Dust in my pockets

This one is an introduction to the Tao, Blood-squeak, and the French weevils…

Image by Clker-Free-Vector-Images from Pixabay

Tao: Live every moment of your heartbeat; where else would you live?

Bloop-squeak: But life is a carousel, and it’s crowded with moments.

Tao: So live fearless in your innocence; and accept every gift that comes your way to be claimed.

Bloop-squeak: I’m not a saint or a guru you know.

Tao: Doesn’t matter; every saint, guru, and dead-eyed duck has passed through this way at one time or another and gave a little wink as they passed through, to say: arrr.

Bloop-squeak: Alright, I’ll pay the bloody toll. How much is it?

Tao: Only you can decide how much it’s worth.

Bloop-squeak: Man, I tell you, this is really esoteric.

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Tao: Any last requests before you go?

Bloop-squeak: I’d like dinner in bed all day long tomorrow, for a start.

Tao: That can be arranged.

Bloop-squeak: And my hair cut down to my waste.

Tao: Sure, whatever you want.

Bloop-squeak: And a hamburger every Sunday.

Tao: It’s on the list.

Bloop-squeak: I almost feel converted.

Tao: So, we’re almost half way there then.

Image by Thanapat Pirmphol from Pixabay

Bloop-squeak: Half way there to what?

Tao: Oh, you know: somewhere, or not somewhere.

Bloop-squeak: I have only dust in my pockets.

Tao: That’s enough to get you into your next dream.

Bloop-squeak: Really?

Tao: Oh yes.

Bloop-squeak: But it’s not half past five yet and time to go home.

Tao: You must stop living in the clock world, or you will be doomed to live in time.

Image by Enrique Meseguer from Pixabay

Bloop-squeak: I can almost feel a drama queen climbing up my hatches, and calling me Pinky if I was to say I agree with this.

Tao: Almost is not enough; and stop being so agreeable. You must batten down your hatches and call out for help.

Bloop-squeak: Oh, I’ve done that a fair bit, I can tell you.

Tao: You must keep on trying until you succeed.

Bloop-squeak: Got any dancing girls?

Tao: What?

Bloop-squeak: Have you got any dancing girls?

Tao: Billions.

Bloop-squeak: Throw one this way then, will you, for it’s time for me to go dancing on this carousel.

Tao: The next boat to the other side will be along when you wake up.

Bloop-squeak: No dancing?

Tao: You can dance on the other side.

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Bloop-squeak: I feel I am already there.

Tao: Dinner will be served at six in the reflection scheme; ties and guests are not compulsory.

Bloop-squeak: Can I bring Saint Hilda’s muse with me to break the ice and change things if I want to?

Tao: You can bring whoever you want, but you can only go on alone.

Bloop-squeak: I will think about this and get back to you when I have made a decision.

Tao: Do. Do not. All is a poem that lives in the now.

Bloop-squeak: Can you spice that up a bit for me and send it via carrier pigeon to my next address?

Tao: That could be arranged.

Bloop-squeak: You are so kind.

Tao: We do our best sir.

Bloop-squeak: Almost a silk purse later and I was counting my dreams and looking for change to give to the beggar who’d arrived and was selling me guessing games against my will, sophomorphic and silly.

Tao: Do not discount wisdom because it comes from somewhere you’ve never been?

Bloop-squeak: I am all ears if I am anything, most of the time, but sometimes I can see it as a service elevator spinning upwards and grinning.

Tao: How can anyone drink that wine and remain sober?

Bloop-squeak: Who said anyone was sober around here?

Tao: I’ve no idea.

Bloop-squeak: It’s all dust and dreams then, where we appear to go or come to disappear where we may you say?

Tao: Something like that.

Bloop-squeak: Then I must bag my chestnuts while I may.

Tao: Yes, you must.

Bloop-squeak: So what is it: must, or may; just so I’m not confused here?

Tao: You must make up your own mind as to what it is.

Bloop-squeak: I think it must be French weevils by the sound of it.

Tao: It is now time to tear up the tickets of your thinking in your thoughts and make another sound in the underground….

French weevils: French weevils here, is this the underground?

End of part one…

Images from Pixabay