BONES ON THE FROZEN GROUND

by illimitableoceanofinexplicability

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To my fellow explorers who now find themselves in this small part of our eternal striving

Anyone who was to read the above title would most likely notice that it is in all capitals, or as those who dedicate themselves to the study of typography would say, ‘Upper case’, however, only a very few, a select few, maybe even yourself¹, would ever think about why it may be this way, would dare contemplate, for even a moment or two, the various reasons why the author may have chosen to do this, and what it was, ultimately, meant to convey to you, the reader. Now, I’m not here to tell you what conclusions those special ones among you, who give more than a passing thought to things, see further than most, think deeper than the rest, should come to about why I chose to present the title in all capitals, or to suggest you consider what possible purpose I believed served by titling this post, ‘BONES ON THE FROZEN GROUND’, as opposed to, ‘Bones in the Grass’, or, ‘Bones Found in the Frozen Grass’ or even simply, ‘Bones’ which while descriptive of what seems to be the central focus of the image is, in the estimation of anyone who thinks ‘deeper than the rest’, a pathetic effort at titling. Be that as it may, at this point, your head swimming with a myriad of questions, but due to my having told you at an earlier time that everyone gets only one question, you choose, from the doubtless incalculable number available, to ask me,”What kind of bones”?, and, after tilting my head oddly from side to side, and exhaling loudly I answer, “Who can say”? Yes, yes, I know, believe me, I know I could certainly guess, but by guessing and then presenting my guess to you a great disservice would be done to the furtherance of the mystery I was attempting to convey in the first place. For, if you have never experienced it first hand, let me assure you that coming across a pile of bones, especially as I did these, far from any signs of civilization, save the asphalt road running off across the barren landscape and disappearing into the rugged mountains far in the distance, is an experience at once shocking in an ancient, primal way, stoking unimagined fears in one’s gut while setting every single nerve on edge, and as well, for those special few I mentioned previously (again, perhaps even yourself), a sobering existential experience not easily come back from.

So now, here we are, myself, and those very few chosen (be it by some God, or chance, we may never know) who are capable of attaining higher levels of understanding, who go the extra mile to walk in not only another human’s shoes, but also go what is sometimes referred to, in whispers, by sages and mystics, as the eternal mile in order, for even a brief moment, to attain some deeper, more real, appreciation for the universe as a whole. Breathe deeply, my friend, you, apart from those countless others, have made it, have ascended to the very top as I all along knew you would, and, as no doubt, if they were not lost forever in ‘the mists of time’, the ancient stone tablets, covered in strange writing, would proclaim to all as your destiny.

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bones

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.¹ The answer as to whether or not it is ‘you’ I write about here I cannot provide, and doubt very much that anyone else, even the very creator of this world as well as any possible others that may, like us, hang in the dark vastness of space, can, but instead only humbly suggest that you could look for the answer, if you have the time, and there is nothing else worth doing, within yourself.

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