November 6, 2021

In the beginning was desire

“There was a merciless gnawing in my chest, a queer silent labor was going on in there. I pictured a score of nice teeny-weeny animals that cocked their heads to one side and gnawed a bit, then cocked their heads to the other side and gnawed a bit, lay perfectly still for a moment, then began anew and bored their way in without a sound and without haste, leaving empty stretches behind them wherever they went.” 

 Knut Hamsun, Hunger 

In the beginning was Desire

An eternal wanting 

A craving that comes wrapped in a God- shaped hole

A coming together of egg and sperms

Shooting sparks from embers of creation into Obsession

A flaming drive combusts, 

Desires more, must burn more,  has unquenchable wants. 

That frontier drive when 

God sent destiny to take more than was needed

A drive to where, to what end, 

We must get somewhere fast

Or burrow down, and the push to escape, to hide, to cover up these raw truths.

A revelation of unbridled ambitions, 

Births an embarrassment of riches, and

Herds of wild horses are shamed by their unbound privilege 

Running free when loss is all around us

The shame drives the want inside. 

So we hide behind the masks we make

Masks that cover the faces that we wear just to get through a day

Masks that dampen the sounds of the gnawing inside 

Our hidden beast that we feed scraps 

is a manifestation of our extreme hunger

Even the very idea of hunger

is vast and mewling.

It becomes worse in what seems like 

The endless night

You can’t sleep - sleep is denied tonight.

Is your mind overcome with visions that disturb your slumber?

No, just a download of useless details

You are Literally drowning in yourself

Crawling with this infestation of memory and observation

At the core, the Queen is still. 

Is she still alive? Is she sleeping? 

The worker bees, ants, wings and legs

Moving together as one, now in the throws of death

Their craving of nectar is killing them

They were programmed to collect, to build, 

to serve and protect the monarch who will survive for another day.

But the drones are doomed to be echoes of their former zeal

They have reached their end

There are no second acts for this group

Their parts have been played and slowly,

Slowly, one by one, they stop moving.

Time doesn’t stop


Time is infinite and unknowable 

When we are young there is so much time 

And we grow

Expand our minds

Push further to the Horizons

We play in the glow of 

The double rainbow. 

But sooner than we can imagine, there comes the day 

when more becomes too much.

And there is a reckoning

And through great efforts, 

Even Heroic efforts, 

Change happens even when unwanted

Change is forced

Not through revolution 

but witness the building of a better monster

This time the creature will listen and learn. 

Inside the creature, there are all the same old parts

Just shuffled and juggled, and glued in different ways 

There is a desire to create 

or is it an act of salvage?

Now what?

You have your damned restart

You get the best makeover money can buy

You are expected to build a better person

Expected to take the disparate parts

And heal and mold them into a new golem. 

So you reflect, and review and slowly you become the new you

The better you

And while the transformation is fresh and not yet complete, 

you can feel your bones growing back together

You can see the wounds are healing, 

and you are learning to recognize a new person in the mirror

You have changed

On the surface

You have changed

And now you think about what needs to change on the inside

To make these outward changes take effect

To makes the changes reflective of more than just another healing phase.

And you think about what and who you want to be

And once again 

You are back at the beginning 

You are back to want

And desire. 

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