our bones of disposition,
hard to see the bones themselves.
those deep philosophies of self
that don't flash as personality.
they hardly come up as propositional either.
they don't get emphasized in the script of the day.
they have no simple underlined construction to say.
they seem vastly historical,
maybe inherited from previous generations,
out of character in a self assessment sort of way.
but they are there.
and when delivered as inner self-dialogue,
there is a pronouncement to them
as if reading from the bible of self,
from the homestead of value and honorable concern.
they are part of the backstage force
that generates personality and perspective's position
yet remain profoundly undisclosed.
they labor in the mind,
have tenants that live through oneself with honor.
when revealed,
they make one wonder about their initial source.
are these premises that my parents had?
are these every other generational?
they seem to have a lifetime of character to them
and one doesn't feel like the original author.
they have a sense of balance
as to how to be a person in the world.
these have both initiative and also reserve.
they seem deeply cast and direct in carriage.
where from and where going, one does not know.
they override my whimsical sense of being.
they play reframe cards
on much of the naivety of one's day.
they run deep beyond any philosophical discussion.
no debate can be raised.
they carry on, without one's personal interruption.
anyone would be at a loss to go against them by display.
they seem stronger than habit can afford to challenge.
sometimes one could feel like an actor on their behalf,
just read the lines and feel for the mood.
seriously, we have no idea of the original source.
don't really recall any sense of training or experiences
that justify their strong stance from deep within.
they have no topic as distractive or deterrent.
it's a wonder that this is me.
have tried to think of them as trauma born,
but nothing appears to claim.
have gotten no answers as to the source of them.
but they do carry and they wear each one of us well.
and they ride out every experience that we have.
each of us and our bones of disposition . . .
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