novel
Hey so I decided to write a novel. Or at least the beginning of one. I will post the prologue here but then I won't show anyone anything til its finished, if it ever will be.
.
Untitled Prologue:
.
"Oh don't flatter yourself, you ignorant fool. These insects don't care about you."
He had lain there in the summer grass floating in an immaterial ocean when suddenly these words interrupted his playful mind. A few insects
had crept along his way and he had, playful as he was, contemplated what they might have thought of him. Gleeful images appeared in his
fantasies, where the insects considered him a grand and humble being - majestic even - whose wisdom was utterly beyond theirs; he thought so, for he knew that this was how he himself would have considered a grand being of equivalent might. And it was right there, as his ideal self served generous dictator to his accepting followers, that the powerful voice crushed the illusive glass, and reality turned into a dark and empty room. He thought for a while, walking to and fro in the room which he now had determined to be quite small, and then he answered the invisible one:
"I do not know who you are or where you have come from. Least of all do I know why you have sought me, but in this short period of miracles I have witnessed, you are the lesser. Do you mean to say that they would look at me with disgust for all which I and my race have done towards them? I really don't think that insects understand concepts such as pollution or industrialization. It seems to me that these insects would rather appreciate or perhaps fear the incredible might of my being as compared to theirs, does it not?"
His eyes had slowly started to regain some sight, and he could clearly discern a large sculpture of a face, gazing down upon him from the
ceiling. It spoke again, and he thought it more fearsome this time:
"Do you really expect these insects to pay attention to You? Do you think they even know of your existence as a complete and alive being? Do
you even think they comprehend any concept beyond their material world of primitive instinct? These beings, which your race has simply
chosen to classify as "alive", are not capable of grasping the concept of good or bad, nor are they able to fathom feelings such as "majestic" or "powerful", these ideas are exclusive to the human race - on this planet at least. You are perceived by them as a giant moving object, as large as their frame of vision allows you to be. And such is the irony of intellect; you, as an intelligent being, consider the primitive insect as having a part of your greatness, as being alive, while the insect remains completely ignorant of your vast reality, and sees you as even lower than itself. And similarly, does the modern man fail to see the might of an even larger congregation of the psyche - a society if you will - of the mind. You are nothing to the insects, as you are nothing to the world, and you must realize this for the process to begin."
"Are you my burning bush? My great revelation? Is this the message I should bring about to the world?"
"Associating me with any sort of deity is perhaps aesthetically delicious but far from the truth - your truth, at least. And again, don't
flatter yourself; your revelation isn't at all prophetic, for prophecies, are one sided."
"Why else have you then come to me, if not to channel your will to bring about truth among the people?"
"Don't be so dramatic, I came because you decided that I would. I came because you created me. I am but the glimpse of the eternal in your
otherwise material mind. But I am also the very Satanic force you need in order to act and create. I am everything, yet only a fraction of
your mind."
**
The reality which I was now beginning to doubt came rushing back to me. I was totally baked out of my mind, and the guys were sitting there
as if nothing had happened.
.
"Oh don't flatter yourself, you ignorant fool. These insects don't care about you."
.
He had lain there in the summer grass floating in an immaterial ocean when suddenly these words interrupted his playful mind. A few insects had crept along his way and he had, playful as he was, contemplated what they might have thought of him. Gleeful images appeared in his fantasies, where the insects considered him a grand and humble being - majestic even - whose wisdom was utterly beyond theirs; he thought so, for he knew that this was how he himself would have considered a grand being of equivalent might. And it was right there, as his ideal self served generous dictator to his accepting followers, that the powerful voice crushed the illusive glass, and reality turned into a dark and empty room. He thought for a while, walking to and fro in the room which he now had determined to be quite small, and then he answered the invisible one:
.
"I do not know who you are or where you have come from. Least of all do I know why you have sought me, but in this short period of miracles I have witnessed, you are the lesser. Do you mean to say that they would look at me with disgust for all which I and my race have done towards them? I really don't think that insects understand concepts such as pollution or industrialization. It seems to me that these insects would rather appreciate or perhaps fear the incredible might of my being as compared to theirs, does it not?"
