Cold, calculated, direct attempts to cut to the heart of the matter, no matter the subject. A wealth of madness: zero methods. Follow along, if you can.
An incessant buzzing.
Trite nonsense, spinning, and weaving,
Identified as foe rather than friend, in its 4am callousness.
Two hours of sleep yesterday, four hours of sleep only now.
To awaken to such irrelevance: it almost seemed malicious.
The world, and its people, are ignorant.
Your family and friends, in truth, only care about themselves.
They will hide from this truth by employing a multitude of excuses and justifications, in attempts to appear virtuous or “good”.
But at the end of the day, virtually everything done is born of ego.
Human beings are silly creatures.
All too often we assign value to the valueless, and to a surprising degree, the detrimental.
Like children, we see another’s desire for something, and immediately react in a knee-jerk like fashion, “deciding” we want it for ourselves.
A day is wasted when one compromises.
Yesterday, was a wasted day.
What leads one to compromise is his greatest attachments.
Family being among the most unthinkable.
Unthinkable because the world hems and haws and guilts and vilifies.
The words came to me last night, and I find it difficult to recall. I’ve lost access to that place — that window through which I saw the truth.
To force yourself upon something is to destroy it.
I lie here confused by my own thoughts.
But am I really confused?
Perhaps I am simply appalled by my own ego.
Annoyed is perhaps the better word.
Annoyed, because even in seeing the futility of such a thing, it persists.
I come now, having pulled the string from my teeth.
Arriving at the shore, drenched, and covered in sand.
“The truth is God,” he said.
But who said?
And where did I come from?
The underworld is full of lies, and being thrust from it leaves one exquisitely disarrayed.
Not every connection can be explained.
This is when you know it’s yours.
The more unexplainable it is, the more personal it is to you.
I don’t mean to sound dramatic, but in a way, this is your “Godhood”.
Enough of living a half-life.
Enough of living in a chemically induced stupor.
Enough of living in an uninspired state.
Enough of wasting a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.
Enough of shoveling money into your empty voids.
Enough of being thrashed around by the involuntary thoughts in your mind.
The Muse has always had your back.
But you haven’t always had its.
And though it won’t hold a grudge, it’s likely hidden itself away.
For it was banished from your false kingdom long ago.