Just as before, there is power in peace, there is chaos in hatred.
And power, without the peace, is a restless mind.
Two arms reach forward, to reach for froward. It’s like reaching for the arms of others, and using them for the arms of others;
it’s like using other people’s legs, for other people’s legs;
it’s like thinking with other people’s thoughts, for other people’s thoughts-
and none of them all have power, because they’re all but one mind. And is restless-
this is what restlessness will look like, if it were the face of a man.
For a man, to look for a woman, and a new life with her;
it’s face will look like a child, lost in a downtown land, searching for his lost mother;
the worry on his face, will be what it looks like in physical form, and the joy of that child finding her, will be what his success looks like, and the horror, of never seeing her again;
will be what divorcing her will look like, if it were all a tangible face.
A woman looking for a mate;
will look like a fox looking for a new home, in physical form-
the bear traps, will be what people who look devour her destiny; will be what her enemies look like in physical form.
A son that doesn’t listen at all, not one bit;
will look like a child, with a featureless face, but be destructive, and still possess speech, in physical form-
The clouds will look like a mute child; in physical form, for they speak not, but still have life. They are naive, and yet important. The skies will look like this, because they are always born over and over again, so they are young, and they are eager to learn. The blueish portion of the sky, will be their mother, she is old, stubborn, and fickle;
but her voice is a teen’s. A teen, because of it’s nature to change form, and spread influence among others like it, and it’s ignorance to understand the impact of it’s actions. This is why, weather, will never be able to be controlled…
A hurricane, will look like an angry, mindless teen, that is inhuman, in physical form;
this is because they feel, they are passionate, but they do not truly understand why.
A dying old tree will have the voice of an old man, asking for help; if it had audio. This is because, like it’s appearance, it is old. It will speak often, have a weak, dying voice, and only ask for what it needs. It will not understand why, but it will understand why it doesn’t receive it. And both when it goes dormant, and when it dies. So does their voice, they will make no more sound.
A toy or a child’s plaything, will have the same happy voice as the child that plays with it…Even if it is old, decrepit, and broken;
it will still wish to be played with. But it will be angered, every time a child stops playing with it. Until somebody returns again to play with it.
A computer, if a living mortal formed creature, would be as smart and intuitive as it’s owner, but just as ignorant as they are as well. This is because it has charisma, it knows how to talk to them, but just like them;
it only knows, the answers that their owner’s already know.
A pencil’s soul is arrogant, but listens to who wields it. This is because it needs you to use it.
But doesn’t require you, to understand it.
A shoe will be like a kid, as well. It wants to be used, but never misused. It will never understand why you out grow it-
the more you use it, the less it wants you to. When the sole has a hole in it, it will have died. There will be no more voice in it to hear, even if there were one.
If the moon were to speak, it would ask many unending questions; they would be about intangible things;
starlight, distance, life, death, lifesource, and many other things, mankind hasn’t even made up words for. This is why her face is enough, and she is made mute on purpose;
not all things need to speak, sometimes the beauty of their presence, is just enough to redeem their story.
Copyright September 15, 2017