the only reasonable goal there is is world domination. some will say this is ridiculous, some will say that we should strive for world peace. the former have been beaten in the game and the latter have sublimated their lust for power into a deceptive form, one that still seeks to conquer, to impose but to be accepted all the same. these people might yet win, but if you read this know they would not ride under the banner of freedom. it is undeniable that one who cannot act violently is not free. for the forbidding of something as primal as violence is done in the name of security and order, things which stand in direct opposition to true freedom. yearning for security is fear of death projected, it is the child hoping not to grow old and cowering for its protector. but you, the child, do not have a protector in this world but yourself. not everyone is your enemy, but you cannot befriend everyone. resources are limited and your ability to sit idly by and subsist off of capital exchanged is the comfort which tips the scales and inflicts pain on those less fortunate. if this truly hurts you then you will have already begun doing something about it, otherwise it does not. you can choose to claim that it does or you can accept that you do not care. that your brain was not evolved to survive for others and that feeling bad is not repentance. industrialization has been forced unto the world by those who profit from it. it would be wrong to say that there has been no benefit or improvement in living. but it would be unholy to ignore the departure from instinct. modern man wrestles with being satisfied, with spitting Death in the face and Living because modern man is sedated. sits in car. drives to grocery store. pushes cart. pushes cart. pushes cart. unloads car. unpackages food. atrocious. for man, to be nomad is to live. to thunder after prey with the whole of the body and mind in orgasmic unfiltered symphony. to heft fresh kill and worship its form, its providence. to do its spirit justice by grateful consumption. this act is conquering. it is nature. it has always been and it is being now. whether you accept to see it or not.
lost in this maze for so long.. the walls have grown mundane where once they struck fear. would climb out if not for unholy shrapnel coating the wall, surely that way is only injury... but lo the sky is above me and in it i see ease and relaxation, clouds drift by so easily unencumbered by these weights seemingly not of this earth of this realm. sublime in their fashion at ease with the nature of their form incapable of tying themselves to anything free. feet began to bleed a long while ago.. it does hurt to walk, there is no way but through so one must trudge on.. the blood provides a sort of gruesome map, a visceral YOUVE BEEN HERE. but sometimes it rains and ground being cleansed holds no detail it is painful to see what might have been progress disappear, to know you might be doing it again but to fear stagnation, to die in place, feet depressed into barbed thorn an unwilling statue to the game at play. the rain is not unpleasant. it is reminder, when you feel it break on your skin, that you are still alive, that the sky touches you, perhaps you will touch the sky someday.
i used to think i built this maze, and if it were true id be quite flattered. i no longer think this at least not alone, it was cultivated, constructed, encouraged it is the product of years of training in an unknown art. it is the denial of innocence through indoctrination of young and unprepared. the projection of taught insecurities onto those who have not yet thought to be insecure. it is truly wicked. it is propaganda in its truest form but they wouldnt point to it as an example in school. because there is benefit to controlling in the slightest way reactions to phenomena because these seeds take root and do grow. they grow in the dark and they do not die in simple light. spiraling they soon encompass. and those who pray to efficiency rejoice. because if you fear the reaper and reject the soul your body long ago turned cold.
A ROAR BELLOWS FROM THE ROOT OF MY BEING! what is this vile labyrinth of predilections my mind has become?! years and years of trying to know what it is that is coming one way or another have blocked the channel of non-action which allows for organic surprise to bubble up. it's never what will happen next, it's "it'll probably be this or that?" EXCUSE YOU WHO THE FUCK! HOW COULD YOU POSSIBLY KNOW ANYTHING ABOUT THE MOMENT COMING NEXT?!!? YOU INSOLENT HYPOCRITE. not even listening, not even living, only attempting to survive, as if danger were imminent as if understanding were needed and incompletion was present. defenses turn offensive when installed unknowingly, ceasing to be with and becoming within. scary? yes. deadly? always. pick out your coffin then! seal your personality in a tomb and write "bury after death" on it. retreat to the depths! no one can you reach you there! it MUST be SAFE, but it hurt it hurt it hurt. i didn't want it! would you have known not to do the same?! like building sandcastles at the beach, innocent to the purpose of the design, all too aware of the tide. surely it will reach the castle in time, but if you build the walls high enough! not even the ocean could lay siege to it! IMPREGNABLE! THIS MUST BE SUCCESS I HAVE WROUGHT. now, where was the exit again?
testing testing 1. 2.. 3... TIME TO GET OVER THAT, MORE TO COME