Rusty Leashes en sus ojos

My brain is a monkey crack factory.  Thinking.  Thinking.  Intention, values...The values that we beam out of our eyes when we look out into the world from our head caves.  Unawares of the same eyes peering from other head caves crawling all over the skin like a million little beetles (Indiana Jones...ha). 

Dog leashes.  People leashes.
Everyone has a leash, but some are tied to a faraway wrist somewhere.  Some are tied to the wearer's wrist, even.  Some have more slack, some are chains.  Barbed wire collars, even, some of them.  Electro-shock collars.  Collars made of silk yarn.  Cat guts, violin strings, twisted paper bags.  Any and all materials can become a leash. 


So how does the leash become tied to the wrist and do we have a choice which master we find ourselves tethered to?  There's a power, a tug of war, for our own right to run free.

Or do we seek out wrists to tie ourselves to?  As distraction, lack of confidence, or some other mental block that has us thinking we need to be tethered to something other than our aware selves.
See, the leash has many effects upon the dog.  Leashes can:
restrict
balance
protect
confuse
control
bind

All neither good nor bad.  It's just the function of the leash.  Sometimes leashes can save us from danger--acting as a reminder to keep our bones in proper order, mainining our locomotions within society in order to function as efficiently as possible.  Together the wrist that holds the leash and the wearer of the leash chug along together at an unspoken agreed upon pace--making small sacrifices to join together as one locomotive.

But once the structure of society--a blueprint of how, when, and hwere to locomate--becomes internalized, the leash is no longer necessary (seemingly...or, it is no longer visual, anyway).  And often some are trapped by the illusion of their own free will.  The illusion of leashlessness.  When really, is it not plausible to say that since this internalization of external values, the leash has coiled in so close around the heart, lungs, psyche, that it suffocates the natural wild body--black poison drying in the cracks of sand, stained.

Drying, depleting resources of the human body--the mind, the entire cycle is robbed of an important element of intuition.  Societal values have dried up some of the great seeds humans are capable of planting within themselves and others.  The wells of authenticity have run dry a little bit--an overwhelming trend sometimes, in some places.

The goal from teh getgo is to protect, nourish, and water the seeds of authenticity and good intent--yet the soul becomes clouded with shards.  Shards of glass and dried up greed and fear--the saliva of the ego.

My leashes are invisible
Self induced,
Yet lifesavers.

Some lucky to have slack.  A comfy collar.
A nametag--phone and address.
Shows somebody cares.
However, to be given a name, an owner, a choker is to be a tethered entity.  Where's choice?  Does it matter?  We're all starting out with the same broken down tool shed anyways.  Just with different tools, different rusts covering the eyes.