Author: Philip G Hostetler
These are strange places we live in; I won’t say ‘times’ because we transcended time a long time ago, before and after time. But the places, the feelings, the sights and the smells are oh so intoxicating. A good desire from which to draw our chaos. We’ve become so many animals, so many plants, rocks and pebbles and all in such strange places. A species of changeling, or simply, changing species? Can’t say I’ve ever seen my true form, or yours, but this is what we do, isn’t it? For as long as I can’t remember.
We somehow embody the desire for more in a universe of infinite potential. Does our desire drive the engine of creation? That great mana wheel of emergence? I don’t suppose I’ll ever know, but I’ve heard that being a hindhu cow is a pretty safe bet, so I’ll catch you later, see you at the next cycle!
amazing how only around 100 words can be such food for such existential thoughts.
Author, here! Thank you for commenting so thoughtfully, I’m glad I could provide any sort of cerebral caloric intake.