The Long Way Home

The Long Way Home


     There’s a road that can be forgotten in the rush of the daily minutia that makes up the ticking seconds of a life. There are things that have to be done to feed the big machine. There are things that have to be done to make sure the gears keep turning. The machine is important. Bills don’t get paid and bellies don’t get filled if the machine isn’t given its due. Sometimes it’s hard to remember that the machine is just a tool meant to accomplish a very basic task. Too much attention paid to the metal giant and the machine starts to take on a life of its own. Worship overlong at the altar and the machine becomes a god and a petty and jealous one at that. In the end it will require you to sacrifice everything in the name of its cause. Like some old myth come to life it will fill the sky and the land around until everything is the machine and the machine is everything.

    Inertia is an interesting concept. Newton’s law of inertia states, in a nutshell, that it is the natural tendency of objects to resist changes in their state of motion until some other force acts upon them. The machine loves inertia. Inertia keeps the machine fed and oiled. The doctrines of the Church of the Machine forbid its disciples to enact an opposing force to that inertia. The machine desires to keep all purposes at one with its need to survive and dominate.

     Feed the machine. It is a necessary evil. But you must decide when and what it will eat. Embrace change. Bend it to your time and your purpose. The machine is powerful. It will fight you but never forget that it is only a means to an end and not the end itself. There are many ways to get to where we’re all going but in the end all roads lead to Rome. So if you’d like to, take the long way home. 



The Road Not Taken

~Robert Frost

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,

And sorry I could not travel both

And be one traveler, long I stood

And looked down one as far as I could

To where it bent in the undergrowth;


Then took the other, as just as fair,

And having perhaps the better claim,

Because it was grassy and wanted wear;

Though as for that the passing there

Had worn them really about the same,


And both that morning equally lay

In leaves no step had trodden black.

Oh, I kept the first for another day!

Yet knowing how way leads on to way,

I doubted if I should ever come back.


I shall be telling this with a sigh

Somewhere ages and ages hence:

Two roads diverged in a wood, and I–

I took the one less traveled by,

And that has made all the difference.



13 thoughts on “The Long Way Home

  1. Let\’s see. You can write beautifully. Your paintings — even on a canvas of gourd — are incredible. I suppose you can carry a tune, too, can\’t you?And dance without fear of being mocked?I\’m a fan.


  2. whose woods these are i think i knowhis house is in the village thoughhe will not see me stopping hereto watch his woods fill up with snowcan you please teach me to be as enlightened as you. i think i want you as my therapist.


  3. @CherylThanks. I hope your retirement is kicking the machine\’s butt. ;)@EdgyKayI can sing but like all things whether it\’s tuneful is really up to the "ear" of the beholder. I can tell you that my piano and guitar playing are far from professional. It is true that I don\’t care if people laugh when I dance but that is most likely because I live in a family of true divas and as a result often go unnoticed in their brilliant light.=)@PatresaWould it be nice if there was no big machine?What a concept…It makes me think back to your entry that asked everyone what they would do if they could do whatever it was they wanted.@AmyI love that poem! Frost was so skilled. There\’s so much happening on different levels.And I don\’t think you need a therapist! It\’s some of the people around you that are messed up, not you =)


  4. I thought of this when I read your post Welcome my son, welcome to the machine. Where have you been? It\’s alright we know where you\’ve been. You\’ve been in the pipeline, filling in time, Provided with toys and \’Scouting for Boys\’. You bought a guitar to punish your ma, And you didn\’t like school, and you know you\’re nobody\’s fool, So welcome to the machine. Welcome my son, welcome to the machine. What did you dream? It\’s alright we told you what to dream. You dreamed of a big star, He played a mean guitar, He always ate in the Steak Bar. He loved to drive in his Jaguar. So welcome to the Machine


  5. i love that poem too, stopping by woods on a snowy evening. my whole 7th grade class had to memorize it, i think i was the only one who didn\’t seems impossible for me to get away from the negativity sometimes. i go out, someone fucks w/me, i get in a fight. i\’ve been forced to dump almost every friend i\’ve made in the past few yrs b/c they suddenly go psycho. i can\’t figure out what\’s wrong, thinking therapy may help….or screw me up worse. i wish i knew.


  6. @IndigoHigh colonic…ouch, lol you are mean. Remind me never to get on your bad side. Re: the photo… I had to climb down into this huge gulch, scrambled across a creek bed and crawl through some pretty hairy underbrush to get that one. It was quite a view. I have to say the picture doesn\’t come close to doing the scenery justice.@ToadA Pink Floyd man eh? Emadd9 Cmaj7(2) Emadd9 … and now you take it ;P@AmyIsn\’t it funny how something like a poem can stick in your head. I\’ve always liked poetry and I have a couple that I remember from school as well. If you think therapy is going to help then maybe you should do it. It\’s my understanding that you have to find the right therapist for you or they can do more harm than good. I wish I had some sound advice to give but frankly I don\’t think that life is full of "pat" answers. I really hope that you find your way.xL


  7. @PatIsn\’t Frost great? I had such a time picking out a picture for this entry. The golden wood was everywhere that week (before the wind came and stripped it away) and it seemed impossible to pick just one picture.


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