“I went to Paris once. I thought I had a plan” is an understatement of more than epic proportions when compared to reality of the speleological echoes and shadows of the past. But I have since seen delight.

If I have that dream again. Tossed deeply in depths of ennui’s despair bunkered from the outside transactional mercantile social world in the vast elegant room on des Champs-Élysées. But there is no way. I remember it so vividly. The music: incessant, repetitive. The opening strains of something like a Police song off of ‘Ghost in the Machine’. But it was not. ‘Twas more: Spiritual. Haunting. The armies on the field of battle. The field of the cloth of olde, perhaps. Black and white armies. Battle engaged and ensued as I looked from the hilltops above the field of the cloth of olde. Then, melodramatically, the armies changing colors so that it was impossible to know. Impossible to root.

But I made a determination then and there. A determination to change my life in oh so many ways. And though much karmic disaster – the blessings of this life! – were yet to ensue; to come hard and fast, accidents and incidents, some of a dangerous and reckless kernel of nature of the selfish whine of disregard that could cause the unintended consequences that might bring heavy condemnation and most certainly bring about the “Judgment” bound on earth – they are what they are: blessings and the karmic crucible lustration that is the point of this immeasurably infinitesimal small unidentifiable, unmarkable point of this life within the spiritual journey of eternal, infinite life.

In any case I made a determination then and there that commenced the process of the turning of the vast and clumsy ship mid-ocean. It took a while to take. But boy did it turn. And how!

I certainly developed the skill to write an impossibly long sentence and not have it fly away into nonsensical wreckage.

So no. There is no way. But I’m an open receptacle for the new dreams that are to be!

Let it be!

[take a sad song and make it better]