Homeless in Paris Homeless in Paris | Page 15

B"H Maneuvering this Literary Journal I must blaze my own trail to my perspective as an elderly citize n of the early twenty first and old -timer of the 20 t h Century, there is vital need for such as pertains to those who m have become elderly. In the present era, people generate Hydroponic vegetation; engineered genetically to resist infestation, deco mposition, fed synthetically, never exposed to rain or wind, and never tastes the ground. Like them, those who m consume them have lost the taste intrinsic to their human experience. The industrial age had it all wrong. By supplanting the need for human labor, the culture merchants have absolved the human race of the need to work in cooperative efforts. We are readily disposable, and we have no reason to maintain a healthy state of mind and body. The seemingly most difficult aspect of aging is a person thinking he or she could face death unbeknown to anyone for days afterward . It is imminently imperative for one to develop cultural aspirations, among them literature and art, both possible if one has writing utensils and paper. It is a principle of human existence the e lderly get plenty opportunity for creative productivity. In the litera ry arts, an author will stimulate literal impressions so a reader is transported to the place when the event portrayed. One must reconcile himself to the number and placement of the "viewpoints," where parallel lines appear to continue as a singularly unified line that ends up as a dot gradually declining into empty space where in white light prevails. The dimension that truly defines perspective is an imagined motion of energy waves that transfer stimuli to specialized areas of our brains. Cessatio n of their proximity implies incommunicability between them and our soul essence, as commonly stated: "Out of sight, out of mind. " I feel that a message that merits expression can signal a veri table truth that ascend beyond a conception of time, something like lasting until eternity. Our me mories are disposed to spend time creatively, and keeping record of these accounts on my PC creates within me, the feeling that I AM a bridge expanding over a vastness to the "WE ARE" that connects individuals. I live to share the sight of all united forever as one. This very morning I contemplate what I a m when I look out fo r number one. How shall the me mory thereof be shared; self is a disposable co mmodity whereas giving life traverses every give n point in time unto the furthest reaches of the universe. Only fair 15