| 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 written 5-19-04 publication date 6-18-04 all rights reserved copyright jeff mcmahan Please respect copyright include authors name with copies. |