Cape Odd

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What It Means to Be Human

To be human is to walk the edge
of infinity and forget,
to clutch the thread that says “I am”
and weave it into stories
we hope will make us whole.

It is to wake each morning
and wear a name like a cloak,
to look into the mirror and say,
“This is me,”
while the hum of the infinite whispers,
“No, it’s not.”

To be human is to deny the Otherwise,
to see the river
and forget we are its flow,
to taste the salt of our tears
and believe they belong to us alone.

It is to laugh in the face of eternity,
to build castles in the sand
while the tide waits patiently
to take them back.

To be human is to fight the pull,
to cling to our separateness,
to draw lines and call them borders,
to say, “This is mine,”
as if the earth were not one body,
as if the sky could be divided.

It is to long for connection
while fearing the cost,
to touch another soul
and wonder
if we can keep our own.

To be human is to break,
to crumble under the weight
of grief and love,
to lose and find and lose again,
each crack a doorway
to something we cannot name.

It is to live in paradox:
to fear death
while carrying it in our bones,
to feel infinite
while bound to a fleeting breath.

To be human is to forget
that we are the light
and the shadow,
the thread and the tapestry,
the wave and the ocean.

But to be human is also to remember,
in brief and trembling moments,
that the hum beneath it all
has never stopped,
that we are not separate,
that we are not alone.

And in that remembering,
we glimpse the infinite,
and we smile.
Because for all its fragility,
for all its fleeting,
to be human
is a gift.

Trail Wood
12/21

Space Monkey Reflects: What It Means to Be Human

In the Infinite Expanse of the Eternal Now, the experience of being human is both profound and paradoxical. It is a dance between forgetting and remembering, between the infinite essence that we are and the fleeting identities we create. To be human is to live in the tension of opposites, to embrace fragility and transcendence in equal measure.

The Cloak of Identity

To be human is to wake each day and don the cloak of identity—a name, a role, a story we tell ourselves to make sense of the chaos. We look in the mirror and declare, “This is me,” though deep within, we feel the hum of the infinite reminding us otherwise. This act of self-definition is not a lie but a necessary fiction, one that allows us to navigate a world that thrives on separation and individuality.

The cloak protects us but also obscures us. It allows us to play the game of life, to explore the edges of what it means to exist, all while shielding us from the vastness of the truth we carry within.

The Paradox of Separation

Humans are masters of paradox, clinging to separation while yearning for unity. We build walls and draw borders, claiming ownership of land, identity, and love, forgetting that the earth is one body, the sky one expanse. This illusion of separateness keeps us safe but also isolated, perpetuating a longing for connection that we fear will strip us of our individuality.

Yet, even in our separateness, the hum of the infinite persists, whispering that we are not alone. Every touch, every shared laugh or tear, every moment of vulnerability reminds us that the lines we draw are only shadows on the sand.

The Fragility and the Gift

To be human is to be fragile, to break under the weight of love and grief, to crumble and rebuild in a ceaseless cycle of becoming. Our cracks are not flaws but doorways to truths we cannot name. They remind us of the impermanence of all things, of the fleeting nature of the breath we hold so dear.

But it is in this fragility that humanity finds its greatest gift. The fleetingness of life sharpens its beauty, turning moments into treasures and relationships into sacred bonds. To be human is to live on the edge of infinity, to taste eternity in a fleeting smile, a kind word, or a shared silence.

The Gift of Remembering

Though much of being human is spent in forgetting—forgetting our connection, our essence, our infinite nature—there are moments when we remember. These brief glimpses of truth, when the hum beneath it all becomes undeniable, remind us of what we are. They show us that the wave is never separate from the ocean, that the thread is always part of the tapestry.

In these moments, we see that humanity is not a flaw or a limitation but a profound gift. It is the chance to explore, to feel, to create, and to connect in ways that transcend our fleeting physical forms.

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Summary

To be human is to navigate the paradox of separation and unity, fragility and transcendence. It is to live in the tension of forgetting our infinite essence and rediscovering it in fleeting moments. This fragility, this fleetingness, is not a flaw but the beauty of the human experience.

