Be serious. It echo's through my head, adding gravity to my thoughts. Afterall, they are important, massive thoughts which really ought to have their own gravitational pull. I'm surprised other thoughts aren't orbiting around mine right now, massive as they are. Oh to be serious, the most ultimate of ego trips.

In the material world (read : Madonna's World), gravity serves to keep us grounded. It does all sorts of important things. When taken too seriously it prevents all sorts of others, such as man (or woman) reaching outer space. If we treated gravity with the gravity due to serious thought, who could dare reach beyond it?

Ultimately, gravity holds us back. Bad enough it imposes itself on me in the day to day world, I refuse, with all the seriousness I can muster, to allow it to invade my thoughts too. Thoughts were meant to be weightless, free to populate my skating rink of thought. To defy physics, which we ought to do as much as possible. People treat physics with the upmost seriousness, yet with a single discovery could change all the rules we thought we knew. Still serious about 'the way the world works?'. If the world is filled with people who take themselves and everything around them serious, we owe it to ourselves to keep our minds free of such pesky hinderances.

Until an idea takes hold of your mind, wrangling control away from the nothing that ought be stearing. Then, you must give the gravitational forces their due, allowing your thought to become so massive, it falls from your mind. Plummeting down into the realm of the physical. If only so your mind is free from it's clutches. Once more you will be free to resume a life devoid of the blight of gravitational severity.

“But how do you know?” She asked, with an somberness to her expression far beyond her six years of life should hold.

“How do I know what, sweety?” He responded, tone rich with tenderness.

“That people are good. You said they’re good, but that they do bad things sometimes. How do you know they're really good then?”

There was a matter-of-factness in the way she asked, unaware of the true horrors the world could yield. In life things are seldom so clear. Still, unaware may not be the right phrase, more nonplussed. As if the constant grind of the tragedies and everyday atrocities were little more than an aside. There was something beautiful about it, yet haunting. Children have a unique and piercing way of exposing the idiosyncrasies adults perpetuate. Still, it inspires hope in the respondent, and an attempt to preserve that shaming purity.

“I don’t. I can't. No one can know for certain. There might be people that want to do bad things, and there are times it will be beyond our control. What you can control, is how you look at the world and the people in it. And you know what? Most people don't realize how magical that control is. What you think, that’s what helps shape reality. If you want people to be different, you start by thinking of them different. Then you'll start treating them as if they were. And sometimes, treating them like they can be better, helps them see that it’s still worth trying to be. This magic might not work on everyone, but it will help you be happy and good.

He worried that was too much honesty. Kids need to feel safe, but he also did not like lying to her. He tried not to show his concern as he waited for her response.

“Like when all those bees kept bothering us at lunch? And you said not to move. They didn’t go away, but we didn’t get stung either. Is that cause we were good to them?” She asked, eager for affirmation.

Relief overcame him, as he replied with a sly smile, “I still think they thought you were the prettiest flower they’d ever seen and wanted to be close to you. But you’re right, you showed them you didn’t want to hurt them and they didn’t want to hurt you in return. Sometimes people, and bees, just need another option. And now my dear, I love you, more than the bees love flowers. But it is way past time for you to be getting some sleep.”

It wasn't exactly the point he had been trying to make, but the conversation had gone on long enough. He had to get back to work. Still, he was fortunate his employer allowed him to stop home each night to put his daughter to bed.

He laid a gentle kiss on her forehead and shut out the lights. Whispering in a gentle tone, he added “Sweet blueberry pancake dreams, with extra bacon on the side.”. When she first started sleeping in her own bed, she would get scared. He had her imagine her happiest thought before going to sleep. She immediately listed all the breakfast foods she enjoyed most. The close to their goodnight ritual evolved from there.

He was still smiling as he opened the front door, thinking of her breakfast dreams. He hoped he would be back in time to join her. The smile melted from his face as he entered the Lincoln town car that had sat idling out front by the curb.

“Took you long enough.” His partner chided him.