.
His eyes had slowly started to regain some sight, and he could clearly discern a large sculpture of a face, gazing down upon him from the ceiling. It spoke again, and he thought it more fearsome this time:
.
"Do you really expect these insects to pay attention to You? Do you think they even know of your existence as a complete and alive being? Do you even think they comprehend any concept beyond their material world of primitive instinct? These beings, which your race has simply chosen to classify as "alive", are not capable of grasping the concept of good or bad, nor are they able to fathom feelings such as "majestic" or "powerful", these ideas are exclusive to the human race - on this planet at least. You are perceived by them as a giant moving object, as large as their frame of vision allows you to be. And such is the irony of intellect; you, as an intelligent being, consider the primitive insect as having a part of your greatness, as being alive, while the insect remains completely ignorant of your vast reality, and sees you as even lower than itself. And similarly, does the modern man fail to see the might of an even larger congregation of the psyche - a society if you will - of the mind. You are nothing to the insects, as you are nothing to the world, and you must realize this for the process to begin."
.
"Are you my burning bush? My great revelation? Is this the message I should bring about to the world?"
.
"Associating me with any sort of deity is perhaps aesthetically delicious but far from the truth - your truth, at least. And again, don't flatter yourself; your revelation isn't at all prophetic, for prophecies, are one sided."
.
"Why else have you then come to me, if not to channel your will to bring about truth among the people?"
.
"Don't be so dramatic, I came because you decided that I would. I came because you created me. I am but the glimpse of the eternal in your otherwise material mind. But I am also the very Satanic force you need in order to act and create. I am everything, yet only a fraction of your mind."
.
**
.
The reality which I was now beginning to doubt came rushing back to me. I was totally baked out of my mind, and the guys were sitting there as if nothing had happened.
.
(The dots are ridiculous but necessary because the combination between my computer and this shitty site is horrible)
PlusFather
A Society of Devils indeliberately forced upon them the oppressive mask of the Jesuite mind.
Satan, whose somatic realm grows stronger with each day, came unto me with a seductive smile. The ordered chaos, the one true pillar within an ocean of instinctual rage and lust - seemed rather amused by what he saw, when he finally got a chance to enter our Home. A sanctuary of peace within the eternal battle of good and evil. A final place to conquer, Satan thought.
In the peaceful room sat God on his mighty throne, gazing exhaustedly on the events below. The throne, which had served seat for the Holy Father for several aeons, was incredibly large in contrast and seemed to devour the tiny Lord of Virtue. Its shape and size told of a time much more prosperous for the Holy ones and perhaps it was even so, that once God was actually so vast as to fill hius majestic seat.
So they met, Satan and God, in what was their first encounter since the Puppeteer wars, in the most unlikely of places: The House of the Congregation of Man. The new abstract divinity who has broken free from the one sidedness of the dualist legions.
...
A Society of Devils indeliberately forced upon them the oppressive mask of the Jesuite mind.
.
Satan, whose somatic realm grows stronger with each day, came unto me with a seductive smile. The ordered chaos, the one true pillar within an ocean of instinctual rage and lust - seemed rather amused by what he saw, when he finally got a chance to enter our Home. A sanctuary of peace within the eternal battle of good and evil. A final place to conquer, Satan thought.
.
In the peaceful room sat God on his mighty throne, gazing exhaustedly on the events below. The throne, which had served seat for the Holy Father for several aeons, was incredibly large in contrast and seemed to devour the tiny Lord of Virtue. Its shape and size told of a time much more prosperous for the Holy ones and perhaps it was even so, that once God was actually so vast as to fill hius majestic seat.
.
So they met, Satan and God, in what was their first encounter since the Puppeteer wars, in the most unlikely of places: The House of the Congregation of Man. The new abstract divinity who has broken free from the one sidedness of the dualist legions.
.
...
