Navigating Solutions and Darkness

It is a well-known established fact throughout the many-dimensional worlds of the multiverse that most really great discoveries are owed to one brief moment of inspiration.

You found the things that make a man?" "Yes!" "How did you find out what they were?" The Wintersmith proudly told her about the children, while Tiffany breathed carefully, forcing herself to relax. His logic was very…logical. After all, if a carrot and two pieces of coal can make a heap of snow a snowman, then a big bucket of salts and gases and metal should certainly make him a human. It made…sense. At least, sense to the Wintersmith. "But, you see, you need to know the whole song," said Tiffany. "It is mostly only about what humans are made of. It isn't about what humans are." "There were some things that I could not find," said the Wintersmith. "They made no sense. They had no substance." "Yes," said Tiffany, nodding sadly. "The last three lines, I expect, which are the whole point. I'm really sorry about that." "But I will find them," said the Wintersmith. "I will!" ...

At home in a bubble room  Made of broken faces and dying voices  Safe, unharmed, walking the knife's edge  Balancing on a single foot  Blade digging deep  Slipping on the blood/ Holding on  No, I tell a lie The knife lies buried in my abdomen The bubbles fall red-tinged From the whispers of my lips  Don't flirt with danger  But danger is none but folks  Normal/ Passing me on the street  Folks I reach out to touch Eyes wide in disbelief  My fingers pass right through them  My words float past their eyes  I am impossible/ We We are impossible and know it  How can deserving live with the nonexistent? How can a scream change the world  When it dies on its way to my throat  I hunger for your false words  They don't understand why a lie  Would be worth more than nothingness  I hunger for everything that cannot be mine  I weep for what does not exist  I r...

Photo by  Katarzyna Modrzejewska  from  Pexels Rather than waste its time on hateful bigotry and petty violence, if only mankind devoted its time and energy to solving the more difficult problems of the soul. Such as how to handle and process rejection in a sane and rational manner. There are few on earth who haven't experienced the sting of feeling unwanted. It may be a passing pain, quickly overtaken by better emotions, or it may be a dreadful burden that weighs on the soul for decades. But no human is universally accepted - we are all disliked by someone or the other. Or perhaps not liked as much as we would prefer.  I have long bemoaned the despicable practice of turning on the one that rejected you, armed with insults and fury - a practice which has, as part of it, the concept of the friendzone. A section of society that seems to consist overwhelmingly of men attack viciously the objects of their affections once they have been turned down by them...