Chaos

~ a poem

Change creates.

Form is defined by what man can reconcile from disorder
Progression is pronounced by this transformative pandemonium

In life, chaos is compulsory.
Just as we breathe, we subconsciously yearn for thoughts and actions to be made in the heat of conflicting forces borne of discord.

We empower ourselves past tragedy
We ascend through hell
We triumph over evil

Adversity and benevolence are borne from the same essential source —
the volatile nature of the universe.

Man pulls order out of chaos and waits for the applause. Notice is key, for without it, whatever has been retrieved becomes just another angle, an aspect, an attitude, an opinion. We assign value, not I.

Our supposed growth, however, is marked by competitive failure. In the boundless stretches of the universal arena, no ground has been covered at all. And no ground ever will be, from the perspective no one takes.

As we expand into boundless void, Man’s ambition is fed endlessly
This is what gives us our power.
the perfect illusion of human machination:
we try, ∴ we establish efficacy
we develop, ∴ we progress
we fail and encounter threats, ∴ we learn
we achieve, ∴ we believe we have created.

Ultimacy is the goal, and any step in that direction feeds our potency.
The reality is that nothing can ever really be changed by us before it is changed within us

We defy entropy by passing ourselves on. Existing beyond our time.
Through blood and through work — mindful creation.

Our very consciousness brandishes this madness like an apocalyptic admonition.
Man endeavors to discern the self,
the physical mind,
the soul.

Perhaps we know the impossibility of it all.

Perhaps this is why the universe expands.

In this regard, Man’s obstinance permits all we will ever know.

Born in the fires of adaptive wilderness,
Man
will
continue
changing to live ~

zzzchaos