Volcano's

 I'm no Stephen King. But when I get inspired: I think of things unique to the human condition. So I write fictional style inquires. This is about how my wisdom - or search for it - manifests as an examination of what where imagination takes real life for me, personally.

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I'm going to buy myself a volcano. Call it Marco. The metaphor? For everyone that wants to jump in, will come out alive. (But you won't take the leap in it.) Which as trivial as fear is - it is never out of the question, I guess.

My point here happens that the metaphor applies to a condition.

We place heads together. Our only ritual. Much like recording everything I think as a meditation for it. Words are feelings. Feelings are rituals. We just don't realize, or fail not to think of things in such manners of the imagination.

If I fail to inspire you. (Which is my only intent.)

The truth is not found in debating the question of life or death if faced with.

The test of real wisdom, is found in normally forsaking it.

Wisdom comes as it goes. It's (wisdom) always tested in everything you do. You are its target.

What doesn't kill you without a thought of where you end up is the answer to it. So I lead with logic and my feelings. Where my intensity is logically transformed from this place to the next. What I see, from the shape of the volcano is a matter of wisdom looking toward a bottomless pit of agony. Where things are on the surface. And are met with me. Afraid. Afraid to be exposed for what he is.

Truly, truly - terrifying a concept. Wisdom is the volcano. Not found in waiting for it. . . to erupt. The volcano ends up being where wisdom is a question of it being worth the wait. The wait for a portrait of yourself faced with the idea. The idea that wisdom possesses you. Only you - never know?

You never know what the fucking answers are.
Just an empty hollow space of nothing.

It seems like an implausible story to consider.
But the moral of the whole thing, is to consider where you are - even when you are not aware of the things that consider you more of an idea. Think about yourself as an idea of outside a cave that swallowed you and that every part of the idea whether it became something, or submerged someplace else?

That's wisdom working for you. It is (truth) in your dreams while still awake... for what tells time in psychological ways. You imagine sleep, instead of actually sleeping, all you dream of while awake is a volume of abundance and talk about your feelings without thinking that you had.

These words for words are the smaller version of it all.

- Marco