I have so many "balls up in the air" these days, the now-desperate search for employment (we might be able to squeeze 3 months of survival out of the few remaining reserves before having to do something drastic like take a mortgage on the house), plus trying to coax Eschaton into a "self-maintaining" mode, plus getting ready for the big Unicity Network launch next month (including updating that web site), plus "re-education" projects that I'm working on, plus organization stuff like the Libertarian Party and the U.U. church (another big web project), plus the various projects upcoming with Telepathic Media. Unfortunately, I've gotten in a space where I am just not functioning. I stare at instruction sheets (needing to replace the CD-ROM drive in my computer) for hours and not being able to "pull the trigger" on getting inside the machine, and similar "blockages" all across the board. I do have some resumes out for things which look promising, but I have a hard time building up any real enthusiasm, since I've seen so many similar "promising" things evaporate in my hands before. Anyway, I guess the one good thing coming from this is more poetry. Lucky you.
AT CATACLYSM'S VERGE
on the edge of the abyss we stand dumbfounded not believing as options fade to mist, as hopes dissolve to void, and prayers are mocked in derisive echoes
all these many roads lead to this precipice the last toe-hold on the real before the plummet into madness and despair, into loss and anguish, and debased states which make one plead for death
nothing we have built stands yet in this day nothing we have learned means anything right here we have failed at every test we have fallen to direr zones
so long we've felt that one true path would open at the last a culmination of every act all sincere striving all truths revealed; but where is it?
only emptiness stands before me now, only disasters, promises of pain, and fresh-wrought cages rife with razor steel; all tomorrows melt away into a fetid churning Hell