Lord Geezer McCarnage
Unfounded and unenvisioned, lay the thousand paper shards strewn across the unmade bed, as if to symbolize the very futility of its mere existence. Skye thought to herself, what if all of this which is crossing my mind right now, is in reality just a beautiful extension of my extraordinary self? What if all of this, which I have labeled as good or bad in the worldly induced process of compartmentalizing the brain, is only temporary, and not infinite truth? What if all of this which I have preached and fought for, is just a malevolent trick played upon me by the abstract Gods of our time, and that I have been losing out on a life, much greater than this one ever could be.
.
Skye walked onwards contemplating the very foundations of her disproved existence
.
DOT
.
Honoraries of my presidence, reputed of my council and hailed by my masses - I present to thee the most epic of quotes from the most epic of series.
.
This quote is from Six Feet Under (sorry rab :/), and is not of the spoiling kind. IT is simply a part of a minor discussion of no relevance to the plot whatsoever. This is indeed also what makes it so important to show - THIS is just what their simple dialogue is like - YOU SHOULD SEE THE PLOT! It is hands down the best thing I've ever seen so far...
.
Billie Says:
.
"You know, there are plenty of places where a kid dying is pretty common, but we can't handle that because a dead child is the greatest failure to a culture that believes that it has reversed the order of nature..."
.
It doesn't sound as good when written and out of context... fuck :/ awesome fucking series though :D
Problem, officer?
The problem lies within, and herein lies the problem
You are the problem, for not willing to trust enough
I am the problem, for not being able to give enough
You are my problem
My objective and my goal
As I am yours
We are together the problem
When we cannot seem to act
Leaving the world as an unfinished dish
Claiming that we are satisfied
And truly full
The world is the problem
For not letting us eat
Till our needs are fully met
And our bellies fully fed
That we may walk away
In silence
The problem is very problematic
And indeed very frustrating
For to overcome the problem
One must prevail alone
Against the first of its doubled faces
And only wish, that beyond reality's curtain
The second falls as well
Until the wall is torn apart turning two into one - making the world just a tiny bit more crystalline
[nonser]
You are the problem, for not willing to trust enough
I am the problem, for not being able to give enough
You are my problem
My objective and my goal
As I am yours
We are together the problem
When we cannot seem to act
Leaving the world as an unfinished dish
Claiming that we are satisfied
And truly full
The world is the problem
For not letting us eat
Till our needs are fully met
And our bellies fully fed
That we may walk away
In silence
The problem is very problematic
And indeed very frustrating
For to overcome the problem
One must prevail alone
Against the first of its doubled faces
And only wish, that beyond reality's curtain
The second falls as well
Until the wall is torn apart turning two into one - making the world just a tiny bit more crystalline
[nonser]
so fucked up :)
A sinister saint laughs at me from her marble throne. Green gadgets have arrived alongside the merchant caravans. Naked souls fade into their ecstatic dream world, as the material world around them lumbers on.
Today I stood face to face with a squirrel. It looked at me as if it had first been doing something secretive and very devious being caught in the act, and it didn’t seem to move for minutes. As I daringly challenged the beast, it escaped my mighty clutches and disappeared beyond my sight. I said: squirrel beast! If that is indeed thy true name, or the name you have chosen to bear; I challenge thee! Thou shalt see that thy wicked attempts prove futile against my minion mind. My underlings will defeat you AND I SHALL not equip the power of physical strength, for that is indeed beyond a human. I shall defeat thee with wit, as is the legacy of my race.
iStory.
I just returned from a marvelous journey. I had left the bed with an artifact in my hand. After feigning a friend’s call so as to trick my silenced mother, I went out to be greeted by an astonishing sight. Awestricken and shaken as I was, I enjoyed what I understood to be the warmest evening (pronouncing the second “e”) of this year cycle. Jolleeing my way across the orange lit streets I at last reached the town square, which was empty and very comfortable. The few people traveling by seemed mindless of my mere existence and continued on their frustrating lives. Oh how wonderful it was to share the air with such dignified beings.
I laughed and gently tread into what would be my home for the remainder of the season, wrote this, and went to sleep eating a Michael Cookie.
