News:

If you can't abuse it, it's not power.

Main Menu

the conjunction of spheres

Started by Sepia, February 14, 2020, 06:07:16 PM

Previous topic - Next topic

Sepia

Of children caught, benevolent hate, mother: dung of hades here I stand ready for redemption, emptified of benevolent love hollowed heart hallowed heart hustling heroics wholeheartedly; harken and hear his holy words, his wholly words his woolly hords drink too me a chance a leper understanding of the what and the where and we are the why walking talking consuming here we are, supporters of a never-ending economical growth because the new belief is that we are infinite as we were made in the image of someone infinite so we should be infinite and the 1% should be infinite

Tend to your garden, friend, make it all grow furthur or rip it up, stems and roots, burn it all and douse the entirety in glyphosate and start a new garden, build this new civilization here, amongst flowering cacti and magnolias

The world is beautiful, life itself is beautiful, a heart is beautiful a mind too. Forgotten how we as humans are humans towards eachother but life imitates art and art imitates life and both of them imitates tv - zingers and stupid jokes meant to drive a narrative with plotholes forward becomes everyday communcation and the jingles of early advertisement has become the hits we hear on the radio, brave music for a brave new world

what secret was kept within the hieroglyphics, such a truth that we once more revert to it, being cheapened by it while we see babel built by emojis

into earth do we fall, in this earth we have fallen, broken strands of hate delivering us cheering us hoisting empty shells into the air celebrating them as gods, we have become structured rodents of decay an embodiment of the cockroach, nuclear war and nuclear winter and when we disappear our waste disappears and the cockroaches having survived annihilation from splitting atoms will dwindle and die for we are not there to be the virii they need, viruses with shoes
shatter me mother for my pride shatter me father for my hubris, we were always icarus and never, we flew too close to the sun but our goals were different we wanted to go beyond the sun and if anyone questioned us why we'd have a million answers and none of them would be true for like a virus we wouldn't admit that to ourselves we merely wanted to spread

the city of R'lyeh is in us, not in our oceans, not out there but in here (points to the heart/brain/soul) for in a shyamalan twist we are the predators, we are the monsters and the audience scream a surprise when our monstresses turn out to be just that and we are not one spaceship, there are noone driving the bus and it isnt going further

there is no sense in what we make, what we do, who we are and what we create, there is no sense of identity or purpose for all these billion lives, we are not rudderless for we never had a rudder to begin with, we are not lost for we have never been found, we are not found for we have never been lost and we are giants as much as we are dwarves

and all that we are is shit and blood
Everyone will always be too late