Tags: humanifesto | life | ramblings

We wondered when you would show up, breathing fire and mocking us for blowing smoke. The cotton candy on your head, and eyes like targets...

People often confuse living for being alive, you might question it, but it's so sweet you couldn't help but chew on it. We know that if you return they'll never allow you 33 years this time. So reluctant to show us what you can make, that most of us have given up waiting.

Except for the freaks, who see the sense in a four day work week. When we heard that you wouldn't work, most of us were shocked, we started looking for things for you to do. we came up with a laundry list of complaints, and reasons why you should stay here. With us, with our senseless appreciation of time, and our trusty routines.

Like skits, we couldn't understand how you were so skittish. Yeah, you told us about last time, and we went back to our books to show you where you were wrong, as if you wouldn't remember. The general consensus was that we would eventually have to do you in again, the only question remained; but when? Of course, that only led to a covert organization of your escape.

You assured us there was no need to show you the way, and that this was clearly all temporary anyways. For a while most couldn't help but weep, water levels being far too high already. Another river of tears might just sink all dry land once and for all. Another approach needed to be taken, something that could take us higher, show us that sweetness only suggested in those good books.

It may take a little longer for us to make water into wine, but why not, if we have the time. We'll show you that you don't have to provide all the miracles.

You'll be free to stay anonymous, to be blinded by the light (from a 'sun' gone mad), and slip inside to a place you've only ever dreamt of. Lightning might strike twice, and this time the acknowledgement you own isn't for everyone, and the miracles belong to those willing to let you be.

Our acknowledgement is for you, and the chances you take to find your way back through this paper maze. If we don't meet again, those who know will whisper in corners long after we get to the other side.

Excuse all peaceful indulgence, hoppy holidays.