From being rolled along the ground, it picked up dirt and as the dirt packed around and tightened around it, it eventually became a boulder. Obviously, physics would deem such as impossible; but the possibility of such doesn’t play much of a part in it once you bring in God, the Devil and a bunch of immortal souls. It’s to say that the realm it occurred in was not bound by the same ‘laws’ as ours; but theoretically, over time, it’s what becomes a rolling stone anyway, when rolled slowly over a long, extended period of time.
Which would be the more reasonable: beings actually pushing boulders up a mountainside for eternity or a pebble turning into a boulder by being rolled up the mountainside? Would you push a boulder up a mountain if nobody was making you do it? When does one stop doing the same monotonous and meaningless tasks over and over again and begin questioning the why of what they do? When you pull life apart to the bare bones, you realize that martial arts, discipline and balance are what we all learn every day whether we want it or not; patience and understanding and compassion along with everything else while some claim to not feel a damn thing, so far they try to run from the pain of feeling.
Why do we do what we do and why, when punished, do we accept the punishment? And for those who don’t accept it as is, what do they do to change it when they have no choice in the matter? How many perspectives can you entertain about the world around you and retain your sanity? Out of this entire story, you pull that one thing out of it to further an answer that may or may not be given adequately; why? Why that one part that strikes your fancy and not any other part? That’s what’s interesting to me and nobody else ever explains about their lines of thinking. In the broad scheme of your life, the pebble turning into a boulder is a rather small part and the answer would be inadequate no matter how well explained since the same question being asked of how a child turns into an adult would be asinine. That, however, was never entertained while the story came to me or while I was writing it, yet is another perspective: a living and sentient world capable of growth and we humans the instruments of torture that we designed ourselves for it out of spite for faulty parenting from consciousnesses that had yet to fully form.
In what reality would the pebble be the main concern, is my curiosity, for I pay more attention to the meat of the story and the inherent message which might get overlooked by more cynical people; that maybe God is human, too, and never made us to work harder than we had to and to do any more or less than what we absolutely have to do, unless we freely choose to do so without being under duress and that the answer to any and all of the problems we face on a daily basis in between living and dying are but passing fancies in eternity; able to be borne easily with the right perspective; the perspective constantly shifting on us as unseeable energy that we both give off and receive; easy answers the entire time for the person willing to roll up their sleeves, have a bit of fun with what they’re doing and actually try to figure out a reasonable solution to the problem.
In essence, a reasonable conclusion would be that you didn’t ask the question to receive a practical answer at all, but to gauge my state of mind. I told you all that you were about to witness a change in me as I ascended. You may find; if you get to know me long enough; that I don’t talk out of my ass, much; unless I
m just joking around with my buddies. There might be other reasons that I don’t much care for, but I don’t really care. When you consider the fact that the end result of everything is death; except for the concept of a god-consciousness that would become spirit energy, personalities and so much more; and that most people in this world are whining and crying little bitches that only think of themselves, it kind of makes you not really care whose toes you step on or who you offend without meaning to.
I guess what I’m getting at and what I never quite thought to ask but always wanted to is, what do other people really think about this stuff when they put their minds to it? Why are so many people so afraid to talk philosophy and about stuff like I talk about openly? Why do people seemingly live in fear to the point where they try to tear me down and bully me for my talents and my intelligence when they privately admire me and would probably never admit that, either? Not to sound vain, but psychology is psychology; body language is body language and I exhibit it the same as everyone else.
Since I’ve been coming here, I’ve seen mostly stale arguments and half-thoughts with glimpses of genius here and there. This is an observation and nothing more. I’ve seen trolls and bullies trying to instigate fights and I’ve willfully given them a fight they will never forget. Past history; my fight has evolved while others have stayed behind me once again even though theirs evolved past their initial stagnancy, it returns to stagnancy. When I go out into the world, homeless, and live my life and my consciousness evolves further, where will yours be? Would you be able to progress your own thoughts without someone like me to continually push you forward or would you adopt bits and pieces of my character into your own as I do to each person I come in contact with. I see strengths and admire them so I learn how to be strong like the people I admire while being myself.