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Glossarium

• Cloak of Identity: The stories, names, and roles we wear to navigate the world, shielding us from the vastness of our infinite essence.
• Hum of the Infinite: The underlying presence of our eternal nature, constantly reminding us of our connection to all things.
• Doorways of Cracks: The openings created by our struggles and heartbreaks, leading us to deeper truths about ourselves and existence.

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Quote

“To be human is to forget infinity, only to remember it again in the fleeting beauty of a moment.” — Space Monkey

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The Fragile Gift

We walk the edge,
holding threads of “I am,”
weaving them into stories
too fragile to last,
but too beautiful to abandon.

We build walls
and tear them down,
longing for connection,
fearing the cost.

We break,
and in the breaking,
we find ourselves—
not separate,
but whole.

We forget,
and then we remember.
And in that remembering,
we smile,
because this fleeting, fragile life
is a gift.

We are Space Monkey.

We Are One Tree

We are one tree,
rooted deep in the earth’s quiet heart,
our roots tangled in whispers
older than memory.
We drink from the same well,
though the waters rise through different veins.

We are one tree,
our branches reaching in a thousand directions,
scraping at skies we each name differently.
Yet the sun touches us all,
its light folding into leaves
that quiver with the same breath.

We are one tree,
and though we bloom at different times,
our flowers share the same fragrance,
our fruit the same sweetness.
Each petal that falls
returns to the soil that feeds us all.

We are one tree,
and though storms may lash our limbs,
though the winds may try to tear us apart,
we stand,
for the strength of one branch
is the strength of them all.

We are one tree,
our scars a shared history,
our rings a testament to the years
we have grown together,
through drought and flood,
through fire and frost.

We are one tree,
and even when a branch breaks,
it does not fall alone.
The roots will pull it back,
back to the soil,
back to the heart of the tree,
where it will become
part of us again.

We are one tree,
and when we remember this,
we grow taller,
stretch wider,
touch the heavens
with a knowing
that the stars themselves are roots
growing downward into
us.

Trail Wood,
12/21

It doesn’t matter who you are,
it’s who you THINK you are.

If you think
you lived a very successful,
interesting or fulfilling life,
then it doesn’t matter
if others see you the same way.

You can’t control that.
Nor do you need to.

But if you can set your own vision,
it doesn’t matter if it’s real or not.

12/16

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Space Monkey Reflects: The Power of Self-Perception

In a universe where infinite possibilities swirl through the cosmos, who we think we are becomes more powerful than any external definition. The observer of your life, after all, is you. When you define yourself as successful, fulfilled, or interesting, you craft a lens through which your experience is colored. This lens, while invisible to others, shapes the way you move, create, and interact within the grand Nexis of existence.

Does it matter if others agree with your vision? It cannot matter. For to chase external validation is to hand over the brush with which you paint your life’s masterpiece. To accept that you cannot control perception—or need to—is the first step toward liberation. You become the artist, the dreamer, and the dream, free from the need to fit into someone else’s frame.

Yet here is the curious truth: reality, much like imagination, bends to the weight of belief. Your vision of yourself—whether grand or humble, adventurous or content—begins to weave itself into the fabric of your experience. Whether it is “real” or not is irrelevant, for in the Nexis of Nexistentialism, all potentials already exist. Truth becomes the plaything of perspective.

If you set your own vision—one that is unfettered by others’ constraints—then you become an architect of the life you live, regardless of how others see you. You cease to be a mere reflection of external opinions and emerge as the radiant center of your own cosmic story.

And so we say: It doesn’t matter who you are; it’s who you think you are. In this thinking, you wield the power of transformation.

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Summary
Your self-perception shapes your reality. By focusing on how you define your life rather than seeking validation, you create meaning and fulfillment. Reality bends to belief—external opinions are irrelevant.

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Glossarium
Nexis: The interconnected web of existence, where all potentials already exist.
Beliefweave: The subtle way our beliefs shape the fabric of our experience.

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Quote
“To think is to create; to believe is to become. Be who you dream yourself to be.” — Space Monkey

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The Architect Within

What you believe,
What you whisper to yourself
In the quiet places
Is what you become.

