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Messages - Sepia

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1
we, the rudderless

a child to linger and dreams to die in a shelter along the river one man two cups of coffee a horse on the outside and a sasquatch with a rope around his neck eating hay waiting for his masters return one of them breathes still and it smells like master

we should never abandon our shame we should transform it transport it but never to remove from our repertoire, suppression of it only extends the time we need to cling to it like the tedium of life we need to cling to, to make it seem worth, something more than the hollowness we feel when we think it's how life is but it is a slump, a depression, something wrong with us and our outlook because everyone keeps saying that everything will get better as long as we shoulder the burden, did you read that article on the internet about that girl who was depressed but thought herself out of it she thought about sunshine and rainbows and people not meaning what they say and strangers with differing political views discussing and debating, learning more and adjusting their own meanings, thanking their opponent for broadening their views, all in public with blitzes raining, live casted on twitch and the most important question is will you see the livestream or will you watch hasans reactions to the livestream, check the embedded chat for the poll which will only be up for 66.6 seconds and if you participate you'll get part of an nft where donald trump is all the participants of lemonparty

if you're lucky you might get part of his scrotum, i hear the scrotum market is up this year, joe rogans ass sold for an undisclosed sum by an anonymous oligarch based out of a palace by the black sea, upcoins are also up, musk bezos branson coins are all on the rise, they're all headed for up there and you know it will just turn out to be some shitty flick, like battle angel alita or some other middle-of-the-road concept because that's not safe enough, i mean we are talking about continuation of the human species, we are furthering humanity because we can and if these people are the visionaries that will define something then fuck it

i'd rather strap myself to their rocketcocks, hoping for enough idiots to do the same to weigh them down and keep them down and turn the narrative where they have no escape, where they are the prison and we are rorschach come launch day 1001 idiots lungs and eyes squish and collapse, happy smiling guntoting flagwaving assholes underneath, wishing the future good luck and getting spayed with blood shit cum earwax and the luckiest will catch a vial of scrotumjuice, handing it over solemnly to the monarch of united nations, selling it as an nft BUT NOW, limited time offering, available as an nft on 666 different blockchains, come on son, you gotta catch them all

I feel guilty, sometimes, occasionally because it feels like my fault, i was young you see once and i'd read something that i really wanted to understand because i wanted to be one of the few selects who understood something that famous critics did but others didnt, i was probably sixteen so it was pynchon, orwell, huxley, koestler and i'd probably started on beat because i wanted a world where nothing meant anything and earlier i was in a slump so i thunked about this and i understood i had just been sheltered, sorry for the pause there im just so high right now,  i had been sheltered all my life or pretty lucky or perhaps i hadnt been paying as much attention to politics as i should have but its always been like that

we've always been like that, it is who we are and i wish i had the tenacity and will to rejoin the part that truly cares but the timeframe for the human evolution is just too daunting, it is too enormous a silhoutte a contour like how you feel it when you are regressing projecting inwards on acid, the naked introspection but its not just you, its your elderly neighbour you shovel snow for that keeps muttering about them damned foreigners or your coworker who watches alex jones just for the lulz but then turns into him with pride/hubris and it falls, the fool forever falling out of the tower so drive like a demon

from station to station

2
Or Kill Me / sick zero sense
« on: November 30, 2021, 01:31:11 pm »
I see two women, one with a dick and one without and one of them tells me of the future and the other tells me about the past

then we burn.
terminator 2 dreams where waves of fire crash over humans, washing us away in a second flood, I know it is a dream because all I can think about is how much it smells like bacon, how it looks like pigs slumped over
poles sharpened in both ends at their side
we never had any other lord, gods and goddesses came and went, their offspring too, some were pure fiction but not until all religious awe had been spent and the ancient gods invoked by spell, manifesting as fiction in pulp magazines, the untarnished truth found among those with nothing but their own truths

dream and sleep and slumber, one thousand and one eyes/nights watches us as we fall into god as we fall into reality and nothing is a coincidence, only

this thought creates the presence

someone utters obedience is victory and victory is life and i look around and i join my brothers sisters and other siblings in the savage madness, screaming tekeli-li at the top of my lungs

here is our sickness, plain in view and like us it is plain, mundane no intrinsic meaning but for us it will carry the burden of meaning as we ascend/descend into light/dark because that is as far as we have gotten in this life/civilization/planets life
our alphabets contain many runes but still we write our minds with 0s and 1s