What really lays behind your question except a hidden desire to be free from the constraints of mundane thought? That is what I seek to give to the world and every world verbatim down the line into ages past my own death: something greater than insanity and mundanity; a world beyond this world and a world that could possibly merge with this world and create actual magic. What really is possible if some of the theories I’ve put forth hold any water whatsoever and our imaginations craft the very world around us? Who traps who but we trapping our selves regardless of the concept of magic? No matter which perspective you attack it from, no matter which insanity you wish to entertain and what form of reality you accept, all are trapped in one way or another; whether it be trapped in their fate, trapped in circumstance, trapped in modes of thought, trapped realistically by another person. What form does your freedom take?
You wonder about how something happens instead of enjoying the fact that it does happen. I personally don’t care how they make computer motherboards and shit like dvd’s and the other technologies that exist out there purely for our entertainment as distraction from real events; it doesn’t matter to me how you can fit data on a disc or even a small little flashdrive; doesn’t matter how the cell phones work or how much cancer comes from all of the things that are byproducts of all of the fancy living we enjoy. I’ve thought about these things, but knowing how they do it all would mean absolutely nothing to me. The fact that they put a good amount of work in like everyone else and get paid more than people who work their asses off with physical labor means more to me than that. That’s what I think about: practical shit. How a pebble turns into a boulder is a moot point by the end of the story, so you focus on a moot point. I don’t make these things, I just use them; just like I didn’t create this story, I just told it. When you understand how life flows through you; and all this understanding is is a very very minimal understanding meant to develop over a long period of time; then you realize how futile it is to claim anything as yours or to make money or to work more than you have to and you begin questioning why the government really makes us work so hard to barely make ends meet while enjoying the briefest bit of life in one avenue? What if I wanted to experience the full variety of life? What if I wanted to try a million different things? What if everyone else wanted to do much the same and just never knew how to voice it or may not have ever consciously thought of it, even though it niggles in the background?
I’m just saying; there’s better ways of living than how we have been and until something gets fixed, it’s going to continue to get worse and these stories are nothing compared to the horror stories you see from around the world if you watch the news in one form or another at all. The things I could imagine would probably astound no one here since I have made zero attempts to hide my darker nature and rolled with it until I became something better from the inner struggle; combining it with a worthy outer struggle. People go through life and they feel they have to tackle everything at once; that they have to do something great; and what they amount to most often with those trains of thought are a gnats fart in a hurricane. They take on this huge giant of a boulder and try to push it while going through their paths in life and then they see a mountain and they feel they have to push it up the damn mountain; metaphorically speaking, of course; when all they really have to do is just live and die and make the most of trying situations caused by circumstance and other people wounded by circumstance. They frown at those who try to push the pebbles because they would rather do something easy, too and then someone comes along and says why are you guys pushing those rocks around, wtf; and duh, but what are you going to do if its part of some stupid ass program that began a long time ago and has a momentum and life of its own, and that program becomes what we know of society.
I’m going to tell you something, it’s a rather simple thing: Don’t make things more complicated than they need to be. Sure, it’s possible, but you still reach the same answer as a dumbass eventually: You’re a fucking dumbass and you’re not as great as you think you are. 
Don’t let the secret get out; there’s still dumbasses out there that don’t know they’re dumbasses and they are rapidly becoming intelligent around the world. You know something funny? When I was in jail and out of pot and unable to sleep, I saw a vision of the universe from the other side of a blackhole; where there are no stars or anything living; where nothing living can exist. I saw the possibility of the beginning of everything as a conscious observer how you could see through this one pin-prick on a dark canvas to see light on the other side and to see stars when you look closer through it; to see how calm and peaceful it is. Here’s a question: what if the beginning of time never began when we thought it did, but started somewhere in the middle and created all other life from that middle creating a true eternity. Say that all of everything was created during our life times but we never knew it until we hit that point and wouldn’t fully know it until after, that the creation of everything was both accidental and purposeful. Say that the very beginning of time we know of as long ago was actually the linear beginning but not the true source and that time, well telling you how linear passage of time flows, does nothing to explain the how and the what and the why of life itself. What if.
