If a fictionalized person tries to make sense of his fictionalized world, is his effort significant?
When you learn how to solve a rubik’s cube, you are even more confused about how it works. The more you educate yourself on a disciplined subject, they more you realize you really don’t know anything. The more sense you make of things, the more algorithms you memorize, the more concepts you comprehend, the more confusing anything is.
The instant you genuinely realize to yourself, “dang, this is what they meant by enjoy being a kid while you can”, you realize this is what they meant by enjoy being a kid while you can.
taste my illness
Let me fill up this solid veil with all the mental illness that I feel.Let me quantify what’s in my head. Turn the abstract emotion and thoughts into mere liters and quarts. Let me label it with a sharp piece of synthesized paper and let me let the glass age until you can palpate a sour brown. Have a swig and amerce yourself in the paranoiac ambiance. Invite the little tiny green demons into your thought processes and let them dance their calamity into your imagination. Surprise yourself with the debauchery of this existence and understand why demons choose to violate goodness. Your degraded brain is now mush but at least you can revel in the excitement of this new perspective. Forge your own holy doctrines and let the dullness of apathy enslave your resolve. Escape with the music but know you have chosen to play the game. It’s a perpetual shape of time and events and all you are thinking is what kind of sick architect is capable of this.
I’ve heard of religions where they depict life through the product of a singular certain reason (granted each with a different resolve). I’ve heard of nihilism where supporters cannot institute a reason whatsoever; life is exported like a secular sitcom. However in a moment, I’ve dreamt of a thought infrastructure where everything in life exists because it is of significance to something else. A life where every single thing whether physical, abstract or something even more arcane can be blueprinted each with a purpose. Essentially, a universal ecosystem is what I’m saying. But…not of just organisms, but ALSO, that spoon on the table, feminism, galliard, and 12:51 pm. Each entity, whether embodied with matter or sense or color works together in an incomprehensible web all reasoning to perfection. Tally for me another blasphemous doctrine, but what do you call this perspective of life?
Sabre tooth botany
Floating grassblade platforms
Dreams of the summer
She is a rocket drug
Feel the beast known as this moment
Craft it with her suffering
Add a pinch of color
Embody an arcane perspective
March an euphoric parade
Know that this walk is long
Cut and cry into eternity
But memorize your past serenity
There is no talk of sense here friend
You are but a carton of milk
You are galactic propaganda
A generational spectacle
Let the voice drift right through you
and hear the sweet hymn and become blind
Step into your place and reinforce
Damn you friends who all got serious girlfriends and alienated me when I was alone and entering the real world. I’ve had no external emotional support system besides pot and volleyball. I can’t even be sedated properly by coffee and TV. Modern forms of bread and circus just irritate me; they don’t appease me. I’ve grown so wrongfully in the past few years that my personality has disfigured and it’s left me in a mentally shell shocked state. Please embodied entity of the stars, I just want to conform, metabolize and age like a normal cog of society. Being this structurally enlightened heuristically is a curse. Please unteach me the evil ambitions of this world and culture me to happiness.
"Thinking of peace whilst spilling blood is something only that humans could do."
Media is the new fascism.