|What It, Was; What It, is; What It, Will Be
|Once upon a time, in a place we call the world, an entity was being
cast out from the other. Long he laboured to remain with the other, to
what he knew. The more he struggled to remain with the other, the
more the forces to expel him from the other grew. Finally after a
supreme effort on the behalf of both, he felt himself shift, and he felt
himself propelled in a direction, of which, he knew not. Coming forth
from the other, the mother of creation, he became manifest in creation.
His first act was to pull from his belly, drawing in, something strange,
of what, he knew not, expanding his lungs with, what, he knew not. His
next act was to push from his belly, expelling, what, he knew not, and
with It, there came a piercing cry of Anguish, for he realized, he was
no longer with the Other, and he did not know, What It Was.
He thought, what is this, that which was dark, and now, something
new, bright, white. Sounds came to him, different from the Other. Time
went on, he grew larger, he began to expand to the limits of his
extremities, touching, kicking, flailing. He began to remember. The
whiteness began to form into familiar shapes. Sounds of voices,
Soothing. Smells, Warmth, Cold. He remembered these things. Time
continued to go on. He began to question, What It Was. The voices took
on meaning. They told him, What It Was; he'd touch his Toe's, they told
him, What It Was; he'd touch his Nose, They told him, What It Was;
he'd touch his Clothes, they told him, What It Was. When he
remembered these things, He would think about, What It Was. They
always told Him, and he always believed them, they always had an
answer for, What It Was.
He grew older, his sight grew keen, looking for, What It Was. His ears
listened to All, telling him, What It Was. He began to rationalize about,
What It Was. They would tell him, What It Was; and he would think,
that, let what they told him about, What It Was, was not what he was;
what they told him about, What It Was, was not what they was (or
were). How could this be? If, What It Was, was not what he was (or is)
and not what they was (or were) just what was It? This confused him
and he continued to wonder about, What it Was.
As he grew older, he would go looking for, What It Was. He would
look under logs, for, What It Was, He would look in clogs, for, What It
Was. His searching took him far and wide, but he could never find,
What It Was. He despaired of ever finding, What It Was. He grew
Despondent and Apathetic. When they would tell him, What It Was, he
would snarl at them and curse them. He grew contemptuous of them,
they did not know, how could they know, he quit listening to them, and
they quit telling him, What It Was. He started to (A)muse himself with
other pursuits. They beckoned to him, and he followed them, taking
him away from, What It Was. The more he pursued them, the more they
would (A)muse him. He would (A)muse himself for Hours, Days,
Weeks, Months, Years; always taking him further and further away
from, What it Was. Then one day, after (A)musing himself for hours, it
stopped and he was no longer (A)mused; and he knew he would never
be able to be (A)mused again. And he was alone, where, he knew not.
They, were no longer there, to tell him, What It Was. He laid down, and
pulled his knees to his chest, he clasped his hands over his head, he
shivered, for he was cold and terrified. He pushed down on his belly,
and expelled, and what came out was a piercing cry of Anguish, for he
did not know, What It Was, he did not know, anything. He wanted to
die. After a great length of time peace and warmth descended on him.
he looked up and he saw, What It Was, just for a moment, the barest
instance of time. But he got up, and, began to walk.
He is old now. His sight has grown keen again, his visions keep him
searching. His ears hunger for the Voices, their words are as music to
his ears. Because he now realizes, that, let they are like him, and he is
like them. He is no longer concerned, when they tell him, What It Was
(or is); and it is not like what he was (or is), and it is not like what
they was (or were). Because he now realizes that every thing he sees,
every thing he hears, is a part of, What It Was (or is) and so, adds to
his knowledge of, What It Was (or is).
He is very old now. His mind is full of knowledge. His Visions are
clear and bright. He tells himself he is very close to knowing, What It
Was (or is). He tells himself, one more sight, one more voice, one more
word, and he would know. He looks, and sees that Sight, he listens, and
he hears that Word. He feels himself shift, propelling him into, what,
he knows not.
Now he knows, What It Was (and is), and what it is (and was), was
Him, and no Other.
Once upon a Time, there was (and is) this Entity.
Jeffrey C McMahan
publication date 6-18-04 all rights reserved
copyright jeff mcmahan
Please respect copyright include authors name with copies.