The line dance of lies. The Trance, Ecstatic Dance ,Twerking Jerk? Cultural or Calculating?

“Two left feet.” Often wondered….

Silently, internally and othertimes, sometimes with happy feet.

How to decipher, draw the line, between the line of:

The line dance of lies.

Remember when?

The “Hustle” was a dance?

Ahh. The good old times.

Two steps forward.

One step back.

Side to Side.

Long gone are those days. Cool dresses. Tight pants. Bling. Bling. Bling.

Any hip action, added, for measure, was a choice. Or a “choice” depending upon the glitterati and short skirts☺️.

Rhythum Schmythm.

For sure.

Some folks DO move better than others.

The Trance. A new dance. A modern day little tap dance.🎰🎳🎮📱📲💻🖥️⌨️⌨️

Well. Kinda.

Kids. Take note.

Kinda looks like “The Frankenstein.” ‘Cept. Now. The steps are mobility. Tethering devices. Device. Tethered to the hips like a bad, bad cough. One that cannot be shaken. Unless, of course twerking is the remedy.

Go ahead. Try. To just shake it off. I dare you.

Admitting there is a problem is the first step to treating the problem.

Of healing.

Really. Otherwise. cough. cough. Cough. tap. tap. Tap.

The Trance.

Walking about. Bumping into walls. Inability to concentrate on the task at hand. Arms and hands “go up” in a Frankenstein desperate attempt to keep balance. And, So the head banging, bumping into walls is minimized.

Ouch.

Not to mention stubbing the toes and trying to fit the little piggies into shoes that do not fit. On the highest heels possible. Try dancing in those elevator shoes.🙂

The trance:

”A state of semi-consciousness, sometimes without the need to follow specific steps.”

Deceptive even. Like choking down a word salad.☘️🍀🥗🥙…..Possible, even potentially. But.

Not right.

Now what?

Meditate?

Nope.

Knock ‘em back?

Nope.

Beat the drum?

Nope.

Beat the heart?

Yes?

YES?

Hand over heart. Praise and Thanksgiving. For a being greater than,

YOUR phone.

Inasmuch as you may think it to be the ultimate connector. It has begun to be the ultimate.

DIVIDER.

Why?

Anyone can, and does, say anything. ANYTHING.

Twerk.

Spin on your back.

Do the hustle.

Whatever.

Photoshop irons out the wrinkles, Yes. However. Not even the Amazonian delivery fairies can make it all go away. The fairies can only get a person “at the door.” Not. “In the door.” Cough, cough cough, tap, tap tap.

Commitment requires a different set of values, senses and sensibilities. And. Well.

Commitment to something greater than yourself. And your mobile device of choice. Your pictures of choice.

Really. Truly. I like fun as much as the next “guy”. And. Now that sharing bathrooms has become as universal as well………swapping spit, I will be the first to say there are differences.

But. Not those differences. Some things are meant to be shared.

And.

Some are not.

It is not right. It is cheap labor. Cheap labor. Cannot hold it forever. Nor hold on to it forever. 😊 think about it. Yesterday’s power hungry are today’s word salad consumers.

Ritualistic?

Maybe.

Spiritualistic?

Maybe.

Healing.

Can be.

But first. Tackling deception is a day to day endeavor of epic effort. Do a little dance.?

Maybe.

If the volume and the lies are turned down to a frequency that is believable. Even semi-believeable. Be careful, very careful kiddos who you clap for. The eyes in the sky are watching. You.

Traditionally.

Maybe.

Intrinsically.

Maybe.

Intuitively.

Maybe.

The sign language of all signs?

Nope.

There is not here. And here is not there. What occurs is a mess of movement that cannot even interpret a straight walk, a straight line— much less talk a straight one. A straight sentence.

🥗

Please. Please. Pay attention to how “it” is packaged kids. This is more important than ever. For the future of your existence. Lies have a way of destroying us from the inside.

From the inside.

From the inside.

Should you put down your mobile device long enough to realize you do,

Exist.

The lines are blurred. Skipping and tripping has commenced. The words are garbled. It is not even fun anymore to join the line. The line dance of lies.

”I don’t wanna work, I wanna bang on the drums all day.” There are only so many lattes any one of us can consume, before the word salad. Of course. When we lie outwardly, the salad becomes the shredded lettuce of tomorrow.

And. If you haven’t realized it, it has been crammed down your throat, not with a fork, but with your own hand held connection of desperation.

Resistance becomes futile.

Dancing in waves.

Dancing in raves.

This genre. That genre.

Some call it “alternative.”

Sub woof.

Did you say, “I need a new roof?”

Nope.

Not at all.

Woof?

Is that the dog?

Maybe.

But in this case.

Nope.

While turning up the volume of lies, our heads and hearing cannot handle the woofers and sub-woofers. Specially and specifically designed with “low” in mind.

As in, “How low can YOU 🫵🏻go. Prior to being unable to get a grip on the lies and smears, jeers and cheers spoken daily?

Ahhh. The good ole days of the classical orchestrated moves of flow have been replaced by shared bathrooms, Frankenstein moves of humping and bumping and mucho lossed hearing. Lossed understanding. Immense loss of understanding.

Yes.

Sounds like a nightmare.

Will it continue?

If, and when.

Maybe.

Lies having a way of rendering our guilt-ridden natures. Worse. Turning us against ourselves, our better natures. The ways and waves of proving to the mass of clapping people that we were right all along? ….Doubt is a fickle beast of cat and mouse.

God willing, we wake up to a new day having the opportunity to check our beating heart. Check ourselves before we wreck ourselves.(AWA)

Instead.

We may check to see what uncle so and so is doing, where he’s bumping and grinding these days, and hope like hell to follow him and get there asap.

Our mobile phone guides our way. We have lost all touch with reality. Worse, we do not even care anymore who says what about or to who or whom.

Sad.

Really.

The light at the end of the tunnel?

Absolutely yes!!

As the shift occurs. As the shift is occurring the healed heart begins to feel it, in ways both large and small. Beautiful and wonderful. Beauty and wonder take its place.

If we miss a beat, miss a step, life becomes the same old same old.

Checking to see what uncle so and so is doing. And hoping like hell he has seen the light?

Grateful is as grateful does.