Imagine what it would be like to take your life's work, produce a written document that showed the good sense of your construction, only to turn it into a silent prayer, knowing that prayers are left unanswered all the time. (Some prayers you can never take back.) The spirit in such an offering is dangerous and seductive.
And yes, I am well aware my brain is still playing tricks on me. Slept 12 hours only to wake in a dream. I am still dreaming hours later. Ouch. And now that the story is over except for the living, I find it hard to understand how to take this show on the road without letting it kill me. So we give a banquet and the elite guests never arrive. But this buffet is on the web and google does not support the unadvertised. With food shelves we can redistribute the culinary wealth. But with the internet, if what you have to offer isn't immediately palatable to commercial appetites, it goes into that toilette of informational undertow. No ads, no play. Sorry, try not to feel bad, I don't. I just find it so strange that producing something meaningful always comes at such a horrible price.
Let's celebrate by building a metaphor from scratch. We all need love (#4). Love means risking pain. For some of us it is much easier to give than it is to receive. So we planted a "Tree of Love." The Love Tree is to give love and protection to all the children for inevitable times of hardship. Now although the Tree gives and receives love, it too is only mortal. Someone had to protect the Tree. The fruits are sweet and the blooms are splendid. But when it came time to plant the seeds of the tree, the children of the Tree no longer lived nearby. We moved into the cities where there are no trees allowed. People forgot about The Tree of Love planted for them. But the trees had a plan. As the trees were burned and skies filled with the smoke from the fossils of eons of growing, the seas melted, the skies boiled. And the trees moved back into the cities emptied of those peoples who forgot about their shared roots. Returned to the forests again, the fruits of the Tree were as many as the stars, which eventually started to shine again. The trees grow, the stars shine, every day is just another new metaphor.
