Somewhere To Write

Posted by Anonymous on 2014/02/11 under Uncategorized

In misguided contentedness, we find spiritual depravity. In stagnation, the End seems neither red nor blue. The trees and beauty around you wane, bending towards the wind you point an indifferent finger. In each human slumbers the truth of our condition. In absorbing experience and growing, we further our role as a synapse to the mind of a great, spinning molt of exuberant and dynamic life. In resting our spirits, we lose the urgency of reaching towards our human potentiality, dangling from a ever stretching steeple roof. Passion eludes us, and in it’s stead desperate and involuntary apathy washes us. Bathes us in the nightmare that comes over the personalities of a human, and either swallows us or spits us out with a stinging slime that reminds us to not dip into the depravity of sloth. Channeling our innate ability to commune with the forces of creation and keeping a steady crosshair set upon the foreheads of our ambitions are what stoke the flame that has mostly been reduced to embers in the fleshy stoves of our spirits. To find happiness in the midst of eternal struggling, dishonesty, injustice, tragedy, ignorance, and the absence of love is of course perplexing to an antlike creature as is the human. But it is possible, and it is very easily attained. In the minds of every man and woman lies the truth. We are not in control. Surrendering to the forces that be, just as every other creature on this planet has learned to do, and existing solely inside of the time and space being currently granted. Live instinctively,and thus, morally. Accept what cannot be changed and choose to be a force beaming the virtue of truth in this dark universe. TRUTH. The reality of our condition. Ignorance orbs of sentience trapped within a three dimensional cell made of meat and vein, shackled to an everlasting awareness of it’s condition. We are blips of thought in the mind of God, shaken around inside the temple of his physical world.

I love myself. I love you. It is in innate empathy that sometimes gets muddied by half-assed, environmentally trained thoughts leftover from our caveman stage, but it is also an empathy I cannot discard. We are all One thing. One vacuum of space constantly recycling it’s form, breathing itself in and our of existence in different forms, sometimes abstract, sometimes as solid as your coffin. We are not our narrative. We are floating nerve endings connecting to a grand being; you.

Recent Comments

• Anonymous on Rising cost of living causing children in low-cost housing to eat less than three meals a day
• Anonymous on Rising cost of living causing children in low-cost housing to eat less than three meals a day
• Anonymous on Rowling
• Anonymous on Cassandra
• Anonymous on Dear abusers

Tags