I woke up human once more,

 I woke up human once more,
I don’t remember the score.
I’m back in the saddle again.
Serving this body of mine,
Until the end of its time.
I’m back in the saddle again.

Almost everyone alive is asleep.  I feel for them.  They take life seriously, which is as it must be in a play, or it wouldn’t be worth the admission.

The separation is complete, but I’m still here with this body, mind, and emotions.  It knows what I know, that life is a play for Intelligences, so now we are twiddle-dee and twiddle-dumb just having fun.

We all come to play a part.  We are actors in a play.  And even when we wake up in the play and realize we are actors, we continue to play our parts (being yet in bodies–carry wood, haul water) but our perspectives are different.  Mostly we’re amused, with a magnanimous delight at the players intensity, and a teasing pleasure at their predicaments, garnished, of course, with gobs of empathy for their imagined plight, and even a slight melancholy at our own loss of innocence (for innocent they are, as are all actors after a play).

What can justify the intense suffering in life, but that life is a play, a real-life play?  Each Intelligence that enters the play has the heart of a warrior regardless of the part it plays, and yet, the ones who play the most challenging parts, who suffer the most, are the stars of the play.

The stage and scenery were set, and the actor’s bodies (avatars) prepared, before we arrived, and upon arrival our memories were erased.