Life is wasted on the living.

Have you ever noticed this?  That the Living spend their days going from one extreme entanglement to another, non-stop, day in day out.  Without fail, the living move from circumstance to circumstance almost completely oblivious to the history that lies around them at every turn.  Completely insensate to the complexities of the depth of then that exists in the now; blind to the possibilities that have occurred before, and will occur again, even in the right now as far as it can be measured.

I've said it before and I'll say it again, probably without much in the way of provocation or preamble.   The Living just don't know how good they have it.  One day on top of the world, then the next at the bottom of the heap, eviscerated by an odd happenstance that they allow to defeat them.  All of this energy, if it could be harnessed, could probably propel the human species to the stars and beyond; and yet, it goes wasted, spent upon the ground of the wanton woe and dischord.

Look around, smell the worms crawling through the ground, see the butterflies dangling by their short and curlies, feel the electricity of atomic tensions extended to the capacity of their tautness, taste the virtual reality that exists right beneath your fingertips.  There is Life spinning through its journey throughout the exigencies of time, both back and forward.  There is no time like the then, that is now. 

Technically speaking, I believe that the Living lack the ability to plus themselves or to minus themselves from the situations that arise.  They allow events to happen to them, they allow the things that permeate their lives to control their wants and needs, their directions in their journey.  Each day is one that comes, and then passes, with only the fluids that they find in their glasses, either full or empty, in whole or in part as defined by the way in which they look upon that moment.

Each moment is a string, one that is connected to every other.  Each choice is the sweat that beads off of each string, each node, each busy little beaver of possibility that could blossom or be killed by that moment.  It's a sequence of possibilities that could be bear witness to the ascension to greatness; or a catastrophic collision of disharmony that wipes clean the thought patterns of chaos and order that comprise the sum of a being.

Wrapped within the fullness of each being that resides upon this mud ball, there is a spark of positive energy and a hole that creates negative energy.  Balance, is a game, a tricky one; one which needs to be both watched carefully and nurtured with ardent desire.  One can either protect that spark of creative energy, exercise it, expand it, welcome it to other sparks of productive energy; or one can let itself be extinguished, feeding the never ending, never satisfied black hole of negative energy that exists within all.

It's a choice.

It's all, just a choice, one that, with sufficient review and gut level response, should be pretty straightforward and clear.  If you apply yourself to enterprises that produce positive results, then you will be rewarded.  It may be as simple as a "Thank you" or a smile, but is that not enough?  Is more than that required?  How odd.

There is only so much time and so much of it has already been wasted.  I sit here in my high castle and gaze down upon the Living and their works, and I shake my head.  I have faith that the potential for greatness lies within the hearts of each individual, and yet fear that the darkness of fear and loathing will win out in the end. 

I expend my energies, both here and else wise, in the hopes that by doing so, I can show a better path.  One in which Life is not wasted.  I have begun, by crafting a plan; a devious one.  In one view, it will be seen as the culmination of all things positive, something desirable by many, if not by all; in another, it will be the end of all Life, and the overwhelming domination of the damned upon the Earth.

Many will not understand the intricacies of this plan and, truth be told, that is not a requirement.  This plan, for those of you who care, is encompassing.  There will be change descending upon the Living.  Some of it will be desirable, some of it not so much.  The survival of the Living depends wholly upon whether or not they can pay attention and pull their socks up to meet the challenge.  Life, will not go quietly into the Dark.  And why would anyone, especially and including myself, want that to be the case?  An easy game, is not one that has value or merit.

I've made mention in the past, of the Empire that I seek to build.  I've commented upon the things that comprise the Living's chances upon the tournament that is coming about via the Apocalypse.  I've even hinted at strategies that might assist a good many of the Living to pull through that hellstream of woe.  I do not do this lightly; I do not do this with any degree of rancor. 

I truly want the Living to find a means to survive the coming storm; however, I have doubts as to the strengths of their convictions.  I would like to believe that at some indefinable moment, the catastrophic collision of circumstances and events will combine in some explosive manner to gestalt a stable and sustainable manner of social beast that might just create the future.