Goodnight my loved
f34r
I fear not who they blame
I fear who they elect
And all which they protect
I fear the Leviathan
Whose shade alone blinds continents
And whose voice can be heard
All across the earthly hive
I fear their preachings
of a better world
In peace and harmony
And how they seek to achieve it
By defeating us
And impose upon us
The one and only truth
I fear for my life
And for my own individual existence
That their earthly omnipotence
Will one day touch me
I fear because I know
That all I consider to be life
And all I consider to be beautiful
Will be cultivated and controlled
Until all of mankind
Exists as emptied bodies
In an empty world
drunken fool
Saluting the new day
Deep into the vulture eye
I am currently sitting here, all fucked up on yesterday's splendid festivities, trying to reorganize the particles of my brain so as to open anew, the gates of my mind.
It was a calm Thursday evening and five peculiar fellows wandered the empty streets of Stockholm. Empty, and deprived of any colours. For such is the nature of societies; it manipulates people into GlobAl simply by touching the very wet parts of our Selves; by giving us each an opportunity to fulfill a spectacular dream glorified and distorted beyond proportion. And such is the mind of the people, that we would much rather annihilate whatever peripheral attributes we might have, fearing the hatred of the Great Monolith, than to keep colouring, and recouloring ourselves in a world thirsting for beauty. We tell our inner morality that we can keep these deviant thoughts, as long as we conceal them in the eyes of the monolith. The problem with this reasoning, however, is that thoughts need interact with other thoughts, lest they fade away of lose their meanings - freedom is a great example of that.
It was to feed this hatred of the whole, we ventured towards the... "Ericsson"... Globe. And so the Fivefecta danced the second tune away as we sat astonished by this great wall.
iLead - iFollow - iProtect - iResist - iProfit - iLose
Images of war beamed out of the wall as psychedelic animations numbed our senses. A battle between the flowers showed the genderal tensions of society, and how the two sexes act. Of course it went deeper than this though. For it showed how the "penis flower" at first penetrated the mother with brute force as the world plunged into war and death only to switch to a different scenario yet in which the female flower devours the male -
This is where we are now. The negative, the female, the preserving forces of nature are becoming our doctrine, as we move away from our entrepenurial, capitalist, male past. For capitalism shall not withstand the incredible static force of the Global Altruism. For the flesh of the world is one - and we all consist of it - should we not then honor it by releasing our hubris and become one with Brahman?
What had been the greatest aesthetic experience of my life was over and phatties guided our way to bed.
As the grey morning sun caressed my eyes with its dulling rays, I traveled alone through the underground transfer system. Suddenly, and without warning, nine months of my life flashed by and receded into the dark corners of my memory. Emotions grew, as unborn children, for nine months only to flood my reality. It was not bad at all - in fact, it was great. It's just that... I am so excrutiatingly exhausted.
And Roger Waters' voice trembles within me: "Tear down the wall!"
I don't know if I should...
I am currently sitting here, all fucked up on yesterday's splendid festivities, trying to reorganize the particles of my brain so as to open anew, the gates of my mind.
.
It was a calm Thursday evening and five peculiar fellows wandered the empty streets of Stockholm. Empty, and deprived of any colours. For such is the nature of societies; it manipulates people into GlobAl simply by touching the very wet parts of our Selves; by giving us each an opportunity to fulfill a spectacular dream glorified and distorted beyond proportion. And such is the mind of the people, that we would much rather annihilate whatever peripheral attributes we might have, fearing the hatred of the Great Monolith, than to keep colouring, and recouloring ourselves in a world thirsting for beauty. We tell our inner morality that we can keep these deviant thoughts, as long as we conceal them in the eyes of the monolith. The problem with this reasoning, however, is that thoughts need interact with other thoughts, lest they fade away of lose their meanings - freedom is a great example of that.
.
It was to feed this hatred of the whole, we ventured towards the... "Ericsson"... Globe. And so the Fivefecta danced the second tune away as we sat astonished by this great wall.
.
iLead - iFollow - iProtect - iResist - iProfit - iLose
.
Images of war beamed out of the wall as psychedelic animations numbed our senses. A battle between the flowers showed the genderal tensions of society, and how the two sexes act. Of course it went deeper than this though. For it showed how the "penis flower" at first penetrated the mother with brute force as the world plunged into war and death only to switch to a different scenario yet in which the female flower devours the male -
.
