The Six Degrees

Who knows what will come next in our lives? In this perpetual abyss? How will we define ourselves in the end? With what argument will we meet our final judgement? By these six degrees? But by that sixth step, that sixth degree, will they truly know who you are and what you've accomplished? Will even the person at the second degree know of you, or will you live in their mind as a ghost, a mere instance in time of which a traveler passed through their lives?

When we get to the end, we want to be comforted; it's just human nature. However, we each know that there will be no score playing, no brigades of loved ones, lost and found through the years, eager to pass through the doorframe to your deathbed, no tearful, final goodbyes. So who wouldn't keep to themselves? If, at death, there is no momentous grandeur, why live life so free?

I, of course, respectfully disagree. "Why not?" should be the motto of a young hearts; "Live for the challenge" its agenda. Get to know your friend's friend, and his friend, and his. And maybe, just maybe, we as a world can shrink six down to five or four or three. So even when you lay dying, as somber as it may be, we can at least feel the comfort of those around us, more than just physically but in our young hearts.

This Old Revolution

A soul devoid of poetry, no simple rhyme to please the readers' eyes. Yet the words I so choose are conducted in a methodic, melodic manner. Only such talents retained by a preacher; but my choir is vast, vocal, vivacious, and vigilant against the virulent, volatile visage worn by the jailors of originality, art, and ingenuity.

So today, I say stand up! Escape the tantalizing, gold-plated box of a jail that we live in. Buy, barter, and bargain with the currency of creativity. Step outside into the richness of a rainstorm. Find music in the thunder, and art in the lightning. Release yourself, your shackles of society. Find that which is truly real. Trade an orgasm for an ocean tide. Trade beer for a beach. For the greatest art in the modern world is the real world for what it is.

Sit and admire this great art. Look out the windows towards the moutains, towards the moon, towards the mood that inspires originality, art, and ingenuity, the only key to the restraints keeping us inside the tantalizing, gold-plated box that soothes and comforts us. I urge you today, rid yourself of that. Endure the discomfort of originality, and encounter the road less traveled, and you will be of the innovators of imagination.