Thought Balloons

_ Who are these impostors?

_ They're all part of a dream-based reality; part of a thing-based nothing. You, my very good friend, are not to worry, for there will be trucks on the highway the day they all die; trucks bound for nowhere rolling down the road. Love-starved seekers suffering the pangs of birth, one and all... Who are these impostors? Well, my very good friend, who wants to know?

_ I was walking here today, this high winter day, and I was visited by a turkey buzzard in need of a meal. Perhaps if one of the other patrons were to take a nasty fall we could carry him, or her, out so my little friend might enjoy a bite, no?

_ What? Do you think you're in Paris? They do that sort of stuff in France. They - the French - consider  the bigger picture; we are rather self-centered, myopic. Ferocious bastards aren't they - turkey buzzards?

_ Thought balloons black-tipped in red coloring the sky so nice with blue plying the sky with scraps of tourists in their talons and beaks. They know when the meat is nicely putrefied; they have no need for a metal probe thermometer. They are the exalted forerunners of a race dedicated to the art of dying; they are the living, breathing fire, bringing death to life right in front of our eyes. I rarely see them alone.

_ Always in the company of their shadow, at the very least. I once watched a turkey buzzard administer a bit of a poke to a deer carcass that had been fermenting in the heat for several days. A shower of innards triumphed in escaping, via this precise poke, the rot underway; our intrepid feathered friend rejoiced. Their song is a harsh symphony, sung for the sake of the artist alone.

_ There are many forms of expression called art; there is only one witness.

_ Aplomb... it all comes down to one word.

_ Either my name is not 'Aplomb', or my dictionary is about six hundred thousand words too long. Howsaboy?

_ You come face to face with a hungry turkey buzzard and that, my friend, will sober you up; and I mean quick. I'm good. The veil separating me from reality is very thin today, almost gossamer-like.

_ I would say it might be somewhat more substantial than gossamer based on my observations; somewhat more substantial than gossamer based on my obversations, confrontations and conversations I've had with people when you are not in attendance.

_ The drivel of riff-raff... I'm good. Far-seeing comes to mind.

_ Does insanity run in your family?

_ Insanity? You mean poor health? Is that what you mean? The only sanity I know of, indeed the only health I know of, is the complete cellular, molecular, pre- and post-atomic realization of that immutable power which permeates and transcends every circumstance and beyond. Beyond the beyond. The sky in which the sky through which the turkey buzzards soars, is contained; through which she brings life to death? Beyond that; beyond the beyond of mind. We are a healthy lot.

_ Hmmm... Chai?

_ Chai.

_ Why are you looking at me like that?

_ Aplomb... it's not even a thought balloon.

                                                                             **********

... A dream-based reality subject to change. Change changing change - no stain-stick here.

... Beware of darkness

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