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| Hell Frozen Over... |
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We are intrepid Knights locked in struggle, my friend. Involved (to our necks) in anomalous trends, we fight the good fight but we fight without end for the credence deserved for these UFOs, then. ...And what can that be but regard for our skies alive and a crawl with what "stranger" who "flies."
.
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! It's straining credulity! Something's emerging! A denial's futility! Conditions are global; it happens, remember, to folks too disparate to fake it—comprende? I know some myself. Honest folk, most convincing... ...reporting they're TAKEN and TIME has gone *missing*.
.
These possess clarity; their heads are still level. Were it me I should think, I'd be hammered and beveled. ...But for all of the strangeness infecting their lives, some live to make use of its mind blowing strife. Songs are composed and then words are made woven; an art is compelled and a poetry chosen. The box is burst open and one is outside to live new experience as one comes alive!
.
One turns it their way and attempts to be positive; that vision is clearer, so let's dare interrogatives! Be driven, industrious, and charming when able. You know what you want—be industrious, capable ... not strident, but ardent to some serious stitches. To the crass opposition—be those 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 contrived? Well, given experience of what has transgressed? The burden is truth, and one knows the rest.
.
I, too, can get angry at those whom I love; I can lash out and rage where a push comes to shove. I can hurt feelings... to further the ends... perceived in a vision glad hope must portend! I can lose tolerance! I can lose sight of a good contribution to make the right fight!
.
...But am I forgetting the folks on my team ... the ones standing by me through nightmare and dream? Are they forsaken, forgotten, repressed, denied, and discounted, elapsed, and oppressed? Well, not on my watch, there is something occurring, My take is we're served by the things we'd be learning.
.
Too, they fight draining battles without a reward. You'd think that the gods would extend some accord. You'd think they'd get funding for proper approaches—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 succumb to... a "burn-out" propensity! We are too valuable, our labor too dear to fail in this time where some truth may be near!
.
I hope we're just resting, I hope we take stock—I hope we are open to another'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 liberty 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, the tormented Byronic ... accosted, assailed, by the bought-in moronic. This—knowing we suffer, at last, disrespect. We *know* status quos as proposed are all wet.
.
We know that our vision is clear if far out and close to some answer on what it's about... ...I offer support of the best moral kind; as one has their 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! "Soaring" is vital, an act that one needs, convincing a person they're off of their knees. "Cleaving's succeeding the missions assigned, where goals are achieved and you have peace of mind.
So, _I_ am enraged at the failing 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 those 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! It's straining credulity! Something's emerging! A denial's futility! Conditions are global; it happens, remember, to folks too disparate to fake it—comprende? I know some myself. Honest folk, most convincing... ...reporting they're TAKEN and TIME has gone *missing*.
.
These possess clarity; their heads are still level. Were it me I should think, I'd be hammered and beveled. ...But for all of the strangeness infecting their lives, some live to make use of its mind blowing strife. Songs are composed and then words are made woven; an art is compelled and a poetry chosen. The box is burst open and one is outside to live new experience as one comes alive!
.
One turns it their way and attempts to be positive; that vision is clearer, so let's dare interrogatives! Be driven, industrious, and charming when able. You know what you want—be industrious, capable ... not strident, but ardent to some serious stitches. To the crass opposition—be those 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 contrived? Well, given experience of what has transgressed? The burden is truth, and one knows the rest.
.
I, too, can get angry at those whom I love; I can lash out and rage where a push comes to shove. I can hurt feelings... to further the ends... perceived in a vision glad hope must portend! I can lose tolerance! I can lose sight of a good contribution to make the right fight!
.
...But am I forgetting the folks on my team ... the ones standing by me through nightmare and dream? Are they forsaken, forgotten, repressed, denied, and discounted, elapsed, and oppressed? Well, not on my watch, there is something occurring, My take is we're served by the things we'd be learning.
.
Too, they fight draining battles without a reward. You'd think that the gods would extend some accord. You'd think they'd get funding for proper approaches—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 succumb to... a "burn-out" propensity! We are too valuable, our labor too dear to fail in this time where some truth may be near!
.
I hope we're just resting, I hope we take stock—I hope we are open to another'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 liberty 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, the tormented Byronic ... accosted, assailed, by the bought-in moronic. This—knowing we suffer, at last, disrespect. We *know* status quos as proposed are all wet.
.
We know that our vision is clear if far out and close to some answer on what it's about... ...I offer support of the best moral kind; as one has their 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! "Soaring" is vital, an act that one needs, convincing a person they're off of their knees. "Cleaving's succeeding the missions assigned, where goals are achieved and you have peace of mind.
So, _I_ am enraged at the failing 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!
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 those 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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