Two pebbles washed up on the beach. They miss admiring the beautifully coloured fish swimming by. One pebble is tall and round, on occasion he can see the fish jump. The other is low and flat, he can see nothing of the beautiful fish, just the cloud above. Each time the tall pebble caught glimpse of a fish jumping, he would boast of his height and how undeserving the flat stone was of this view, the flat one fumed, yet what could he do?
Weeks and months pass of flats fishless view, listening to the boasts of tall. Till one day a child spots the pair laying in the sand. Round pebble sits proud, while flat just lays feeling all his misfortune. Yet the child disregards the big round pebble and takes the flat one between his fingers and walks towards the shore. With a flick of his wrist flat skips four times then sinks to the bed, to watch the wonderful glimmering fish some more.


It’s a myth that lemmings are suicidal, and other so called suicide attempts by animals, are merely twists of truth or altruistic drones.
We alone have the unique brain to imagine so vividly, both joy and doom.


Generational frequencies are not allowing me to enjoy today’s music.
My frequency is long gone and only available in the historic tapes.
I cannot hear the purpose of today’s music due to our frequencies being off kilter. Not because it’s crap or anything.


It goes without saying,
that unsaid words are left
to fester in the ether
while ears that wish to hear them
wonder why they are withheld.


It has been hard,
rest now
it will be hard tomorrow.


One thought on “Transition

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