What if peoples imaginations tell of more than just imagination, but of other realities that truly exist. What if the work of our artists is more than just aesthetic and they actually create and define realities that fail to exist in the long term of our reality because of all of the senseless struggles that exist here? What if this was the centerpiece of countless worlds and countless realities; could you imagine the insanity and immense burden of responsibility for all of that and if you could, could you then imagine the meaninglessness of the boulder punishment itself; the pure monotony of having to teach that same lesson so many times in so many ways for so many countless life forms?
Mental masturbation that some would claim isn’t necessary and yet it broadens the minds horizons; another aim of mine. You asked a question about how a pebble turns into a boulder. The same way that a simple question about a pebble turning into a boulder can be turned into a complex answer metaphorically symbolizing how something small can grow into something bigger and better than initially expected. Now I have answered your question in quite a few different varieties and hope it suffices, knowing that it is still inadequate, because it will be inadequate no matter how I craft it, whether I make it a short reply or a long reply; whether I spoke nonsense or gave actual meaning to it; which I chose the latter, obviously; so I just don’t give a fuck what you think of it and frankly never have. I like feeling accepted in places and enjoy conversation with others, which I have not found an actual equal to in quite some time. I often find myself dominating conversations like this without even trying and intimidating people in a sense without realizing and I just don’t give a fuck, now that I do realize. I’m raising the bar on existence and causing the kids to actually grow into adults whether they want to or not. It solves the problem of being trapped.
It would be inadequate simply because that’s just the way it is. How much can one man truly accomplish in this world when he’s just some bum on food stamps? Some jackass on world of warcraft or some political game called nationstates or some some forum for philosophy openly learning how to live life without fear; that’s all I’ve been. Just some jackass and I don’t mind it one bit; I’ve been that jackass and it was worth it. Even if I die with the world mostly ignorant of my existence, I’m fine with it and what I’ve done with it. That’s the entire point behind the story; it’s not just one way of doing something, it’s being happy with the results of what you do and if you’re not happy with the results, then perhaps its the method you used to obtain the results and not the results themselves that matter. My life is a seeming disaster as I derail my living status and become homeless and yet I’m fully coming into my own as a grown man and as an adult and as part of the living universe around me. Other people live lives of complete success and don’t really enjoy much of them because of what they do in the process. They distance themselves from the pain of living, thinking they can escape the consequences for their actions and yet they truly can’t. Even if nobody brings people to justice, the very nature of these acts changes them in so many tiny ways only noticed over extended periods of time and ruins their lives just the same.
What is the true difference between life styles if all struggle through the same problems in their own groups while looking suspiciously at other groups? What is the difference between a church and a musical concert these days when both religion and real life experiences speak of pain and suffering while raising peoples spirits and giving them hope and strength to face the ‘cruel’ world.
What makes you strong, Mr. Reasonable? Or is strength just a false front for you to cover a litany of weaknesses like it is for so many others? And if you were to take that question more seriously than you should, you should bother to question how I could expect you to suitably answer what you may never have thought about before in such a manner. How can you answer a question about your self that you’ve never even asked your self? And how could you expect someone else to understand such an answer if you gave it? At what point are my questions rhetorical and at what point do people just assume they’re rhetorical so they don’t actually have to give answers? At what point does it become necessary to answer these questions so as to understand one another better? Not just you and I, but across all of humanity, is my point with this. There is a lack of communication all across the board as people choose to grow up one step at a time and each think it means something else for lack of proper education in living while they’re taught all sorts of stuff about math, science and everything else.
Here I give a suitable lesson in life skills and you ask how a pebble turns into a boulder. Actual conversation is what is missing.
Unrelated matter: I quit cold turkey both times I went to jail and the withdrawals bothered me none at all. I started smoking again both times and chain-smoked like a motherfucker in between times I was in jail just because I could. I was just remembering that bit we talked about smoking and me quitting. I find that I don’t really want to quit, just to be able to control my intake and outtake which I can. I choose to smoke as much as I do. Of course, you can say that smoking may kill me some day if you felt like it and others could say that I should quit, but we all die in the end. And, while those assholes sit there and say that, they could be wiped out by a random act of nature while I live on which would be deliciously ironic.
So… hope you appreciate my pebbles of wisdom as they roll through these forums; some day they might be boulders.