fume inside smoke

binding contract:

… that there is only one state of consciousness properly constituted to eliminate compulsive anxiety: the recognition that there is only now, that now is driven by fortune and that all else is illusion. Scripture has it:

I returned, and saw under the sun, that the race is not to the swift, nor the battle to the strong, neither yet bread to the wise, nor yet riches to men of understanding, nor yet favor to men of skill; but time and chance happeneth to them all.

Ecclesiastes 9:11

via Dick Jones @ patteran

filed under poem

via Wordcetera and written by I Wear Many Hats

When I was ten
I saw spaceships running through the sky
We flew them fast
We built them out of cardboard
And painted them with imaginary stars

When I was ten
I had a saber battle on the sea
You said en garde
We jumped on tire swings
And left the woodchips in the dust

I could use a bit of pretending
So can’t you come back
And we’ll play a happy ending

Years and years ago
We were lost, we were slow
We had plans, we had time
We found gold, we found grime
You and me, we were the team
So long ago, seems like a dream

Maybe it sounds condescending
But don’t you want to go back to pretending?