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StarrDust: Of Journeys, and of Choice

Of Journeys, and of Choice

I set out upon a journey, each moment will I see the place I’ll go and what I’ll know and what awaits for me. I cannot know the elements of whence I shall arrive, but knowing this, in spite of this, the Spirit be my guide.

The elements that cast their shade upon my fateful lot, this path I know, birthed long ago, ’tis destiny, my lot. But not affirmed a fate defined by forces I not know ’tis but my dreams – my Soul’s desire – ’tis that, shall lead me Home.

Though Home may be an angry plea, a worry or despair, a nightingale, perhaps, or yea, my parrot, over there. A talisman of joy divine beckoned by angel calls, or wretched sorrow, deep within, that only meets a wall

of anguished cries and alibis, injustice that rages against my soul of everything I know to be true and decent and fair, for no other reason than self serving ego aggrandizement, my outrage of hatred and intolerance; the disgust of lies forcing me to swallow putrid ejaculation of violence and ignorance… of violence and ignorance of violence and ignorance

And the journey reroutes…

These moments, though they come and go, they form the ‘whom I am,’ a consequence of nothingness, a phantom ‘now and then.’ The only pow’r they’ve over me is that to which I give and there within this idea lies the Truth in which I live.

My mind, you see’s, a social feed, the stories come and go, be angered or inspired, what I’ll see is what I’ll know. The ‘miss-the-mark’ that is my sin ’tis not upon what I act but that on which my thoughts alight, ’tis that, and only that.

Thus, in choice, in this shall I Be, neither worry nor in fear, closer than my breath It is, as air, All Truth is near the power of my choice is here, it’s where my safety lies, a gentle breath shall bring me back to peace, where I reside

in gentle waves of choice and recognition, the stability of my mind, the song of my Soul, comforting me, reminding me, holding me, holding me, holding me… holding that little boy inside, telling him that these clouds come and they go, come and they go, and just like the social feed, an inspiring post is coming… an inspiring post is coming an inspiring post is coming

And the journey reroutes…

Just like that feed, I shall, indeed, remove these thoughts of lack evicted from my mind of Peace and Love, to bring me back to where my choice applied is only that which brings me joy, to see the effervescence of that little four year old boy –

they called him Ricky, that little boy, grandson of Dorothy and Jack, he only needs but close his eyes, to be transported back, this time as an adult to see that boy and lift him up and let him know this truth bestowed: ne’er empty shall be his cup.

For always this adult shall be beside him all the way to nurture, guide and reassure his confidence each day. To navigate the journeys through his life, and of his tack, to remind him of the need each day to delete those posts of lack

and to choose in each moment to “unfollow” those who know neither inspiration nor choice, courtesy nor kindness, not out of a sense of punishment or self-righteousness, but out of compassion, of knowing that only they can find their way, if they choose that journey… if they choose that journey if they choose that journey

And the journey reroutes…

So even when the night is dark and blame is what comes forth, the Self shall be the winds that blow that’ll reset you on your course. Gentle as these winds they be, they also be intense, remember this, remain at choice, when your choice is resistance.

To clarify, I shall imply, this verse does not address the political clime, and where we find ourselves in this fucking mess. But choice may be informed by what is lack or what is plus so choose the plus, the best of us, if resist you feel you must.

To say again, the choice of plus is pow’r that will arise, it’s complacency – so sad, you see, the Pharisees, so sad, so you see, the Sadducees, so sad you see, the Sad-You-See’s, so sad you see, it’s complacency that cannot see the current of our time… the complacency of mediocrity, the acceptance of this lack, you see,

we can either be informed by and act upon the energies of anger and frustration, or by the energies of love and mutual up-liftment but it is only in the allowing of the unfolding of the latter that will eventually silence the former, and not a continuity of perpetuating the former while expecting the results of the latter… while expecting the results of the latter while expecting the results of the latter

And the journey reroutes…

These thoughts of mine, they come and go, as I type them on this screen even as I know, I must, it’s only in between the words, the space, the space they make for your own thoughts to arise and you can give them space to breathe, in the silence of your sighs, you can give them space to breathe, in the silence of your sighs.

As the journey becomes your own…

It is there within the breath you breathe, you expand and you contract the ideas of the plus of you, of increase, or of lack. That little you, you know you knew, you’d always have their back is waiting on the adult of you to lift them out of lack.

To choose, indeed, that stream of feed you permit into your life of joy or of frustration, of victory or strife. The choice is yours, as well you know, the consequence shall be the contentment of your life, my friend, and of its quality.

The elements that cast their shade upon your fateful lot, This path you know, birthed long ago, ’tis destiny – your lot. But not affirmed a fate defined by forces you not know ’tis but your dreams – your Soul’s desire – ’tis that, shall lead you Home. ’tis but your dreams – your Soul’s desire – ’tis that, shall lead you Home.


Of Journeys, and of Choice

by RJ Starr

Parrot-loving student of existential phenomenology and its psychological implications upon the human experience.

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