A Tribe of Strangers

For whoever is reading this writing I am writing it specifically for you. I know you, as you know me! 

First and foremost, we, none of us, are inevitable people. Our human birth is not our first, it is merely a unit within a process, a transformational one, from unease to order. 

We are, everyone, of us, born into this world as a renegade. A protester protesting our unlawful abduction without authority. Most of us, in fact, just about every one of us, submit in due course to the lore’s and the expectations of the community because we yearn to disappear into the woven fabric of acceptance. We default to the programed state of normalcy through the standardized mechanics of lawfulness, which in turn, creates the eternal dilemma of visibility. 

We become submissive, lawful, and robotic. In that state of nothingness from which we each and every one of us sprang, dwells the deafening balm of solitude, not aloneness, for therein is our natural center of replenishment. 

One among many. We each of us are seed remnant of that oasis, of yearning for completion, and to once again return. 

“Return where?”

“Return where you ask?”

“There, where my fingers are pointing!”