The Distance of Hidden Kings

You must understand that money has no meaning on the throne. The throne is the origin of money after all.

It’s always interesting seeing startup founders cashing out and falling into despair. Because a lot of us are wired: can you sincerely live without a “career”? Puh! Of course! But don’t read up on the trust fund druggies or the well-off NEETs… More often than not, we all need endeavor to occupy us. Entertainment as a salve. Holding together a stringy mind.

But where the very concept of modern money means nothing (which currently drives everything…) one can only wonder what lies beyond. How they “keep it together”. Whenever you listen to old composers and what they pulled out of the aether, so do you ever wonder what the apex of humanity looks like? Lurking around today. How they take on Lucifer’s scowl. Keep in mind you’ve never seen them; they’ll never show themselves.

In the realm of kings so one shall gaze deeply into the glass floor and steer our beloved crops of humanity. I’m only a meagre peasant and amateur jester, deluded vagrant sniffling around here… only these speculations. But hierarchy is inevitable, mirroring the organs of our body, and so humanity’s mind commands the “hidden hand”, maybe.

I’m sure you’ve run across someone radiant before. Maybe as a child, before you grew to their level. They know you, and firm is the hand to hold you along in their conversation. One moment their eyes seem so clouded and another so crystal, burning away your tepid inner narratives. That no one cares.

And one can imagine the peasant child, perhaps 1800s, Berlin, crying and holding onto sleeves. “Why don’t you love me?” while the mother looks away ashamed. She knows she can’t explain she has to work, she has to leave him here. She can’t say if she’ll even return. She can’t say why it’s that way. So she can only embrace and silently receive his confusion and despair.

Looking upon the symphony we’re all intermeshed in, cruelty embedded, those on the throne can’t explain why it is this way. It’s a bridge impossible to cross. How it is in accordance with the laws of the natural domain, maybe. And they at least grant us Money Meaning to look away from it.

Meagre peasant I’ll continue to be… making the most of the slice of life given to me. Little stick in hand, waving it about and drawing in the sand. For if I ever sat at The Banquet I know all the topics and seeming coldheartedness would render so foreign to me. The unwritten codec on why; the little to no room for pity, how destructive emotion can be.

Only on the throne do you dare to look at the macro picture. Shaped by Nature’s torment and swarm. When it comes across as horrifying, you as the supposed apex, so one must wonder what could be done.

But nothing can be done.

Because that’s how the world works. As time expands, under a helping hand, so comes a day where no one can help you other than yourself. The help prior may only serve as impediment.

But if only you help yourself and you continue to help yourself, persevere, maybe then you’ll meet with the masters waiting for you. Maybe then you’ll discover some hidden hand ways to gallop our timeline along.

And how bright the future will be.

With enough time.