I struggle to forgive stupidity, this shouldn’t be the case, one should be more accepting however it’s just far too draining.
The same is true for ignorance, wilful blindness and a whole host of other things.
Now please understand this, the same level of contempt would be expected to come my way for people who felt this and more of me. It wouldn’t upset or sadden me because it would be their prerogative to find a lesser person irritating and barely tolerable at best.
A lesser life, yes there is such a thing, how people categorise it may differ yet there is always someone you feel superior to, don’t try to deny it because that would be criminal and rather ignorant.
The ramblings of the homeless, maybe they have more to them then we know.
“God is dead! Murdered by that which he created and favoured most. Look in the mirror and you will see your true enemy.”
Was it meth induced, the cries of a broken mind or the horrid truth behind the veil.
People are so desperate to be unique, different and individual that they end up being exactly the same as everyone else trying to do it.
Of the alternative individuals that have walked past the window this morning not one has really been any different form another, even though it’s evident they’re trying to be, because being a part of something bigger than yourself, a collective part of society is so wrong that you should be purged for it.
When will people learn that what has yet to happen has already happen once upon a time.
When did the American Dream cross the sea?
Everywhere you look you can see it
The idea that anything is possible
That living outside the rules of reality is viable
It can’t be only me who sees it, can it?
Have I fallen so far in the this cynical abyss that everything I now see is a twisted version of itself?
Reading back over the years and everything written to me is how life is, yet to everyone else it’s nothing more than bitter words from a broken heart of long ago that never truly stopped bleeding.
Surely other people can see the hypocritical nature of humans?
Those who lived that drug fuelled life and are now reformed and holier-than-thou and championing the spiritual life of benevolence and magnanimity, ugh such bulllshit, it’s all bullshit.
Argh, this frustration, what, where does it come from and why won’t it leave me.
Which door is closed, what is behind it, how can it be found?
It is that one in the corner of my eye, the one I look to see and yet each time it’s never there. Is it madness, or something else?
At this point in my life I reckon the Mobius Chair would be rather useful, alas that is but fiction and time marches on until we are merely shadows & dust, just like Proximo said.
“Shadows & dust Maximus. Shadows & dust…..”
Obsession comes in many forms, some are accepted as good, others looked at with disgust. Funny how our morals, beliefs and values can change how we see the world.
In fact it’s quite amusing to me how we see the world through the same eyes and come up with such radically different views. Think about it, one will see a waterfall and experience an awakening deeper than that of being born again, then a person stood right beside them will simply see falling water and nothing more.
Quite fascinating really.
I saw two such looks today, from two old flames.
One was a with a half hearted smile, the other tried to stare through me as if nothing was there. Luckily for me neither really held much impact however it did prompt the thought of wondering what they say and how it differed in their eyes.
I suppose this is why some people can stare at the stars and get lost in their majesty while others could look at the back of a chewing gum wrapper and discover the secrets of the universe.
What a funny old world we live in.
You are the hero of your own story
The true Saviour
A living Deity
That was when your heart was pure
Free from the wear, tear and trials of life
The hapless role of hero, discarded
You cut the ties of a Saviour
Forsaken the vow of divinity
You’re not even strong enough to be the villain
For that there would need to be a passion, a reasons form a past, a story, a life once lived
All of those given up years ago
This is your story
So tell me
What are you now?
Guy to Girl – “Your life is as fake as your boobs”
Random – “Damn.”
Me – Typing away the events unfolding while trying to look inconspicuous.