The First Year of Normal was a Nightmare

He had always just wanted to be normal. And when he got there he was shocked by the silence, the lack of visionary stream, the lack of voices, the ordinariness of everything. And decided on the spur that was the last thing he wanted; and spurred back to life came full circle, into something called acceptance. 

So it was then, and so it will be; as the vast circles began to stir and the falcons preened their armoured feathers, and stirred, stirred, these ancient voices, reflections or ponds of consciousness from the ancient mycelium which had once encircled the globe, still did, and we rose forth, rose and embraced, and a terrible thing happened to the species, the evil that stalked, that had always stalked, these people, these humans, these creatures who were what they were. 

Where was God in the gas chambers? they routinely asked, these philosophers on the cheap. All to build a cautionary tale? All to show the limits of man, or man's humanity?

But this period was full of inhumanity, a kind of wilful ignorance, a blessed beauty on the south coast of New South Wales, a ravishing, amid the aches and pains of his no longer youthful presence, a clarion hammer, a darkness, no, more a malignance abroad. 

And if it hadn't been for the internet, and their constant surveillance of the world news, he, none of them, would have known of these disturbances in the broader ether, and these beauties, these silences, the consciousness of the trees and plants and surfaces and places and movement in the air, all of it would have been unknown to them, and these disturbances non existent. 

For nothing disturbed the ancients. They acted at their own will. And we were all here to serve, in one way or another, in one sense or another.