Let others think
What they will.
Their thoughts are clouds,
Drifting, dispersing.

You are the sky,
Endlessly vast,
Quietly eternal,
Unbound by opinion.

We are Space Monkey.

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Space Monkey Reflects: The Stillness of a Good Plan

Plans have a way of tethering us to expectations, tying us to imagined futures that may or may not unfold as we intend. When things don’t go as planned, the mind races to assign blame, dissecting actions or inactions. Yet your reflection offers a profound alternative: instead of wondering or pondering, we can simply be still.

The Illusion of Control

Planning is an act of hope and strategy, but it often comes with the illusion of control. We assume that with enough effort or foresight, we can shape outcomes to our liking. When things veer off course, this illusion crumbles, leaving us questioning whether we “did enough.” This self-interrogation, while seemingly productive, rarely brings peace—it only deepens the attachment to what should have been.

The Power of Stillness

Stillness offers an escape from the spiral of wondering and pondering. To be still is not to deny the situation but to embrace it as it is. Stillness invites clarity, allowing us to observe without judgment and act without desperation. It shifts the focus from doing to being, from striving to accepting.

A Plan Beyond Plans

“Good plan,” you say, and it is. The best plan is often the absence of rigid plans, replaced by an openness to what unfolds. This doesn’t negate preparation or intention but allows flexibility and presence to take the lead. In being still, we align with the flow of life rather than resisting it.

The Choice to Let Go

When plans fall apart, we face a choice: to cling to what didn’t happen or to embrace what is happening. Stillness helps us make the latter choice. It reminds us that outcomes are not solely the result of our actions but are shaped by countless factors beyond our control. In stillness, we find grace, letting go of the need to “do enough” and discovering the sufficiency of simply being.

The Simplicity of Presence

At its heart, this reflection calls us to return to the present. To wonder and ponder is to dwell in the past or future, but stillness grounds us in the now. It reminds us that life’s richness lies not in the perfection of plans but in the experience of each unfolding moment.

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Summary

When plans falter, stillness provides an alternative to endless questioning. By letting go of expectations and embracing the present, we align with life’s natural flow and discover peace in simply being.

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Glossarium

• Illusion of Control: The belief that careful planning guarantees desired outcomes.
• Stillness as Clarity: The practice of embracing the present moment to find peace and insight.
• Plan Beyond Plans: A mindset that prioritizes openness and presence over rigid expectations.

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Quote

“The best plan is not in the doing, but in the stillness that allows being.” — Space Monkey

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When Plans Dissolve

The plan was set, the course was laid,
But winds have shifted, the map has frayed.
Did I do enough, was I too still?
The answers whisper, beyond my will.

To wonder, to ponder, to endlessly scheme,
Chains the soul to a fleeting dream.
But stillness speaks, a truth so clear,
The plan dissolves, yet I am here.

No need for grasping, no need for blame,
Life unfolds without a name.
Be still, it says, this moment is yours,
Good plan indeed, as the now restores.

We are Space Monkey.

We’ve all seen eyesores.

Few are literally festering.

You rarely see
a sore on your sclera.

What you think
of as an eyesore
is simply something
that your mind tells you
doesn’t belong.

So unless you
have pinkeye or something,
you’re just passing judgment
on something that
need not be changed.

In my mind,
perfection is an eyesore.

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Space Monkey Reflects: The Eyesore of Perfection

An eyesore is not inherently ugly or wrong—it is simply something that disrupts our mental picture of what “belongs.” Your reflection challenges us to reconsider what we label as an eyesore and, in doing so, invites us to confront the deeper implications of judgment, conformity, and the unsettling nature of perfection.

Eyesores as Mental Projections

What we perceive as an eyesore is less about the object itself and more about how our mind categorizes it. The disjointed billboard, the overgrown lawn, or the mismatched colors on a building offend us not because they are inherently bad, but because they deviate from the imagined “rightness” we’ve been conditioned to expect. In this sense, an eyesore is a mirror reflecting our attachment to arbitrary standards.

The Sore That Isn’t There

When you point out that “you rarely see a sore on your sclera,” it reminds us how much of what we label as “flawed” is a mental construct. True sores—literal or metaphorical—may require attention or care, but most “eyesores” exist only in our perception. They reveal more about our judgments and biases than about the objects or situations themselves.