This is where we are now. The negative, the female, the preserving forces of nature are becoming our doctrine, as we move away from our entrepenurial, capitalist, male past. For capitalism shall not withstand the incredible static force of the Global Altruism. For the flesh of the world is one - and we all consist of it - should we not then honor it by releasing our hubris and become one with Brahman?
.
What had been the greatest aesthetic experience of my life was over and phatties guided our way to bed.
.
As the grey morning sun caressed my eyes with its dulling rays, I traveled alone through the underground transfer system. Suddenly, and without warning, nine months of my life flashed by and receded into the dark corners of my memory. Emotions grew, as unborn children, for nine months only to flood my reality. It was not bad at all - in fact, it was great. It's just that... I am so excrutiatingly exhausted.
.
And Roger Waters' voice trembles within me: "Tear down the wall!"
.
I don't know if I should...
swear not by the moon, the inconstant moon
And Yester's snow is being forced down its mother earth. For this is the reign of the SUN, AND NO ONE shall contest it!
-
On further notes, the fivefecta has come into play. After being introduced horribly by a drawn el clasico grande (with defeat on aggregate), I worried that its glory might be harmed in some way. However, the Fivefecta is currently dancing under her lovely sun and grieves not for disappointments in the past.
-
The fivefecta, for all you wonderers out there, is a five day streak of leisure from school spiced with all kinds of wonders, the first being the glorious pilgrimage to King's town tomorrow.
-
And we shall see, that we need not education, nor thought control.
Pleasant meetings
Okay so the game is ON! No more "just around the corners", cause its fucking ON. And so the countdown to the 24th begins, as last year, in a time of fatal importance for the empire as a whole.
But first, trivialities: Today two Major Cunts of the bueracratic hive presented themselves unto us in their poorly masked forms. They did so in good will, they told us, constantly reassuring us of the parental love, under the influence of which they supposedly acted. Although they very much resembled each other in tone and general morality, the two whores slightly differed in the fact that one seemed to be brought there only for "muscle" (Being a broad shouldered rotting beast(don't forget fat)), while the crowned CUNT herself did the preaching. Disregarding all the pure dry nonsense coming out of the teethy abyss she disturbingly enough calls her "kitteh", there was not much said. All her man hating fangs managed to do was to send horrific shivers down us commoners' spines.
What was actually said was basically this:
1. Your graduation isn't yours; rather, it belongs to your friends and family. I.e, thou shalt not commit rulecrime, lest thou want to bring upon thine children the pain of aeges.
2. Commit rulecrime, and thou shalt face one of following, indeed very dire, consequenses:
Drink, and thou shalt enter a sobering clinique.
Vandalize, and thou shalt be identified photo digitally afterwhich a giant ransom must be paid.
Tent, and thou SHALT BE SHUNNED FROM THINE HOME AND BE BROUGHT TO FUCKING JUSTICE
3. Be careful with your suits and dresses - They are the most important things IN
YOUR
ENTIRE
FUCKING
LIFE
Fuck NV, Fuck Vh, FUCK QUEEN CUNTFANG THE MDCLXVIth (wow, it makes use of all the roman numerals... huh)
I did that because the sixes in this blog turns to fucking b's :/
6 see?
may may may, i love today
But first, trivialities: Today two Major Cunts of the bueracratic hive presented themselves unto us in their poorly masked forms. They did so in good will, they told us, constantly reassuring us of the parental love, under the influence of which they supposedly acted. Although they very much resembled each other in tone and general morality, the two whores slightly differed in the fact that one seemed to be brought there only for "muscle" (Being a broad shouldered rotting beast(don't forget fat)), while the crowned CUNT herself did the preaching. Disregarding all the pure dry nonsense coming out of the teethy abyss she disturbingly enough calls her "kitteh", there was not much said. All her man hating fangs managed to do was to send horrific shivers down us commoners' spines.
What was actually said was basically this:
1. Your graduation isn't yours; rather, it belongs to your friends and family. I.e, thou shalt not commit rulecrime, lest thou want to bring upon thine children the pain of aeges.
