Local City Limits

     I am wandering along the roadside on one of my many journeys just before doing my awakenings underneath the overpass that is closest to my being at any particular moment and yet I am aware I am still asleep.
      As posture and ponders balance themselves I am aware that the system we so incoherently indulge is, is one of free will.  Not that any of us have any real clue as to what this means, because it has nothing at all to to with predestination. Rather the gestalt lies in acceptance that there is a balance between here and there, in so much as if there is right, there is wrong, just like if there is good there is bad, and so it goes sometimes to the highest bidder.
       What we conceive as God, or All That Is, or just one form or another of Love, or just consciousness Itself is the notion that we are always in the control of the outcome and though we might not like the imagery we experience, it is not because something or someone is allowing it to happen, we are the perpetrators, not some unforeseen force beyond our control.  There are infinite acts in this play, whether it be of or by passion or some form of dramatic recompense, so trying to sift through one malaise after another is often a daunting task, or if you must, a high wire act of contrition.  We cannot allow ourselves to blame anyone other than ourselves.  
         What we come in contact with is essentially a challenge we have chosen and diving into either the deep or shallow end of any given pool is just the beginning of the workout, and the ripples created are our own personal adventures.  If we gave ourselves no challenges, provided no diversity in our environment, with nothing to expand, or to remember why we have chosen such a consciousness to reflect to create the illusion of time, where in the world would we find ourselves.  It's all happening at the Zoo, and the words of this poet are written on the Subway Walls, and the Man in the Gaberdine suit is a Spy, his tie is actually a camera.       Mister Toad invites you along for his wild Ride on Silver Moon, before and after the fact.  The Point is Moot at this Juncture. 
      Corporations are not people, democracy cannot be bought, income inequality is not a presupposed disposition, trying to make it hard to vote is not creating diversity, stopping any gender from making individual decisions about their own bodies is not a spiritual or religious awakening of any sort, and finding ways to subvert the plethora of outcomes is just plain lunacy.  Why, because we love you, M-O-U-S-E...you all come back now, ya hear?  Philanthropy is in the eyes, minds and bodies of the beholders.