The paper man, assembled from every expected aspect of the canned society. Written down and stored in a box.
A box stored in the heart of the man.
A man who does all the things “expected” of every man of the age. He goes to work, he pays his taxes, he chases women.
Doing what he can to pass the time until death comes.
But there is a dark spot in the man. A spot he fears to enter. The time between the script of his created self and the next day.
A place where there is nothing. A hole that exists in where there are no tasks to be completed. No smiles to put on. No hands to shake.
Thats where it shows itself and he dare not ever enter it.
So he fills that gap with booze, with drugs, with women. It blurs the gap, fills it with a hazy memory, easily forgotten.
For that, that is the spot where dreams lay and he dare not dream. For dreams are unwritten, unscripted.
Dreams are unknown.
Dreams could be fire. Fire could burn this paper man, leaving nothing but the horrors that live in the boundless wasteland of the imagination.
The Restless Raven 
Jan 07, 2016 @ 10:05:53
This is deep. I enjoy reading your blogs!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Jan 07, 2016 @ 10:55:45
I enjoy that you enjoy reading my blogs! 🙂
LikeLike
Jan 07, 2016 @ 11:58:06
“I have given each being a separate and unique way
of seeing and knowing that knowledge.
What seems wrong to you is right for him.
What is poison to one is honey to someone else.
Purity and impurity, sloth and diligence in worship,
these mean nothing to me.
I am apart from all that.
Ways of worshipping are not to be ranked as better
or worse than one another.
Hindus do Hindu things.
The Dravidian Muslims in India do what they do.
It’s all praise, and it’s all right.
It’s not me that’s glorified in acts of worship.
It’s the worshipers! I don’t hear the words
they say. I look inside at the humility.
That broken-open lowliness is the reality,
not the language! Forget phraseology.
I want burning, burning.
Be friends
with your burning. Burn up your thinking
and your forms of expression!
Those who pay attention to ways of behaving
and speaking are one sort.
Lovers who burn
are another.”
— Rumi
LikeLiked by 1 person
Jan 07, 2016 @ 12:34:24
Wow I have never seen this poem of Rumi’s! It resinates so deeply with this post and myself as well. Thank you for sharing it!!
LikeLike
Jan 07, 2016 @ 12:04:56
Love it! Finding the spark that lights that fire and burns away the paper man full of should of’s and should be’s. The dreams let the true light and man to shine through.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Jan 28, 2016 @ 10:53:20
Powerful thoughts regarding The Paperman and from Rumi.
Sensations/feelings put to words, impressive skill.
Reaching deep within many all of us in some way
Thank you.
I love it.
LikeLike