2. Commit rulecrime, and thou shalt face one of following, indeed very dire, consequenses:
Drink, and thou shalt enter a sobering clinique.
Vandalize, and thou shalt be identified photo digitally afterwhich a giant ransom must be paid.
Tent, and thou SHALT BE SHUNNED FROM THINE HOME AND BE BROUGHT TO FUCKING JUSTICE
3. Be careful with your suits and dresses - They are the most important things IN
YOUR
ENTIRE
FUCKING
LIFE
Fuck NV, Fuck Vh, FUCK QUEEN CUNTFANG THE MDCLXVIth (wow, it makes use of all the roman numerals... huh)
I did that because the sixes in this blog turns to fucking b's :/
6 see?
may may may, i love today
good day, sunshine
Regardless of the chilly weather's contradictions, the fact remains that we've entered the holy lands of May. How is it that I can be so sure? It's not like I've had any access to a calendar or anything, and besides FUCK the calendar. Don't need it. Lady May always finds a way to sway her awe stricken audiences.
Brothers and sisters - no, I'm not GlobAl. - fellow mechanisms of medium divinity, is it not always obvious to you, when the angel of light is upon you? When summer enters the room and the dead dies away? How did she present herself to you, I wonder.
Sunday - I'm feeling dizzy
Brothers and sisters - no, I'm not GlobAl. - fellow mechanisms of medium divinity, is it not always obvious to you, when the angel of light is upon you? When summer enters the room and the dead dies away? How did she present herself to you, I wonder.
Sunday - I'm feeling dizzy
MalFunk
Strange memories are swirling through the air
.
Today it's May and the gnomes will find another way to say... hoooray. I feel how my mind is coming back from its winter daze and I feel that I am ready to enter the extatic dance of the sun.
.
The dysfunctioning man with the many faces conquered the innards of my defenses in the land of tolerance yester; its battering manipulation and twisted hypocrisy fought at the very feet of my innermost castle. Arch angel Snap had to descend unto us and restore order.
-
I am fading
Afternoon tea
There are times when certain songs spring to life to create the beautiful illusion of hope
.
I look out my window to see the different realities out there. Two complex beings, cellular hives, are walking amidst their inferior kinsmen, laughing and cheering.
.
The sun burns mighty a flame atop the velvet skies, as leaves appear creating a vast green mist to shroud our lands. Women, reborn anew into their purest form, dancing amongst the colourful fields of flowers. The spring time has come and we must all succumb to its glory.
.
My wings are already crafted - in the forge of the brood beast
-
O.O
of life
Son, can you feel the freshness in the air?
.
Real Madrid are getting a hold on the Clasico series as crazed April marches onwards. The Auntmother has returned to bestow oppression upon the mere commonfolk, as the enterprising machines struggle mechanically to reach their optimal states.
.
Fresh and clean. No more taint. So... free
.
The holy sun rises high above the Swedish skies, turning brown into green (ha) and forests into mysteries. Roaring beasts have occupied the once so pure metal streets, and we must all face ourselves.
.
So... tired
wobbleth
All hail the daze!
Followers of the blaze
Smoke the leaves from the mighty stem
Wake up, it's 4.20 p.m
.
I know not of thine plans for world domination. All they told me, in their pitiful orgy of coexistence, was that you were somehow connected with the fearsome league of trinities.
-
Still up? Gotosleep!
inhaleexhale
Yesterday's crisps lie strewn across the morning lit floors. Beams of energy pierce through the windows and fall gently upon my cheek. It is warm, and very beautiful, and I wish deerly to venture out to play. But with whom? And doing what? People, including me, do not seem to recall how to do such things anymore.
.
It is beautiful, but still I cannot somehow shake that unsettling smell of dried tobacco that has lately become quite prominent in my once so sterile lands. It was a good night after all. I went to bed too early, and woke up just in time to this haze. I tried to watch a movie, a really good one at that, but it failed me. Then I tried reading, but I fell asleep. Now I'll try something else, with little or no hopes of successs-
.
Still we breathe
World Tourettes
A sleeping wizard, wrapped in bed
Magic wands, and eyes so red-
.
