Born to this material world—two things one must do—live and die.
For the majority of humanity, material sludge is nothing more than a daily drudge eking out one more day of existence on Mother Earth.
Depending on the place of birth, and whether born with a silver spoon in the mouth, the material sludge is profoundly different and each situation as unique as a snowflake.
Considered those born into less than privileged circumstances.
Here, within the construct of the modern “civilization” the majority of humans are exploited, and indeed sacrificed for the abstract notion of “progress.”
“Welcome to the jungle,” and, as a cheesy-pop-kitsch group of the 80s bleated out—”it get worse here every day.”
For the record: The author of this article does not subscribe to the infantile notion of our world as a dystopian jungle, regardless of the plethora of morons, charlatans, and very cranky bossy bosses, inevitably encounters along the journey under the Rising Son.
Here the old adage one’s own dainty grandmother knew—now passing on to you—hopefully it has stuck like superglue—cause it’s so very true:
If wishes were horses beggars would ride.
In the stark blinding light of reality—the fact remains unchanged—life is not fair.
Tragically, there is not a lot of hope for those born into the poverty cycle and a destitute life of servitude to the masters—both the local lackeys along with their owners the shadowy “shareholders” pulling the levers from behind the black curtain in dark.
In rare instances, a life is a series of preplanned events, with an autonomous life having never been recognized, but born to shoulder the burden of the social construct and to articulate the foundational ancient narrative of the Japanese people.
Truly, the stringent nature of Japanese society can been seen reflected in the spartan lifestyle of the Japanese emperor.
When asked about what it was like to be the Emperor of Japan, the then Emperor Akihito solemnly replied:
“Akin to being a robot.”
As naïve children, many had a secret wish to have been dealt a different lot in life—to be a celebrated artist—rich, famous, and handsome—what would it be like to be a prince, and then king?
From a distance the notion of wealth, power, and fame look somewhat attractive; nonetheless, once the lid has been removed and an objective look inside—the stories are all too familiar.
After the knocked down 7 get up 8 protocol was invoked for the umpteenth time many moons ago one finally accepted the reality:
Live in the world of material sludge as it has been constructed while conjuring the world one desires to thrive in and then to leave to those who will come from behind.
In understanding life is to be played like a game—the law of the jungle the rules—one will well prepared to face the plethora of depraved and crazy animals, drooling imbeciles, and those who think absolutely nothing whatsoever of swindling someone’s granny.
The circumstance of one enter into the atmosphere of Mother Earth is determined at the sole discretion of Amaterasu, the common sun all share and the divine star that ultimately binds humanity to one another via her life-giving ray of light.
Ultimately one must consciously choose to be grateful for all things—life in all—essence of mortality—ephemeral nature of life—inevitability of the ultimate equalizer—the final door.