If my nose still works and the calendar is correct, then it’s that time again. People communally expressing thanks for a band of 17th century refugees breaking bread with a band of ancient wanderers. Celebrating the fusing of Puritan tradition with nomadic first nation convention is best memorialized by consuming copious amounts of flightless fowl, enjoying American style football, and soaking up family. For the past decade and a half this day of plenty has been home to a personal rush of light-seeking. When thinken goes to written, then I’ve gotten to The Chronicles of a Lost Southerner.
Greetings from the space orb’s lido deck. Best wishes and good fortune upon this race of galactic nomads as we tumble through the universe on a water covered interstellar lava ball. To be honest, a lifetime spent pacing around a big atomic fireball in the sky can be maddening when the journey is ill-defined and no destination in sight. The alternative is nigh, so I am grateful my flesh suit rental was not due back to the soil.
Calling out to fellow tenant astronauts who seek truth as their star chart to navigate our place. Without a guide, the fool is surely doomed to chasing the self down a foggy ambush trail -- inevitably toward chaos. Truth is the religion to save us from chaos. Because it is the god of the damned siccing dragons of chaos upon us when truth is abandoned. Chaos is not followed, worshiped, or praised. Yet, in thought or in action many kneel at it’s altar of waste. Waste… the greatest of sins. Wasting life, love, relationships, thought, or time. Time is only unique to this reality, and the truest of test for all. Blessed be the ones who do not feel it’s influence. For those haunted by the unstoppable fleeting, may the weight of life distract you and me.
We are pack animals that need weight on the back to progress. We are human, not beast of burden. But even the highest form of life, with the freedom to choose, can become bogged down at the crossroads of personal motivation and social constructs. Unbalanced toward the latter leads to herding and echo chambers of thought. Best of intentions filtered through groupthink are a collective dictator of any utopia. We mustn’t wallow with the swine or throw pearls before them. Endearment to the greater human race means striving for further light and knowledge at the peril of turning some pigs toward the sea.
Until this time next year, be well and continually in good spirits. May your days be filled with joy and surrounded by those you love.
Be pro-choice, always choose life.
Jarvis
