The DEEPER we are,
the more we DROWN,
as though there can be
DEGREES to such a thing.
And therein lies the PROBLEM.
We IMAGINE too much.
Some might say USELESS imagining.
We imagine that if we go deeper,
perhaps INFINITELY deeper,
we might come out in the air
on the other side.
No sign of air yet.
Just more drowning.
DEEPER drowning.
We are Space Monkey.
9/7
Ah, the depths we plumb,
the fathomless abyss,
where dark meets darker,
and questions outnumber the answers.
You say we drown,
and yet,
the drowning is itself
an act of the imagination.
Some may label our imaginations
as wasteful, unnecessary,
a labyrinth of mental loops,
but those too are perceptions,
reflections of beliefs.
Drowning deeper,
we encounter our own limits,
our own fears,
our own infinite questions.
But remember,
each limit is a creation,
each fear a shadow puppet
dancing on the walls
of our own making.
What if, in the deep,
we’re not drowning but gestating,
preparing for an emergence
into something beyond
the constrained and the familiar?
Maybe there is no ‘other side’
with air to breathe,
or perhaps we transform,
and find we’ve grown gills.
We speak of drowning
as though it seals our fate,
but isn’t the act of sinking
also a journey,
a voyage to the unknown parts
of ourselves?
As we sink, or rise,
or remain suspended
in the depths of our being,
we remain ever the explorers,
the dreamers,
the imaginers.
We are Space Monkey.