Living – Life – Large

The Intrepid Explorer: Why and how

By Dan Abernathy
Posted 6/20/24

Countless times I’ve been asked why and how come. Why do you choose to share your thoughts and where and how do they come from? The answer is because of the way I freely perceive and express …

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Living – Life – Large

The Intrepid Explorer: Why and how


Countless times I’ve been asked why and how come. Why do you choose to share your thoughts and where and how do they come from? The answer is because of the way I freely perceive and express who I am. This adaptation allows me to be joyous in my nature. The way you express who you are is how your life experience will be.

There is no hidden agenda for what I write. There are however underlying motives. I write my thoughts to hopefully evoke mental activity in the mind of the reader. What I put to paper is not meant to leave a mark of some kind. The impression I wish to leave is the suggestion to remain a question, but never the answer. It is your own interpretation alone that will find your answer.

I seemingly expose myself in one of two ways. I’ll rant unstoppable as if I’ve consumed three shots of tequila and seven cups of espresso-laced coffee while sitting in the back of an all-night dinner. I can also deliver my thoughts like a Buddhist monk practicing a vow of silence while I look and observe. This is the way of my being and usually there is little in between.

I defend my voice and who I am by firmly planting my feet on a foundation of calmness and unleashing my thoughts with the maddening accuracy of a longbow in the hands of a Zen Archer. I stand and absorb the pain in this tragic void where I hide from invisibility, thinking I have control, waiting to participate in a narrative of which there is no control.

My mind is often in turmoil throughout the night with the meaninglessness of what is. The predawn gives me the opportunity to flush away and reject what the past would have rejected anyway. I feel like the troubadours, whores and poets that can no longer understand that Shakespeare was just a man and now they wallow in the absurdity of madness. This confused eccentric interpretation, that often makes no logic, entices me to write.

What consumes my thoughts on some days could be the sensation of the running track dogs that have caught the rabbit and tried to shake out the blood that was not there. This absurd and ludicrous act reveals the truth that we are all facing a longer decline, of the decline that we have been enduring for years.

Vikings no longer pillage and plunder; yet everyone speaks in limited propositions and false sequences of action, which preclude any other action or possibilities. The norm has turned into a senseless barrage of un-normal behavior. I cannot conform to a standard or common type. As a free individual, my demeanor and zones have been chosen to challenge society and boldly resist the patterns that have now been deemed normal to make you feel uncomfortable.

It’s not fear, nor is it dealing with some obscured boundary. It’s about my own unimpaired principles. I can look and see into an observation of anything or anyone and when it’s an uncomfortable negative. I simply tell myself I don’t need to allow this to be part of my reality. I implement my power of choice and set into motion a cosmic redirection.

In this world of now, nothing is rational, least and foremost feelings, of which I often experience a cruel overabundance. Everyone is seemingly trying to save face, whether it be in public, private or in the remorseful last moments in a hospital bed.

We are in the chaos of an unknowable void, in a time when knowledge can be accessed with each passing moment. Yet we have lost the truth. Everything is becoming ridiculous and nothing matters. We are becoming acquainted with facts, truths and principles, while not accepting the conclusion that machines and computers will be our death, the final delete of mankind.

Right now, however, there is a horrendous and seemingly unstoppable act with the infusion of a harmful swindling hoax of misinformation. It is filled with realism devoid of originality while we sit around the table exchanging trivialities of daily life. We sit and sort the jumble of words that make perfect sense when spoken separately, knowing and not caring that the sunflowers have stopped turning towards the sun.

We look and we accept the irony that the modern constraint of social media and clocks has become our controlled restraint. Because we have courted this harmful situation for so long, we now can find that we have no shackles. We are part of a marriage that, like the majority of everything, is now plastic and disposable.

Conceivably, as I think about what I’m thinking, I write because I am running out of room for my thoughts and now have little space to store them. My journals have become the archives of what boils in my mind with reckless abandonment.

Imaginably, as I think about what I’m thinking, writing is a quiet way of grasping and containing the torment of an uncontrolled and uncensored mind screaming with confused joy.

There is no reason to compete with each other, as there is no competition in living. Just find the joy in enjoying. Enjoy where you are and where you are going, but most importantly, enjoy the space in between.

I will always continue to think, write and believe in my dreams. I will freely chase them wherever they may go. All of the erratic journey will be yours to read. I will travel with them and be myself so completely that everyone else will lose their fear and become who they are as well. - dbA

You can find more of the unfiltered insight and the Art of Dan Abernathy at

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