I re-type as I re-invent

[Sepia]

I steal as I create something myself, I kid the the gloves on vauxhall panes and I keep driving into the golden setting sun with a bottle of tequila in hand heading for one sort of oblivion. I see the names of old dead masters and I recreate their names, I redo their work and drop oneliners from 007 and army of darkness as I sit myself down by the tablet and I draw.

I draw mickey mouse with a hitler stache, I draw calvin klein with manboobs and for every drawing discarded I find my voice. I become less ethereal, more solid and more alive and as I grow they hear my voice and my bewilderment. They drink them you know, they drink old ideas like vintage Vine, collecting the powerful drops of mickey, scrooge, roger rabbit and cthulhu every season before they dilute it in cheap metaphors and images, always readily available from the mainstream market.

By observing the inhabitants for longer periods of time, it seems like they have a burning desire to play ctf. Their laughs are always nervous when speaking about that or democratical votes put out. There is also a lot of fear in their tone when first attempting something they've been studying theoretically for years. The burden of information eats it up and this is all that's left. There are no easier routines and as some of the pigs in the den have said "There is no surrender, only defeat".

Some of the days when I wake up and look out into the yard there are more pigs than humans, everyone has the same colour on their skin, bloated small waterheaded miracles going around doing their duties talking amongst themselves, not how to free one another but rather how and why neurocam does what it does.

who am i/i am i/who is holding me here/i am holding myself here/why don't i escape/convenience

where location location location is the mantra of the moneyhungry suits of the world convenience convenience convenience is the unheard shriek of the dead-dormant masses. Dadaspeak turned into english a long time ago and Orwellian is now only to describe a certain time of nightmare which can also be removed by several therapeutical sessions from a dominatrix.

I feel, in my times here, that I can no longer speak about freedom. The inherited god lets out a small mumble and freedom==slavery, slavery==historical/archaic/useless. It still rings in my ears, like a real shitty punk concert or a bomb in the shopping mall none of which are really favoured: just truths. Freedom does not exist. Freedom is another type of restraintive control. You are not the masters of your own lives, you are not the architects of your own fate.

We would do well to remember that we only are products. We need more information to be handled well, like used cores from hot reactors. The definition of me is encoded in all of you and vice versa. I know myself only when staring at myself through the looking glass of everyone else. I do not know the silence that creeps from the moors, I do not know myself in this silence for I have none to speak to.

[faust]

I really enjoyed that and the feel of dislocation and individuality, but it is very bleak.

[Sepia]

I think it's my brain trying to figure out a(nother) horribe troof.


Either that or it's been really shitt weather today.

[B_M_W]

Gonna think about this for a while and come back and read it again.

[faust]

I feel, in my times here, that I can no longer speak about freedom. The inherited god lets out a small mumble and freedom==slavery, slavery==historical/archaic/useless. It still rings in my ears, like a real shitty punk concert or a bomb in the shopping mall none of which are really favoured: just truths. Freedom does not exist. Freedom is another type of restraintive control. You are not the masters of your own lives, you are not the architects of your own fate.

I think you put too much on emphasis on this, making it sound very harsh. even its true it doesn't matter, it was always gonna be the journey over becoming absolutely free.
people could'nt cross the Atlantic on their own, but we construct tools to break down the barriers, and have others to aid us on the quest, a ship wouldn't work very well without a crew.
I like to think I am master of my life on my corner, yes a lot of things could take it away from me and ultimately will one way or another, but I like to think I collect little freedoms as time goes by, however unstable and transitory they might be.

[Sepia]

I feel, in my times here, that I can no longer speak about freedom. The inherited god lets out a small mumble and freedom==slavery, slavery==historical/archaic/useless. It still rings in my ears, like a real shitty punk concert or a bomb in the shopping mall none of which are really favoured: just truths. Freedom does not exist. Freedom is another type of restraintive control. You are not the masters of your own lives, you are not the architects of your own fate.

I think you put too much on emphasis on this, making it sound very harsh. even its true it doesn't matter, it was always gonna be the journey over becoming absolutely free.
people could'nt cross the Atlantic on their own, but we construct tools to break down the barriers, and have others to aid us on the quest, a ship wouldn't work very well without a crew.
I like to think I am master of my life on my corner, yes a lot of things could take it away from me and ultimately will one way or another, but I like to think I collect little freedoms as time goes by, however unstable and transitory they might be.

I've never really found the troof to matter much as when I've seen it and discovered it and when I've seen some of my friends doing the exact same thing they still do the same things they've always done and probably counter-acting the truth they've discovered. No man is an island but all of humanity is a collection of islands linked together by reefs, shipwrecks, bridges, roads or they share a common history of having been attacked by the same natural disasters. They share and communicate but always retrospectively when being hit by a disaster.

For me, freedom is another degree of control because noone seems to think that they can get truly free, which excludes you but includes people I deal with on a daily basis. Take the scene in V for Vendetta for instance when V breaks Evey down and makes her free herself and the line "Who's hold me here? Me!" echoes. Freedom, for most people, is an epiphany with the wrong label on the bottle. Freedom is a word while the feeling that freedom brongs forth is a feeling. You know it when it happens. As far as I see it, freedom can be attained without ever breaking down barriers, it is a mental state.

Everyone I know, myself included is a product. We've been marketed and are marketing ourselves, we pick systems from advertising, kung fu and everywhere else and apply it on ourselves and how we view the world. When advertisers began speaking of positioning as a viable means of promoting and controlling a company or a brand, those who wrote that theory then began applying the same rules on a personal level before writing a book about that also, testing out the cynicism of marketing on more difficult to define products, but products none the less. The same systems that control the yearly plans for mcdonalds have also become the same systems that we use to plan for how we attain freedom, nirvana, heaven or any other utopian state.

It is what we learn. It is there that the most important lessons lie, it's not that 2+2=4 but it is in the how, the mechanics that we don't really pay attention to but when we are in a situation that we either feel or think is basically the same as 2+2=4 we apply the same kind of logic and try to solve the problem or non-problem in the exact same way making us a product that can be predicted.


Did that make any sense or am I rambling?