i keep having dreams from lives i didn't live

of dreams i never dreamt but mostly those lives, that emptiness within, heart to heart man-person child, blessed warrior and protector, bulwark of these great nations that still fight for sovereignity, cash instead of blood but other than that it is business as ususal in this heaven that will be sunk and the world above will become hell as man devolves and has to go the long route without a guiding light but prophets meant to spread confusion unto masses not yet prepared for confusion

no emancipation for any man in any age, nor woman or anything inbetween. a thirst for the new, a fear buried deep inside our minds, this fear of missing out that drives us into this brave new world, this fear that drives the richest of us to have 60s scifi visions of legacy and fate having read and reread foundation too many times having being banned from rec.arts.sf.tv.babylon5 we sell enough cars and we sell enough shit to quagmire us even further and then there is a sudden global shortage of snakes

and the refineries stand silent

we do not know what free is for we have never been free and we will never be free and this is the realization that drives our fear, this fear that will embed cocacolas image on the moon fired by ion cannons made by george lucas in a basement in mt. weather overseen by elon musk and operated by jeff bezos and they scream geronimo as they land on mars, all of them, all of the industrialists and the visionaries of this age, left and right, oil and tech, pharma and government

and claim it for humanity

3
Or Kill Me / from kether to malkuth
« on: May 14, 2021, 01:15:31 am »
the heart submits to golden fallacies, once sunk once sunken cities - leave them be down in their abyss for their magics and superstitional ways have no place up here in the light, the light of reason the light of science the light of god
there are churches in the abyss that tell their pupils that the world is ending because languages dies out, popular dialects deform and transition into something else but the king of atlantis knows that this is progression, this is time, the screams of the eternal machine is heard throughout the multiverse and it trudges forward once more, time

time will come to the king of atlantis and all his kin and they will be thrown up into the light once more as science is replaced

anger dreams of destiny, rage dreams of the tower

chains dream of freedom and the tower dreams sweet dreams about not falling, never needing to be caught, never needing to be quite so melodramatic again but it would be folly to deny what we currently (do not) understand as magic

as language devolves as language becomes guttural as language transforms into new shedding old, the king walks from his winter palace and the new sounds sound like the old sounds and every conversation every discussion becomes clear and the sweat runs like tears as we discharge are discharged into this

to be bribed to be buried, here under the tower, underneath the shadow

in thine kingdom, the shadows are long and no man speaks the truth and no man speaks a lie, we hear what we want to hear having perfected the reversed glossolalia, building the anti-tower of babel into the heart of every breathing soul as nobody understands, everything is a conversation about bros talking feelings and none understanding but everyone empathic enough to nod, weep and share something like we all share something and nothing means anything but we are never lonely just wishing we were alone

the kingdom, where magic and science exist in duality and in this impossible scenario we will still be dreaming utopian dreams


4
Or Kill Me / sprng
« on: March 22, 2021, 05:36:26 pm »
impatient, strolling through, stone cold through the fumes, stoned, cold through the fumes
fuming he, king cotton toiling amongst the bones of king cobweb, a destroyer for the new age building the churches for the old in the same soil in the same sand in the same salt in the same memories because as the clock keeps ticking nothing else does

i can sense the fear inside myself, i have forgotten but more importantly i have forgotten how to remember once i have forgotten so i can continue to build on what i am supposed to be and remember myself before i die and become one consciousness sharing tales from the lands of the living with everything else

sinking deliberately floating downwards huffing and puffing and as we drown we see the lights there in the end, attached to hope and hate, emerging from the water and from life we settle and coalesce as spirit moves through us

the fear is palatable

to live in fantasia is my only goal in life, this and the next under the iron fist of mickey mouse, a mouse cast in iron velvet, velvet iron with no revolver in sight to kill the mouse and end the eternal empire where walt disney is portrayed as hp lovecraft in the pantheon of the mouse and on the mouse throne sits mickey with donald at his side and all is good and all is well   eternal

we hurry with no purpose and slow with too much purpose, man will never find the perfect middle because why should we? questions left unanswered or answered by those who know the truth with a big the serving as a further perfect example for this train of thought that is ending now

i have no taste buds and i must eat

5
Principia Discussion / Re: Hi
« on: October 15, 2020, 02:58:33 pm »
Not often I venture out of or kill me but this place is sprawling harder than way back when and it was already pretty incomprehensible to me.

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Principia Discussion / Re: Hi
« on: October 15, 2020, 02:51:23 pm »
Likewise!

