The State

Thanks again to everyone who has started on this journey with us. The road is narrow so we’re all experiencing some space issues, but we’re working hard on fixing that. It might be possible to widen the road up ahead. Hopefully that will give us the much needed push to continue in a forward trajectory. I know many of you favor the path aft, but we really should stick together where we can. The wolves seem to be afraid of numbers. I wish we knew exactly of which of the numbers they were afraid. That would make me feel much more at rest while I’m arranging the daily scoreboard. Walk with me awhile, while I tell you of what truly befuddles me. You have surely seen the evidence of this already, but I will spell it out plainly. Just in case you haven’t noticed I don’t want you to feel inferior. Pardon my perturbance, I cannot stand another minute of this foolishness. The machines we have employed are broken. Plain and simple. We do not cease oiling them, polishing them, cranking them until our arms are out of socket. But they do not work. When they do work, they don’t do what we want them to do. The methods are madness. Why do we depend so much on these contraptions? It’s because we’re too afraid to start over. I was told to never give up so I understand. I do not , however, believe in hitching my carriage to a dying horse. At some point you have to bury it (or leave it to rot if it offended you so greatly) and find a new horse! Most of us traditionally believe there is one right way to do things and we try forever to understand how. I am of the mind that there are an infinite way to do things,  and also that none of them are “right.” I take that back. That may have been a rash thing to say. I hope that you can see my meaning without focusing too closely on my words. One of the last things I want to do is offend you.  I don’t want to be the horse you end up burying before my time has come. Although, we both know you have buried a great many number of horses who were better than me. I have just found a lovely freedom in riding my carriage to wherever it may take me without keeping my eyes glued to the tale of the horse pulling me. Perhaps I just have stared at it longer than you have and seen such horrible things come from that area, that the magical whooshing of the tail back and forth have lost some of the original intrigue. Bury the horse, ride the horse, slay the horse, do what you will. But I will focus on riding this narrow, ever-widening road.


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