radical druid

Head Lines

Published on August 4, 2026

The truth is I’m not saying anything.
There’s no intelligent design behind these words,
how they morph into sentences, pages, and books;
it’s a false front. There’s nothing behind.

The truth is I don’t know anything.
About anything, really.
Anything that matters.

Not to me. There’s a LOT of stuff that apparently matters to me,
more than anything else in the world:
health, relationships, friendship, loyalty, decency.

But what’s that really worth, anyway? On paper?

If you pick away at the surface long enough
(and we all pick)
you’ll find what’s underneath
is all surface too.

Nothing doesn’t have an outline. It doesn’t have depth or breadth.
But it has everything else.

04 AUG 2026

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Shrinkage

Published on August 4, 2026

Every word I learn makes me want to say less.
There is no end to the ways to become smaller.
What good it to say a thing you know is true
when you can’t recognize reality?

Every sound I hear makes me want to stop singing.
There are too many voices in my head.
When your monkey mind is a troop of great apes
and you really dislike Charlton Heston.

Every sentence I speak cages me in its spaces.
One mind cannot process all these requests.
How does a system designed to manage a trickle
cope with an uncooperative flood?

04 AUG 2026

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There’s an idea in #DouglasHofstader’s #GodelEscherBach that there could be record produced that when played back, because it contained the frequencies to destroy the record player, would in fact destroy the player. So in essence it could only be heard by the machine, but that machine would self-immolate upon hearing the message.

We are all programmed to self-destruct. Because we are inferior, less than wholly divine, merely CREATED beings. Right? There is no way that something created can live forever. Nothing in the universe actually acts that way.

Except the universe as a whole. So the record destroys the physical manifestation, the separate selfness, the individual freedom independence idea. But the Player remains.

Because everything in the universe IS the universe.

How could it possibly self-destruct? It is beyond the “canon ‘gainst self-slaughter”.

If you’re still looking for a rule book, give up.

It’s not that kind of game.

04 AUGUST 2026

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07.30

Published on July 30, 2026

What is the dream that won’t, despite our efforts,
accept death as its final place of rest?

Who is the dreamer, if not you and not me,
conceiving this fantasy for us to live?

Where is the season that blows through eternity,
not simply ending as all summers do?

When will the silence of peace overtake us,
its whisper so deafening old men can hear?

How will you change it to suit you? You reckon
your requisition will alter an infinite plan?

Whence comes the question?
There is the answer.
Plain as the nose on the end of your face.

Remind yourself to be you, sometimes.

30 JUL 2026

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The Slip Stream

Published on July 30, 2026

I watch you slip away;
where do you go?
I can hear you softly singing,
but where from I do not know.

The world continues spinning;
day and night slip in and out.
The world’s incessant humming
masks its underlying doubt.

Where is there any substance,
when all is stripped away
and all is left is silence
where the lines and edges play.

I watch you slip away,
but you’re still here.
There is no other movement,
nothing near.

The world continues spinning,
birth and death both come and go.
There isn’t any secret to it.
You already know.

30 JUL 2026

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A Little While

Published on July 29, 2026

When somebody tells you they’ll make it worth your while, which “while” do they mean?

Is that like a done-while-you-wait kinda while or is it a once in a while, a while ago, or a while you wasn’t looking?

Chances are it’s not a just a chance less lucrative but certainly less morally ambivalent thing you might have been doing “while” you were doing whatever they asked you to do.

But who has time for all that?

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