And so it was, when all the sheep had followed each other; and all said the same thing; and appeared to be the same thing; when they'd run out of ideas to copy; and they all had grown tired of copying each other, they began to question what to do next ...Unable to think for themselves, they gazed around the field, and environs close to the field, for new grass to chew, and for other inspirations to steal.
To no avail.
And, when the crowds began to abate at the show pony arena, their interest in the glitzy banners, flyers and the ego strutting as the 'psychic medium that can do it all' (But can barely do anything in truth) began to fade. It appeared time to switch off the expo lights for the final time. Packing their bags; hanging up their fancy shoes ... maybe it was time to return to their conventional lives.
But then, one of the lights flickered back on. For some it appears there is chance for 'minor backstreet fame' again. As a corrupt worm began to lift its head out of the soil again. Maybe new grass might grow for some. Maybe, just maybe, there is a chance for ego strutting once again. And, on social media, the rumours began, and the fancy banners suddenly had reference to the corrupt worm again. Unlikely to raise barely a speck of light ... but they can live in hope. But as we know, reality rarely turns out how the false ego perceives a light ....
