There are as many explanations for Monday as their are stars in the sky. Stars in the sky, care about as much about as Monday, as Monday cares about them. That is probably why Nature herself doesn’t put special meaning on a Monday. It comes on it’s own. It leaves on it’s own. Just another day in the millions that have come and the millions that are yet to come. Man in it’s infinite wisdom has put meaning to the day, but this meaning is also not the same around the blue rock on which we crawl. In the western hemisphere the day follows two days of freedom. Where man and woman could do as they please. Rocks, plants, trees and animals live their lives, never bothering with the significance of one day over another. Seasons they know. Knowing when to bound with joy as the bright lights, smells and sounds grows numerous; the new plants for the coming season. Lazing in the sun drenched summer months and stuffing their gullets with the bounty of a season of plenty. Never thinking on the day of tomorrow as mother nature slathers on the layers of fat that will see them through the lean months of the fall and winter to come.
For all of man’s wisdom they never seem to pick the tasks to fill their day, that will give them greatest joy. Lamenting forever at their lot in life. Strange to view their daily struggle when fellow man is the cause of all their strive. Never to come together in common cause, but always to compete for petty marbles. Compete. Compete. The crazy drummer that they march to. So distracted are they in their competition that they don’t notice the time slipping by.
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