Reading My Tea Leaves

Storms inevitably roll into our lives. An astute captain knows when the time arrives to raise anchor, lower the sails, and ride out the storm.

“Into this house we’re born
Into this world we’re thrown
Like a dog without at bone
An Actor out on loan
Riders on the storm.” – the Doors

If you rise high enough, move beyond the undulating waves and imagine that you are the being spoketh of, you are the story, then you have the beginnings of an understanding. Ever evolving and growing, recognizing the illusion and how to maneuver through it. Man’s limited capacity of an optimally functioning imagination in this world is the enigma not many are ready to ride and revise. For to make man the almighty, he had to forget and learn how to awaken. Down the hatch goes my morning brew, down with the bluebloods and their traditional prepared stew and all that is left is the greatest story ever to be told, the one of revision. I’m starting with my reading, my story. I don’t question myself; I question everything around me.

Bottoms up.

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