. The stream that is the me of me, the purest and unfiltered languague of the self, unrestricted by naysayers and the boot heels of the world. Why is that people, not all people, but most people, want to bring others down, to limit and restrict them, to inhibit others? Why is that most people are so desperate and unhappy. unfulfilled? I speak for myself, but also for many, the mass of men. Recognizing this inner sanctum and accessing it should be my objective from now on out. Find a straw, a pipeline into the channel, then channel the energy, treating it as the 24 karat gold that it is. Be positive, be sure, and above all, be unaffected by anything pedestrian around you. Or me. It may be misapplied, but the quote from Shylock [CQ] in Othello works here: "to thine own self be true." In the weeks from early fall to Christmas, this time of transition has yielded its changes. They may yet be for the future, but the seeds are there and the time is nigh. Step out of the shadow in order to discover oneself in the both harsh and warm sunlight of the brilliant, forthcoming year! Rise up, Arjuna!