Marbles and Madmen

Turning the page a thousand miles a minute. Fancy flashes of light before your eyes. Darting this way and that, sliding from left to right. Only to remain a glimpse in your peripheral. Unequal sentiments of proprietary blends of this and that. Such a rush. 

Glamour. Gimmer. Shine. And shimmer. 

Fancy that! Fate or free will. Do we dare go there? Something tells me we ought not to. Ought not go down that rabbit hole. Spiraling towards the great abyss again at a thousand miles a minute. Faster, faster! You’ll miss the rush. 

The sweet escape of nonchalant conversation with the local barista on your quest to fuel up on the latest nitro, diesel, Redbull mocha. You know, the one with sprinkles on top. Heh. I kid.

We’re all kids. Skipping along down the lane with our safety safely tucked in our pocket in the back. Safe from it all. The bad men. The warlocks. The tyrants. The misfits. The golden girls who have fallen from grace. 

This place. It doesn’t seem all that different though. 

There wasn’t much thought put into it. Whoever created this universe didn’t seem all that interested. Create it. Pump it out. Rearrange it. Disconnect it. Put it all back together again.

What a fabulous moment to witness. Erring on the side of caution to boldly go where no one has EVER, never, couldn’t possibly have gone before. 

This thought process doesn’t seem congruent.

Not in the least bit sensible. 

But pondering on down to the next, latest trend lets hashtag that. #marblesandmadmen. No, wait! #madmenandmarbles. We’ll see if THAT sticks. Not enough tape? Got super glue. No worries. Got your back. Plenty here for everyone. 





The latest and most broken news. 

You want it, you got it. Pleasantly surprised by the tactful notion that all things may exist harmoniously all within the comforts of our own homes. 

The down trodden. The drenched. The despaired. And yet surreptitiously infiltrating the vast outer pace of the planet. Of our farthest galaxies. 

Time stands still as we walk down the same double lane street. In opposite direction of each other and yet missing each other completely. Completely engulfed in flames of passion and enticing glimpses of genius. One coming from where the other is going. Oh sweet irony. 

The path of least resistance for one is the upstream thinking for another. Waves of momentum building on each other until left standing side by side. As merely an elusive glimpse in the peripheral. We all wonder what the others are up to, but haven’t the slightest requirement of guts to step outside our own creative bubble for fear of bursting the “already pushing the boundaries” tension that exists within. 

That’s not to say we don’t care. 

But just that we haven’t the arm span. The reach of an albatross needed to tickle the outer shimmer of the other bubble. A fear of bursting it. We care about others. Though, we care too much to bother. To dare. To reach out and beyond that which we know. 

The desire to keep moving within an illusion that rests upon an already spinning conveyer belt of “time”.

Bothering. Harming. Stifling the creative process of another. Don’t want to be bothered or can’t be bothered? That IS the question. Of this moment. Of this life. Of this century. Of this existence. 

Two sides of the same street both with two different perspectives that equal four(ty-two). The light side of life with its ups and downs, or shadows and shimmers. And the dark side, with it’s downs and ups, or sharks and dolphins. We are all such small specks within the grand scheme of things. So small. And sacred. And sensitive. 

But we care. And we matter. And our minds are brimming with new ideas all the time. Never ending. 

Even when we sleep, we dream. 

And past that who knows. But the special thing about this whole perspective is that although we are all in this together, there is a sense… a growing sense, at an unprecedented rate, to reach out. To spread our wings. And tickle the passerby’s cheek. A little wink and a nod that says “keep on shining”. You got this. That magic. It’s in you. It’s in all of us. And although we may not have the capacity in this moment right now to see how it will all come together in the end, it will. That’s the grand scheme of things. 

The free will within the fate. It’s all tied together. 

And the faster we go, the farther we travel. To where exactly? No one knows. But I bet it’s going to be beautiful. 

We’ve got the momentum. 

We’ve learned the dance moves. 

We have the rhythm and bass. 

Now it’s time to jump together in unison. As high as we can. To defy gravity. Shatter the laws of physics and float off in a new direction with its own rules and regulations. No need for speed. No time to wonder. 

How fantastic it will be. Just waiting on a few now… they’re still in line for that customized oat milk beverage. The one with no whip. But don’t worry, they’ll be on time. For time stands still when you’re in the zone. No need to rush. No need to hesitate. No need to fear. This will all come in time. 

And when that time comes those that are considered sanein this world will become the madmen who have lost their marbles. And the marbles will roll along to the next poor soul laying on the floor. To knock some sense into them. Once they find that sense, they will forever be madmen. 

For the sense that matters lies within that which has none. 

Beyond the limits of what we can comprehend is a more gloriousness than anything we’ve ever experienced before. But before that can happen, we need unison. Harmony. Wholeness. 

For we are all connected. 

And each of our creative bubbles plays an imperative role in the grand bubble bath of all that is. So before we get there, have a coffee. Or a decaf. Whatever tickles your fancy and head on over to the train of transcendence. 

We’re leaving pretty soon as I gather. 

And there’s a spot with your name on it. Whether you like it or not. Just take heed… there will be no beverages allowed on the train. 

Oh man, we gotta find the madman that wrote that rule. He better be on that train too. 

I have a thing to say… or two.

Published by theorganicprocess

Just another fleck of stardust in this cosmic mystery of the mind.

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