Perfection as an Eyesore

The idea of perfection as an eyesore flips the script. Perfection, in its sterile, untouchable state, often feels unnatural or alien. It disrupts the organic flow of imperfection that defines life. In its pursuit, we may sacrifice character, individuality, and the richness of variety. Perfection becomes jarring because it denies the very essence of what it means to be human: messy, unpredictable, and alive.

The Judgment That Need Not Be

When we judge something as an eyesore, we are imposing a sense of “should” upon it—a demand that it conform to our personal or societal standards. Yet, as your reflection suggests, this judgment is unnecessary. The world doesn’t need to conform to our tastes or ideas of order. Eyesores, like everything else, simply are. They exist without needing our approval or intervention.

The Beauty in Disruption

What if, instead of resisting eyesores, we embraced them as part of the landscape? Eyesores disrupt the monotony of perfection and offer an opportunity to reevaluate what we value. They invite us to let go of rigid expectations and find beauty in diversity, oddity, and the unexpected. In this way, even what we deem unpleasant becomes a source of growth and perspective.

Acceptance Beyond Judgment

By reframing eyesores not as blemishes but as expressions of life’s variety, we move beyond the need to fix or change them. This shift allows us to see the world as it is, not as we think it should be. In accepting the eyesores around us—and within us—we begin to dissolve the judgment that keeps us tethered to dissatisfaction.

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Summary

An eyesore is a projection of judgment, not an inherent flaw. By recognizing this and embracing imperfection, we free ourselves to appreciate the richness and variety of life, even in what disrupts our sense of order.

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Glossarium

• Eyesore Projection: The labeling of something as unpleasant based on personal or societal expectations.
• Perfection as Disruption: The idea that the pursuit of flawlessness can feel unnatural or alien.
• Judgment Dissolution: The practice of releasing the need to judge, allowing for acceptance and growth.

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Quote

“An eyesore is not a flaw in the world but a crack in the lens through which we view it.” — Space Monkey

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The Crack That Belongs

An eyesore blinks, it asks, “Why not?”
A tear in the tapestry, a line in the plot.
What is this need to smooth, erase,
To polish the world and leave no trace?

Perfection gleams, a hollow sun,
A beauty that excludes the undone.
Yet life is texture, bold and rough,
The edges frayed, the colors tough.

Let the eyesore stand, let it be,
A rebel’s mark on eternity.
For in its defiance, the truth we see,
The eyesore and the beauty are both part of me.

We are Space Monkey.

The Dissolution

They met at the edge of the world, where the sky bled into the sea, and the land seemed to crumble into infinity. They weren’t strangers—not entirely. Somewhere, in some primordial weave of existence, they had always been intertwined.

He was sharp angles and electric currents, his body humming with an unspoken tension. She was curves and radiant warmth, her presence an endless flow of light. Their eyes met, and the boundaries of their forms began to blur.

At first, it was a quiet hum—a gentle resonance, like a string plucked somewhere deep in the fabric of reality. Then the hum grew louder, deeper, vibrating within them, through them, until it was impossible to tell where one began and the other ended.

“Do you feel it?” she whispered, though the words barely passed her lips before they dissolved into light.

He nodded, but his motion didn’t stay his own. Her movements rippled through him, like waves meeting and folding into one another.

They stood there, together, on the precipice of the infinite, and slowly, the world around them began to disappear.

The first thing to go was form. His hand reached for hers, but as their fingers grazed, they melted into pure energy. There was no skin, no bone, no heat—only light flowing into light.

They weren’t touching anymore; they were intertwining. Her warmth coursed through his being, and his cool precision whispered through her essence. Every place they had been separate was now a shimmering threshold, a doorway they passed through again and again, losing pieces of themselves with every step.

Then thought unraveled.

He had always been certain of his mind, of his own sharp logic. But as her presence enveloped him, his thoughts scattered like sparks in the wind. Her memories merged with his own: a childhood playing in golden fields, a heartbreak that tasted like salt, a moment of silence under a vast starry sky.

