Looking into the past.. I see me.. but not.  I see what I was.. coupled with
who everyone else wanted me to be.  I keep looking back.. and wonder, "Who am
I really supposed to be?  Is there a person that I would be best being..?  Or
are there many different yet equal roads to my being good?"

I look at that last statement.. and think of what Jesus said.... about how
great the way to destruction is.. but how narrow and strait the way to
eternal life is.  I look at the notion of little foxes spoiling the vine...
so I know that it takes so little to start a snowball of entropy.. that
quickly turns into an avalanche.  It's a wonder.. all of it.

Life is.. different.  Life is more than puzzling.. less than understandable.
Life is quiet, yet loud.  It is truthful, yet full of lies.  It brings such
powerful triumphs.. and such devastating defeats -- often within the same
breath.

I know I could try writing out words that many people would want to hear...
but what good would they really do?  Is it really worth pleasing everyone?
Is it really worth putting on a faceless charicature mask, just to make most
people temporarily happy?  You have answers... so do you.  You all have your
answers.... so which one is right?

I can't begin to accept that all truths are true.  I can't start running
after the applause of the many, if it destroys the few.  Oh many people like
that road... but hate it.  It calls to them with whispers of bliss.. all the
while stealing their very lifebreath.

Pleasure.  It calls.. it binds.. it breaks.. it destroys.. it mitigates.. it
attacks.. it holds captive.. It grows.. it wanes.. It changes shape...
changes flavor.. changes color... but it's still just pleasure.  What good is
pleasure for the point of itself?  What good is life, for the point of
living.. or death for the point of dying?

Words.  Words of The One... words of man.  They do not well coincide.. for
the footsteps of the latter.  Though many uplift such words as Words.. or
even truths as True.

Across our expanse.... many lights, many wishes, many dreams... all coming
together in a stream of consciousness.. all growing into one voice.. daring
to drown out The One.  We will all be sorry.

A voice.  Must it cadence?  Must it rhyme?  Must it jive?  Do not the great
voices pierce through darkness with blinding sight?  Do not our hearts all
crave the light?  But less light means less responsibility.  less truth means
less trouble.  less fighting means less difficulty.  The line.

The line keeps going.
The line keeps going.
The line keeps going.           People try to stop it.
The line keeps going.        Others try to change it.
The line keeps going.         Some even worship it.
The line keeps going.

The line keeps going.