the strange empty space that lies between us, how i travelled that distance, alone and isolated, reaching out, desiring some form of reconciliation. gave away this, gave away that, for what, a terrible price, an endless wrath, the fury of the world. it's all so hard, so wearing and hateful.
doesn't hate just exhaust you? it exhausted me and now it's just a dying ember, yet for you it's the perpetual drive, age after age, irrational, pathological, it overwhelms everything, like an angry chaos.
language is inverted, passions enter dangerous zones, history hijacked and rewritten, conspiracy after conspiracy all unravel, ignoble endings pile outside the door until the very sun is blackened, the bones of the dead are not enough and never will be, not while there is life. it's life you want to extinguish. my life.
when you see a river of blood baby, does history matter?
time is a strange illusion, those tibetans we emulate were once brutal killers who tortured millions of chinese and now the chinese are brutal captors of tibet. what does this say?
you were born at one point and know only one point, yet your own existence is not one point, it's process within a process, an event. a 4 dimensional worm from inception to death, therefore perception is process to. baby it's is all insignificant in times ocean, karmic forces pull and push, cyclic patterns ebb and flow, but your own one single slice seems to be the sole focus of your attention, by proxy compassion. soon that compassion will appear abhorrent as the players are revealed, the forces of darkness are barbaric yet still you wave their flag, the forces of darkness will kill your babies, will stone your women, will execute your christ, buddha, goddess, spaghetti monster, the forces of darkness are the black sun incarnate at war with light, illumination.
it's coming, it's coming now!
choose your side because if you sit on the fence they will kill you to.