Two-fold Vision of Humanity

Image by Free-Photos from Pixabay

Midnight stroke a symphony of two-fold clarity, as I paced around in silence while everybody slept. How amusing and how horrific had the picture of humanity appeared before me!


To fulfil our physical sojourn in this world, we seek to make ourselves of value by way of choosing and polishing a craft from which to make a living and sustain ourselves.

Such beauty, is it not? To be able to freely sculpt a fine specimen of a life provided the right influences be present.


With a vision and a purpose, creativity would know no limits, and we would weep with joy at the realization of our potential expanding like supernovas in outer space.

And then it came to me that the body of knowledge that humanity cherishes, all its inventions, are the product of the imagination. From the most academic endeavours to the more overtly artistic expressions, everything we have and have done has had its origin in a thought which has preceded manifestation. All the great accomplishments have had as base someone who provided something which was not available before.

Suddenly, it made no sense to me that such a thing called a job would be so stiff.

It was then that horror supplanted hilarity. We look like figurines running around and groping in the darkness of ourselves and the world around us.

Not only are there no specific rules by which to design life, but our lives are dependent on our imagination and our creativity to build something quite magnificent out of it instead of solely relying on pre-established institutions perpetuating models of reality that may or may not be of value to our lives.

If all be dependent on a sparkling thought, the birth of a new idea via myriad media of inspiration, we would ultimately appoint ourselves to be the prime architect of our lives.

But what happens when man is unleashed in his full creative expression without an in-depth realization of himself and the possibilities all around?

The untold may ensue!

For one, the wild sense of freedom may become so overwhelming as for us to feel trapped with so much potential at the disposal of our judgement and creative flavour.

There would be no one else to point our finger at, as this freedom would become our undoing or our greatest tool for major transformation and empowerment directly from our hand.

Not only would we be responsible for ourselves, free from past conditioned shackles, but the world itself would make us responsible for ourselves.

And from this would emerge the prevailing tendency toward excellence, for once devoid of the distracting excuses and fears shrieking from the bowels of our own personal hells – an excellence geared toward our success and satisfaction once we have embraced ourselves and recognized that we have all we need to be content already within us.

Twenty-four Degrees in Wooden Arrows

Image by Prawny from Pixabay

From childhood’s hour I have not been

As others were – I have not seen

As others saw – I could not bring

My passions from a common spring.

From the same source I have not taken

My sorrow; I could not awaken

My heart to joy at the same tone;

And all I lov’d, I lov’d alone.”

“Alone”, Edgar Allan Poe

By lyrics unsung in the lunar springs,

I danced on the tongues of madness –

An epic eulogy of guileless tantrics,

The merciless eyes of acausality.

By prescient fires of ice and darkness,

The sea-floor’s vault was blown open.

The mortal coil withered in wonder,

And the world drowned in

The chestnut old

Of other-blunder.