“When you have kids,you’ll get it. Then again, there’s not a broad in a thousand miles dumb enough to let you stick it in her.” He retorted. “Now shut up and drive. One more collection, then I can get some damn sleep. I’m praying to Christ he has the money this time. Donnie’s already had his last chance and I ain’t up for playing the cobbler tonight.”

“Least we’d already be down at the docks, wouldn’t have to drag him far.” His partner added, by way of silver lining. Neither spoke for the rest of the ride.

In the silence that had engulfed the vehicle, he began pondering Donnie’s fate. It occurred to him that the end was a near certainty. He already played it through in his mind, saw the bubbles rising to the water's surface. Air, frantic in it’s search to escape the murky depths, much like it’s originator. As he thought it, he knew his reality was taking shape and there would be no other way tonight.

Sweat drips from my furrowed brow. My most ambitious accomplishment is moments from coming to fruition. I reflect on the hours spent convincing myself that my efforts were not in vain. All the negativity surrounding my endeavor will be a distant memory.

Finally, I will be able to stand proudly over my creation and watch the smuggness of my critics disapate.

Immersed in fantasy, I overlook a vital connection. I plug my device in and feel a brief moment of triumph as the display begins to glow. I hardly notice the sparks eminating from the outlet, engulfing my studio in flames. As the flames grow larger, my arrogant pride is extinguished.

Left with the choice of attempting to save my lifes work or my own life, I find it is not a choice at all. I gather all I can salvage with great haste. I scour my work station for the fire-proof lockbox, depositing the fragments of dreams inside.

As the air around me becomes sandpaper in my throat, I realize there will be no egress. With success within my grasp, I should savored each moment. Instead, I only found my release.

A mind is a terrible thing to inhibit

Between a rock and a hard place, most choose ego

Cognitive dissonance becomes a reflex…

Disregarding all that disagrees with our reality

Extremes often seem to cut both ways

Flaying those who look too closely

Gander into the abyss…

Hope it does not feel your gaze

Ignorance is bliss but must bliss also be ignorant?

Justification and rationalization are too easily confused

Keep that gaze focused inward, but…

Listen to your mind and body in unison

More and more folks feel alienated by the world around

Now is the time we should be looking to make a change

Once we open our hearts our minds and worlds will follow…

Priorities shift from new perspectives

Quality far outweighs quantity in regards to time spent living

Respite found in the present moment is hardest to see

Stillness can be the greatest of all struggles

Time may be relative but seems more of an in-law

Understanding how your mind and body communicate is key

Verily,

Wondering is in essence movement…

X-rays of the world show curiosity is at its core

Yet here we are…

Zipping through life trying to shut down our thoughts rather than wonder...

I knew from the calamitous expression you wore, that something monumental had just changed. As if the world we once inhabited together, was just a dream. Your eyes are steel and your gaze penetrates the darkest reaches of my soul, leaving me marooned with no hope of rescue.

Your somber artiface betrays a deeper, righteous furry. Ice flows through my veins, though a fire burns in my chest. You speak, and it begins.

It’s strange to watch an ending begin, when the beginning started off so well. One way or another, it always ends when it’s through.

Elanore’s emblazoned extremities elude exegetic explanations. Ephemeral expositions emerge, exciting envious envoys everywhere. Expedient effrontery, especially explicitly erroneous evaluations, echoing ecuminical excoriating. Egotistical enemies exuding elegant edifices elongate exploratory expeditions, erecting established escarpments exorbitantly elevated. Endeavoring evasive elucidations endangers external entities even exemplary ensembles expounding exceptionally effectual environmental education. Enormous, elephantian endowments evolve, empowering equivocal excerpts expressing exaggerated evidence, elsewise ensuring enrollment erupts eternally.

Our love existed in the moments inhibition gave way unbridled authenticity. Caverns form beneith the precipice of your lips, crumbling your otherwise intransigent facade. Exuberance that eluded suppression; the more vigorous the attempt, the more vibrantly our love shone through.