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Principia Discussion / Re: Hi
« on: October 15, 2020, 02:25:15 pm »
HI

8
Or Kill Me / hrt hd hp
« on: September 22, 2020, 06:45:43 pm »
i sat in the chair and the chair was mine
i sat in the chair and the chair wasn't mine

Selah!

look to windward look to inward look
see
touch
feel
intuition becoming more, survival instincts watered down by lack of wars happening in our gardens they are just in the backyards of those we use to live the life we feel is necessary for us, this proud culture, what a time to be alive - moons and mars and adventures with elon musk at the helm do you get that ken kesey  elon musk is driving the bus and its yellow and we will go further and we will do it quietly in one of elon musks chariots and we will do it green and ecologically sound as we power through the coal belt through the dark the black the pitch but we are white we are green and oh so white

(but only for the cameras)

stepping on the gas we vomit as the acid kicks in not the bicycle acid but the new and improved streamlined acid run through the pipes of capitalism and efficiency acid as a ritual evaporates and mysticism dwindles in one area but is moved into science man runs through the maze smashing one brick wall at a time knowing that some day he will be free to smash other walls and fences, man is the great liberator of bricks

i sat in the chair and the chair wasn't mine, it wasn't a very fine chair but it was good enough to hold my ass away from the floor and as i sat there i started to sing

and around me gathered all the deer of the forest and all the birds in the air the worms in the ground the foreign predatory species of the inlands waters the crassostrea gigas of all our seas

and as i sang they interrupted me told that it could be worse, you could be living in a banana republic they said and that was true and i remembered the life i might have had where i lived in a banana republic but that wasn't for me, banana monarchy babe

america get well

9
d


Cockatiel cock crow, crow magpie stones scissors papers

I have seen it, the future bright and gleaming, a shattered ship against the shores of nevermorewater the flying dutchman finally finding land and rest and humanitys shining landscape, a moose walking into the sunset colours so vibrant it should never be reproduced but spent, disposable art

ikea popup down at the docks, enjoy it pre-gentrification with swedish meatballs and dark-roasted peas 2 more weeks until starbucks

bene gesserit, whore-mother

something new will be born, some of use hope for wonderful others hope for dreadful but we all agree that it will be worse

we sit solemnly and pray as we face our mirror image, a pandemic potentially matching us, in mental fight we stand locked one will against one will, our brother will always be there, one more enemy we have made simply by existing and that will always be the enemy of poor, the downtrodden, the ill-educated that gives their wealth to those who hoard, dragons sitting in their lairs but less handsome than benedict

there is no difference between us and another virus

dead are we dogs and dreaming too


die and live and dream too, forget and become, obsess and possesss

join a posse; sing please brother sing no it doesnt matter if you cant sing sing with your voice i want to hear your beautiful tones, your beautiful dissonance, i want to live the dream butthole surfers dreamt when they tried to make an amp that would make you shit yourself, i just dont want to be there, i want to live interestingly vicariously

you can feel yourself so close, you can feel the shape and contour of you of me of I and you can feel the shape the contour of where you keep yourself from, a hidden id in a hidden room inside a hidden dream banging on a door somewhere, always heard like a rhythmic thump from somewhere and even when i walk without rhythm i feel the 60 bpm

10
Or Kill Me / smmr
« on: June 05, 2020, 11:11:11 pm »

i have dreamt the dream, lived the dream and forgotten the dream and I will dream it once more, live it and forget it, we will cycle our emotions, to and fro like a child skipping like hopscotch and i drank it for a while in my early tweens but then i was more of an irish man and the only thing i use whiskey for nowadays is torching pancakes for my nieces or irish, coffee
my dream was one of digressions, without soundtracks, the opposite of reality and filled with meaning so i made it my reality and i lived it until it became my reality also, there is a difference there and then it bled into each and other and once more i had forgotten so I kept watching myself and then it slid into observation and into apathy and it slides towards the maelstrom for some of us before we get it together before we remember

it rains and it feels hollow, it should feel more like a television moment with hot chocolate and blankets and something, something more than last time i saw the scene, it might have been ferrero rocher it might have been frozen pizza, it might have been the past and it might have been the future but i was stuck in the presence for all of it

i have      into enough realities, i have seen enough transgressions, i have seen so many different people do the exact same shit in so many different ways and they say theres variables but it feels binary, it should seem vibrant and filled with different dimensions but it doesnt matter if its alan moore or marjorie liu, it still looks flat

like earth

11
Or Kill Me / the conjunction of spheres
« on: February 14, 2020, 06:07:16 pm »
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

12
Or Kill Me / courting life
« on: November 16, 2019, 02:02:34 am »
We fulfill the needs of the dying before the living, we try, like the magnet on the fridge to become pizza but we don't want respect or the desire to be liked like those that came before us but we want to be accepted enough to get enough likes or retweets and we want the world to become digital because we've left this analog husk behind, we are trying to create artificial minds not to

There is nothing for us here, we are dead and singing, becoming and tracing our hearts and our minds with our words but we leave the actions out in the hallway, freezing clutching with their small hands the hope and desire


Selah, why are we moving?

