The world is white, spotless, free of dust and bacteria, a clean room where the future and past pass through and if man was bigger than he was he would control it. The problem with Huxley and Orwells dystopian nightmares is that it gives too much credit to us, to those who would govern, those who would hold the power and seize it but man is not bigger, rand was wrong in all but the notions of selfishness, man is less than we think we are, we are something less
We disappear between identities, label our friends in our minds phones and ims because theres so many of them now and perhaps in a few hundred years this is the time that sparked something greater than man but there is none driving the force through the ages, it moves along and is always there, in a bakers heart lies a musician dreaming and perhaps he seizes that dream and perhaps he succeeds in his dream, most likely he will fail because his concern is his audience, his peers, his images
He wants to give something back, a noble gesture birthed in him but did the same birth bring something else?
They say one should meditate upon what ones face was before they were born but I cant seem to recall what my face looked like two weeks ago, was there a beard or a stache or just a mess, three years ago, ten, how would you react if the you in the now met the you back then?
Questions tend to haunt. They grip you and shake you and toss you and you are under their thumb, they are masters of all, the key to the gate and the gate itself and as the masses break out and subjective important questions are on everyones mind, we would collapse. If everyone thought it through
Everyone is no valid tool of comparison
What do you do with the questions when they have you locked down, underneath fang and claw, an old friend seen seldom, always with a hard discourse, weird, changing because the conversations were lastly held ten years ago and things were different then but besides the mirror is the toilet and I sit crouched over it, vomit in there and my hand, searching for the little metal piece, that weird cross
that subjective truth
Wow... Impressive as always! Makes one think.