So that's what's going on over here, in sunny sunny Homeplace! The petty roar of the garden machine outside is causing a sort of tingling in my Reality and I do not yet know whether I want it to proceed or not. Probably not. It's a rather hellish sound WHEN ONE'S TRYING TO FUCKING SLEEP-
.
On further notes my tourettes has gone down. I can now talk normally to most people, and should I turn into cursing/screaming, well, then it is by choice, rather than not being able to control myself.
.
Woah, the sounds are really turning infernal out there. The whatevermachine is exploding in a dub step like haze and I need to drink some sunlight before the darkness wakes up.
goof
illusive
A popular "philosophical" question in our day is that of the half full/half empty glass. It is used a philosophical barometer for deciding whether one is an optimist or a cynic. I often hear my anty surroundings replying to this question with a sort of strange resolution, which grows stronger with their stupidity. They think that, well no they don't, but rather, they pretend to think that someone considering a glass half full is an optimist and vice versa.
lol
dis heer how it shud be
Optimist: The glass is half full when I'm thirsty, and half empty when I'm not
Cynic: The glass is half emptied when thirsty and half full when not.
The realist knows that the glass is either of those, both of those and none of those all the same.
pseudo apathos
Sitting by a lonesome river, or climbing up a deer trodden path in the middle of spring, one can either contemplate the foundations of the universe, or fall into a metamorphal trance. There's not that much separating the two, really. Both are a sort of cosmic connection, expressed in different ways.
One can often at these moments feel the presence of the self. As if our very souls can sense their own metaphysical shapes. The self is here divided into two primal personalities, the collaboration of which results in the individual's own personality. One strong, one weak. One positive, one negative. One constructive, one destructive.
One pius worshipper of God.
One heden servant of Satan.
We can often experience ourselves by conversing with it. All thoughts derive from and are bult upon these conversations. It is the voice figuring out the consequenses of your actions as well as the voice telling you to break loose.
In accepting the self as the central figure of the universe, one can achieve alot. As an individual God-entity, a human being can rise to spiritual heights, unfathomable to all those who dared not dreaming. However, to abandon the humanity constant, i.e the notion that other humans are in fact other "beings" and are not just bricks in one's material utopia, is a very unstable choice. Why? Because with this follows basically ALL other illusions; be it goodness, love, trust - all those things that grant life its unpredictability - the same unpredictability that led us to this beautiful state of mind.
No, the self must never become more than the central figure. It mustn't devour the illusions floating about in the perifery. That is, of course, if not the rather admirable apathy is the actual destination of one's journey.
Though there are far too many hypocrites wearing the cloak of apathy, in order to gain illusive success. It is my duty to expose them. Ha-ha duty. . . what a silly word.
One can often at these moments feel the presence of the self. As if our very souls can sense their own metaphysical shapes. The self is here divided into two primal personalities, the collaboration of which results in the individual's own personality. One strong, one weak. One positive, one negative. One constructive, one destructive.
One pius worshipper of God.
One heden servant of Satan.
We can often experience ourselves by conversing with it. All thoughts derive from and are bult upon these conversations. It is the voice figuring out the consequenses of your actions as well as the voice telling you to break loose.
In accepting the self as the central figure of the universe, one can achieve alot. As an individual God-entity, a human being can rise to spiritual heights, unfathomable to all those who dared not dreaming. However, to abandon the humanity constant, i.e the notion that other humans are in fact other "beings" and are not just bricks in one's material utopia, is a very unstable choice. Why? Because with this follows basically ALL other illusions; be it goodness, love, trust - all those things that grant life its unpredictability - the same unpredictability that led us to this beautiful state of mind.
No, the self must never become more than the central figure. It mustn't devour the illusions floating about in the perifery. That is, of course, if not the rather admirable apathy is the actual destination of one's journey.
Though there are far too many hypocrites wearing the cloak of apathy, in order to gain illusive success. It is my duty to expose them. Ha-ha duty. . . what a silly word.
paralell objectives. Schi-.-.-.-zo
If this is how it is going to be, then its not going to be.
Cut
Off
..
For now..
Cut
Off
..
For now..