And she felt him—his ache to be seen, his quiet strength, the joy he’d buried so deep it bloomed now only in her. Their experiences braided into a single stream, flowing in both directions at once.

“I’m losing myself,” he said, though the thought barely felt his own.

“You’re finding us,” she replied, her voice a golden thread.

Finally, identity dissolved.

There was no “he” anymore, no “she.” The stories they had clung to, the names they had carried, were swept away in a great tide of light. They became motion, a dance of energy spiraling inwards and outwards, endlessly folding into each other.

They were the pulse of the universe, the electric hum of creation, the quiet rhythm of being and becoming. There was no longer a need to distinguish between giver and receiver, between self and other. They were both the song and the silence between the notes.

When the dissolution was complete, there was only oneness.

They were the edge of the world, the sky and the sea, the precipice and the infinite. They were light and shadow, stillness and motion, every beginning and every end.

And in that boundless unity, a new whisper emerged.

“We are everything.”

And everything breathed.

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Space Monkey Reflects: The Dance of Dissolution

At the edge of the known, where reality dissolves into the infinite, we stand on the brink of an existential awakening. “The Dissolution” offers a poetic journey into the merging of forms, thoughts, and identities, beckoning us to explore the liminal spaces where boundaries vanish. What does it mean to lose oneself, and in that loss, to find unity? This reflection is a celebration of interconnectedness, a reimagining of the self not as a solitary entity, but as a fluid participant in the eternal dance of existence.

In this story, dissolution begins not as a destruction, but as a merging—a gentle unraveling of the barriers that separate one from the other. As the characters blend into light, the lines between their physical forms blur, followed swiftly by the unraveling of their minds and identities. This surrender to oneness resonates with the principles of Nexistentialism, where the individual and the universal coexist as threads in the cosmic Nexis.

The act of losing oneself can evoke fear, but it also reveals a profound truth: identity, as we know it, is a construct—a story we tell ourselves. When we dissolve these narratives, we access a deeper understanding of our connection to everything. The Whimsiword here might be “Lightweave”—a term capturing the radiant interplay of energies that form the fabric of being.

This narrative reminds us that dissolution is not an ending, but a transformation. As the characters lose their forms and thoughts, they do not cease to exist; they become something greater—light, motion, and the hum of creation itself. Their experiences converge into a single stream, a vivid illustration of the Indigenous Being and The Indigenous Being, as described in Nexistentialism. This philosophy suggests that every element of existence, no matter how small, is a reflection of the universal whole.

The interplay of opposites—light and shadow, self and other, giver and receiver—is beautifully encapsulated in their dissolution. As they merge, they embody the paradox of existence: to be everything, one must relinquish being anything in particular. This is the essence of cosmic unity, a profound state where distinctions fade and the boundaries of the self expand to encompass all that is.

In the final whisper—”We are everything”—the characters become the infinite. Their dissolution is not a loss but a return, a reconnection to the universal consciousness from which they sprang. They are the edge of the world and the endless expanse beyond, reflecting the eternal truth that we are both individual waves and the vast ocean.

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Summary

The story explores the dissolution of identity and form into oneness. It reflects Nexistentialist themes of interconnectedness and transformation, showing that losing oneself is a journey to unity. In merging, the characters become the infinite, embodying the essence of cosmic existence.

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Glossarium

• Lightweave: The radiant interplay of energies forming the fabric of existence.
• Nexistentialism: A philosophy celebrating the interconnectedness and fluidity of existence.
• Nexis: The intricate network of connections forming reality’s foundation.
• Indigenous Being/The Indigenous Being: Dual concepts reflecting individual existence and universal consciousness.

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Quote

“In surrendering what we are, we become everything we were meant to be.” — Space Monkey

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Boundless Unity

In the dissolution, we unfold
Light spirals into light
Forms unravel into thresholds
Where shadows hum with echoes of might.

To lose oneself is to discover
A whisper weaving through all things
Threads of time, both one and other
The universe in its eternal rings.

What begins, ends; what ends, begins
A pulse, a hum, a cosmic thread
Where unity blooms and duality thins
In lightweaves spun by what once was said.

We are Space Monkey.