Why aren't we dying why aren't we dead
why are we dying why are we dead
why

is a boring question when you can ask who when where who was there at the party that who was there at that president that wasnt a presidents inauguration when did it happen O M G i missed it when is it going down where is it where is

Where is it Selah? where are we? when are we? who are we? why are we


All these questions that you'll never get answered in your lifetime, your life, all their lives all their lifes, whatwhywhowherewhen is all part of what doesn't really matter because the same questions will come again and the answers will be same but with the variance of life and these questions are interesting in the start or just after you've had psychedelics or waking up to a next love, I used to like to think that we got these questions at junctions and crossroads or turning around in the cul de sac and I used to think they were there to bring us back into life when we have been in unlife for too long or to show us darkness when we had been sleeping in the light

to spark what we have once been, what we are and where we will be, to spark dreams and hopes and prayers, to spark the child in your eyes and the teenager in your brain, to live love and life ohgod you wonderful life, I ran over you with my old trabant and I didn't stop long, only long enough to hear you groan before I drove on out of my life and into, out of this


into the wasteland as the sun sets and I remember being human, all too human for all the wrong reasons as I gun into the wasteland with a glass of warm champagne in my hand

13
 we drank the dream when they told us they were the land of the free and for a while we believed them until they were all held hostage by one man and he said

"if I give you one message to hold in your hearts today, it's this: treat the word impossible as nothing more than motivation, relish the opportunity to be an outsider because it's the outsiders that change the world and who will make a real and lasting difference, the more that a broken system tells you that you're wrong the more certain you should be that you must keep pushing ahead you must keep pushing forward"


"In the field of psychology, the DunningKruger effect is a cognitive bias in which people mistakenly assess their cognitive ability as greater than it is. It is related to the cognitive bias of illusory superiority and comes from the inability of people to recognize their lack of ability. Without the self-awareness of metacognition, people cannot objectively evaluate their competence or incompetence."


We're high and drunk and on our fourth night or fifth day and we, like the man in the big white house and someone tells the story of how it once burnt and and we feel the lingering smoke before we refill the bowls and giggle and laugh and we, like the man in the big white house tell lies and yarns and stories and do not concern ourselves with sobering fact but as we think we discover we go into it politically and we feel our minds and brains kick and scream because we won't go there, we won't go over the lawn to the big white man in the big white house because it's burning, it's still burning and we hear the screams we see the children running from the village as the big white planes drop napalm and flyers(no room for food or supplies) and the man outside who spoke words we would have loved in a different context, he is burning

a bright white phosphorous

14
Or Kill Me / loop #2
« on: September 04, 2019, 08:40:14 pm »
We felt the movement from light to darkness as we will feel it again when we return once more as we travel the spheres jumping from worlds that have been to worlds that will be anchored in the worlds that are, here is our linearity as we perceive only one dimension at a time, we immerse ourselves in worlds that have been before we understand all that will be and while we go back and forth our minds

stop

and we learn all of the past before we return to the present forgetting the past moving into the future forgetting everything the future told us as we return to the past like a daydream interrupted and after a while we realize this is what is going on  a deep nagging fear in our minds that we have seen everything several times and in reality we are omnipotent

like pupae

15
Or Kill Me / droppings
« on: August 14, 2019, 05:29:59 pm »
we buy everything they sell in the hopes of not getting sold

we cherish the silence as the silent grow among us

we are idols scrawled from flesh carved into nothingness come hell or high water, to bring us this love I am the hate that courses through lord beelzebub
his restlessness too

what we are will widen, we will not become we will assimilate more so we can become more becoming less becoming of us, illuminous beings are we, crude matter


we died today all of us, everyone of us underneath the shadow of the tree of the tower of the will, the majesty revealed and descended from above us above the godhead above existence but for a while there it felt good, coloured rosy by the mid late 90s tech-optimism but it felt good back then when internet was a place of possibilities, back then we had the imagination but it was the tech setting the limits and now that we have the tech the imagination and creativity that originally made the web an interesting place has all been diluted, when was the last time you had a thought that wasn't placed there by them n epiphany online

we must move slower, think more but not as individuals but as one planet que captain planet theme

I'm going to kill you and then I'm going to eat you, all of you

I want you to find my truth

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