So centered in the notion of right
That it's as obvious as falling down
Truth, the slippery siren,
Screaming from the shores while the waves
Crash down, falling to the sand
Collapse one upon the other, Brother
Your sister howls in the wind.
We fight the truth like an unending war
Yet surrendering to fact day after day
As the skin falls from our faces
The dripping ruthlessness of time
Descending on our bodies
Like the darkened sky above
The sun settling in the horizon.
Shadows grow so long before our eyes
Still we insist on seeing beyond the horizon
Into the darkness
Towards a place that makes no sense
All the silly science of hundreds of years
From planet earth and into that same dark space
The fumbling understanding towards ecstasy
Like two clumsy teenagers learning for the first time
How their bodies work
The only essential aspect being the awkwardness
The right being the wrong
The facts are only opinions
This is, in fact, not a fact.
Yet arguments persist. Meaning what, I'm not sure.
Except for several observations here from this third planet:
The rain does fall. Not always noticeably nor furiously, but the rain does eventually fall.
The rain does fall. Not always noticeably nor furiously, but the rain does eventually fall.
The Earth spins tirelessly, not like an automobile tire but like a tired child.
The Sun is a giant ball of incandescent gas, it is not alone, it has many siblings.
Space is more vast than any person can imagine. Can you conceive of it all?
The attempt itself proves the rule.
When you try to fit the infinite inside anything, you will fail.
The rules that we make should not be confused with science.
There are rules, facts of the solar systems
These are more concrete than any pithy human imagination
Where the whimsy of the earthbound organism is tied to its meaty wants
The universe does not bother with whimsy,
The vacuum of space, and the squishy, hydrated nature of our own bodies...
The vacuum of space, and the squishy, hydrated nature of our own bodies...
We are no match for such a ferocious certainty.
Imagine the absolute power of always being right.
But only a real fool could think I was talking about him.
I'm sure God believes in gods... or else what point is the imagination,
The spells and incantations that our words have woven
Into the sides of cave walls,
The carved faces of canvass in museums,
Painted craterous explosions in the dirt,
Twisted metal overtures to love through song.
We are an inconsistent bunch
This motley crue of socialization we call Humankind
The rules we make are simple and amendable
We change our minds to fit our needs
Because our needs, here at this little outpost in the milky way,
Are of constant reassessment -
Human comforts forcing us to ravage through our bedrock
To evaporate the gas of millennia
To evaporate the gas of millennia
To disturb our Mother one more time for warmth and security
We burn away the natural order.
As the tide is high we move on
Cars, trains, planes bustling through the absolute human need for innovation
Spewing forth our twisted view of the this universe
As if this speck of pebble is the center of such a place
That the nebulae splattering the cosmos
Dare to consider our silly little lives for one moment.
Our selfishness never falls to the ground
Even these words insist that they are significant
Unless I can admit that maybe they only matter to me.
But they don't - these words explore the screen
Not because I'm interested but because I believe other people should be.
As if the rules of time and gravity apply only as I wish them to
When I wish them to
Because I wish them to.
In the end that steady invisible stream of both time and gravity
Shall beat me, like they've beaten every other person on this planet
With those truths born to my own singular experience slaughtered
Because there was no truth at all, except that I am finite,
Briefly in this moment,
While truth lingers only in that eternal battle of matter and gravity
The ultimate truth necessarily being that this is all temporary.
