We are all Knights locked in struggle, my friend. Involved (to our necks) in anomalous trends; we fight the good fight, and we fight without end for the credence deserved by this thing that we're in.
Dismissed with the "fringer," our battle uphill, the mainstream's avoidance a sad, bitter pill, we strain and we struggle for reason's fair share; we want some good answers; we question; we dare!
Something's occurring and straining credulity! Something's occurring — to pretend is futility! Conditions are global; it happens, remember, to folks too disparate to fake it — trans-gender! I know some myself. Honest folk, most convincing... ...reporting they're TAKEN and TIME has gone *missing*.
These have their own clarity; their heads are still level. Were it me I should be, I'd think, hammered and beveled. But for all of the strangeness infecting their lives, some live to make use of its mind blowing strife.
They turn it their way and attempt to be positive; their vision is clearer, so they dare interrogatives! They're driven, industrious, and charming when able. They know what they want — They're industrious, capable ... not strident, but ardent to some serious stitches. To the crass opposition — they are brash sons of bitches!
How do these warrant their furious pace? How do they run, like they do, their mad race? How do they keep their composure refined in the face of digressions from purpose they find?
I, too, can get angry at those who I love; I can lash out and rage if a push comes to shove. I can hurt feelings to further the ends we've seen in a vision glad fate must portend! I can lose tolerance! I can lose sight of a good contribution I make to this fight!
But am I forgetting the folks on my team ... the ones standing by me through nightmare and dream?
We fight draining battles without a reward. You'd think that the gods would extend their accord. You'd think we'd get funding for rational approaches that eschew new-age "craziness," confusers, or hoaxers.
A lot like John Ford (?), we go on like the bunny, but hopefully stay out of jail ... not funny. This gives me concern for our strength and intensity, and if we maintain it too "burn-out" propensity! We is too valuable, our labor too dear to fail in this time when the truth may be near.
I hope we're just resting, I hope we take stock — I hope we are open to other's strange thoughts. We know we're not perfect; we've got half a brain! I'm hoping we're here, then, to hear the refrain.
I shudder to think of our energy lost. I shudder to think of that terrible cost! I'm dreading the fracture I'm sure this would make in the work, the crusade, and to all that's at stake!
Noble dark knights, we're tormented, Byronic ... accosted, assailed, by the clueless moronic. This — knowing we suffer, at last, disrespect. We *know* their approaches projected are wet.
We know that our vision is clear if far out and close to some center is what it's about. ...I offer support of the best moral kind; as one has her own quest, it is clear I have mine.
We mirror a passion! We feel a creed. I know what _I_ need when I soar and I cleave! _I_ am enraged at the churlish complacent; _I_ find it hard, friend, to suffer a fool. _I_ am incensed that we're treated like mushrooms, and broken on purpose like mistreated tools!
You?
How does any ONE of us keep it together, remembering that some highly strange stuff likely happens to any one of us? And the point is, is that as it does...we do. It's what we do...
No, the justifications for our ignorance have some other design. Thank God for the courage of the efficacious talented — the under appreciated dwindling few we listen for who truly devote themselves to the big paradigm changing questions, are able to look infinity unflinchingly in the eye... and still have the courage to question that anomalous glare.
Dismissed with the "fringer," our battle uphill, the mainstream's avoidance a sad, bitter pill, we strain and we struggle for reason's fair share; we want some good answers; we question; we dare!
Something's occurring and straining credulity! Something's occurring — to pretend is futility! Conditions are global; it happens, remember, to folks too disparate to fake it — trans-gender! I know some myself. Honest folk, most convincing... ...reporting they're TAKEN and TIME has gone *missing*.
These have their own clarity; their heads are still level. Were it me I should be, I'd think, hammered and beveled. But for all of the strangeness infecting their lives, some live to make use of its mind blowing strife.
They turn it their way and attempt to be positive; their vision is clearer, so they dare interrogatives! They're driven, industrious, and charming when able. They know what they want — They're industrious, capable ... not strident, but ardent to some serious stitches. To the crass opposition — they are brash sons of bitches!
How do these warrant their furious pace? How do they run, like they do, their mad race? How do they keep their composure refined in the face of digressions from purpose they find?
I, too, can get angry at those who I love; I can lash out and rage if a push comes to shove. I can hurt feelings to further the ends we've seen in a vision glad fate must portend! I can lose tolerance! I can lose sight of a good contribution I make to this fight!
But am I forgetting the folks on my team ... the ones standing by me through nightmare and dream?
We fight draining battles without a reward. You'd think that the gods would extend their accord. You'd think we'd get funding for rational approaches that eschew new-age "craziness," confusers, or hoaxers.
A lot like John Ford (?), we go on like the bunny, but hopefully stay out of jail ... not funny. This gives me concern for our strength and intensity, and if we maintain it too "burn-out" propensity! We is too valuable, our labor too dear to fail in this time when the truth may be near.
I hope we're just resting, I hope we take stock — I hope we are open to other's strange thoughts. We know we're not perfect; we've got half a brain! I'm hoping we're here, then, to hear the refrain.
I shudder to think of our energy lost. I shudder to think of that terrible cost! I'm dreading the fracture I'm sure this would make in the work, the crusade, and to all that's at stake!
Noble dark knights, we're tormented, Byronic ... accosted, assailed, by the clueless moronic. This — knowing we suffer, at last, disrespect. We *know* their approaches projected are wet.
We know that our vision is clear if far out and close to some center is what it's about. ...I offer support of the best moral kind; as one has her own quest, it is clear I have mine.
We mirror a passion! We feel a creed. I know what _I_ need when I soar and I cleave! _I_ am enraged at the churlish complacent; _I_ find it hard, friend, to suffer a fool. _I_ am incensed that we're treated like mushrooms, and broken on purpose like mistreated tools!
You?
How does any ONE of us keep it together, remembering that some highly strange stuff likely happens to any one of us? And the point is, is that as it does...we do. It's what we do...
No, the justifications for our ignorance have some other design. Thank God for the courage of the efficacious talented — the under appreciated dwindling few we listen for who truly devote themselves to the big paradigm changing questions, are able to look infinity unflinchingly in the eye... and still have the courage to question that anomalous glare.
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