What to pray for

[Sepia]

It should do more than harden your heart, it should bring something more than a soul icing, easing off like a beer in the sun, feeling entropy clinging to us as the beer grows luke and we grow hotter, feeling like fog, Emilys fog, rising


We listen to the music we would have listened to if we were the children today and we see the past again and it feels off, it feels different because its like a scent memory but there is no scent, no lingering perfume only bland hard guitar based music with people singing about nothing and they are the same bands we listened to as we raged against the world, we grow some of our bands in vats and that would be something I couldve said, putting the blame on some conspiracy controlling what we listen to

The worst trait a thinker can have is to believe in conspiracies. Conspiracies make you lazy and dumb, conspiracies make your eyes glass, conspiracies are the opium for the fringe, conspiracies are the tv, a recliner and a sixer of swivel, doesnt matter what it is as long as its easy, like this world aint, like the things we know to be true because weve pieced them together, these jigsaws that have littered our lives and we are special people, we are men in a position with knowledge and we have a responsibility to tell the world about it, we love to see the reactions, the arguments, the discussions but the only reason that we go out of our internet hideouts and talk about the big uncontrollable is that were searching for just a little tit, so we can fall fast asleep

The biological imperative is always there, thought forgotten but not. A dream that is always there, a shadow in the divine heart of it. Do not believe because others do, that is not a part of the biological imperative and there is where we build, our world an empire, a colossal spire in the heart of a machine planet inside a vortex inside a dream asking what is the meaning of life

We sing songs of deeds done, we sing songs of reassurance, songs of warmth, rememberance, love- operas where the duke loves a commoner trying to overthrow slavery and bring the second coming of christ but is backstabbed by kin/lover/enemy, musicals about travelling to your terrible grandparents on a rainy sunday but before you get there the car breaks down, charitable locals lend they your barn and dress you up in farmland clothes and you eat real food and it ends with you all living on the farm forever and then we resurrect the beatles and they play every thought that ever popped into their heads

but the vortex and the the dream are not appeased and they do not know the meaning of life but we know that they know and they think us better

in their confusion