Smooth as Anything
Master Don Juan
- Joined
- Sep 21, 2002
- Messages
- 1,231
- Reaction score
- 0
The futility of life troubles me. We were presented with an empty canvas with which to paint our most beautiful picture, with the most beautiful and delicate array of color. Only to have it rain and rain and wash away everything, leaving it as if it never were in the first place, as if you never achieved, never gained, never succeeded and never existed. This is because you never achieved, never gained, never succeeded and you do not exist. There is nothing because there can be nothing.
Everyone I love is going to die and leave me. But “everyone” is such a grandiose word with such wide connotations. There are but so few I appreciate and value and can even tolerate at all. What of me when they are gone? I am nothing. An ice-sculpture before the sun rises. I am nothing.
But at the same time, I am everything. In a world so vast and empty, I persist. Leaving no trace, no mark and bearing no significance, I persist. Like an insect too difficult to kill, not worth the time or effort, I persist. I am everything and everyone and I am nothing, an ice-sculpture before the sun-rises, but I am the ice-sculpture for at least a moment, at least a second.
The lies everyone believes are so grand and far-reaching that I mostly find it impossible to communicate with them anymore. The institutions of government and religion have established their doctrines in the communities, so deeply engraved that I am speaking from a different plain, a different plateau, a different reality.
I believe in a world with no limits and no boundaries. A temporary world without consequence, or meaning, or significance, or function, or purpose. Everything is an accident. In a universe so expansive, it had to happen once in thirteen billion years. A coincidence? We are the successful out of a trillion failures. We are an accident.
There is no heaven and there is no hell. There is no nirvana. There is no Hades. Only “I.” Only vanity and hedonism and arrogance.
‘They’ want you to buy into altruism, into benevolence, into self-sacrifice. ‘They’ teach you and have you believe that to value yourself is ‘bad,’ is ‘sinful,’ is ‘wrong.’ ‘They’ teach you and have you believe that you are powerless, weak, incapable, inferior. To whom? To whomever they ****ing say- be it “God” or “Buddha” or “El Presidente.” Surrender yourself to your higher power, surrender your will, your desires. Sacrifice who you are and what you want for the “good” of “everyone else.” “Everyone else” is the party, is the faction, is the cult, is the religion, is the controller, the propagandist.
All you have is “I” and maybe one or two others who love you, who care for you, and who mean as much as you do. We’re all moot, irrelevant, meaningless and insignificant—but in the microscopic view, under a magnifying glass, in a brief blip of time—we are everything. “I” and one or two others in a world full of dust and wind and water and rock and even a hint of death. “I.”
“I” love you. “I” care for you. “I.” Do you even know who “I” is, or are you so contrived, so full of ****, so hidden behind a mask of insecurity that there is no “I”? Just the community, just the faction, just the party, just the religion, just the controller, the propagandist? Do you hate abortion or do you just feel right, and accepted, and significant with the Republican Party? Lies, all of them, especially anything which gives you a concern for the well-being of others out of your control, out of your life and out of your realm of responsibility.
You’re so afraid to care for someone because they’ll hurt you. Don’t you realize you’re hurting yourself more by doing so? You masochist. You. “I.”
“I.”
Everyone I love is going to die and leave me. But “everyone” is such a grandiose word with such wide connotations. There are but so few I appreciate and value and can even tolerate at all. What of me when they are gone? I am nothing. An ice-sculpture before the sun rises. I am nothing.
But at the same time, I am everything. In a world so vast and empty, I persist. Leaving no trace, no mark and bearing no significance, I persist. Like an insect too difficult to kill, not worth the time or effort, I persist. I am everything and everyone and I am nothing, an ice-sculpture before the sun-rises, but I am the ice-sculpture for at least a moment, at least a second.
The lies everyone believes are so grand and far-reaching that I mostly find it impossible to communicate with them anymore. The institutions of government and religion have established their doctrines in the communities, so deeply engraved that I am speaking from a different plain, a different plateau, a different reality.
I believe in a world with no limits and no boundaries. A temporary world without consequence, or meaning, or significance, or function, or purpose. Everything is an accident. In a universe so expansive, it had to happen once in thirteen billion years. A coincidence? We are the successful out of a trillion failures. We are an accident.
There is no heaven and there is no hell. There is no nirvana. There is no Hades. Only “I.” Only vanity and hedonism and arrogance.
‘They’ want you to buy into altruism, into benevolence, into self-sacrifice. ‘They’ teach you and have you believe that to value yourself is ‘bad,’ is ‘sinful,’ is ‘wrong.’ ‘They’ teach you and have you believe that you are powerless, weak, incapable, inferior. To whom? To whomever they ****ing say- be it “God” or “Buddha” or “El Presidente.” Surrender yourself to your higher power, surrender your will, your desires. Sacrifice who you are and what you want for the “good” of “everyone else.” “Everyone else” is the party, is the faction, is the cult, is the religion, is the controller, the propagandist.
All you have is “I” and maybe one or two others who love you, who care for you, and who mean as much as you do. We’re all moot, irrelevant, meaningless and insignificant—but in the microscopic view, under a magnifying glass, in a brief blip of time—we are everything. “I” and one or two others in a world full of dust and wind and water and rock and even a hint of death. “I.”
“I” love you. “I” care for you. “I.” Do you even know who “I” is, or are you so contrived, so full of ****, so hidden behind a mask of insecurity that there is no “I”? Just the community, just the faction, just the party, just the religion, just the controller, the propagandist? Do you hate abortion or do you just feel right, and accepted, and significant with the Republican Party? Lies, all of them, especially anything which gives you a concern for the well-being of others out of your control, out of your life and out of your realm of responsibility.
You’re so afraid to care for someone because they’ll hurt you. Don’t you realize you’re hurting yourself more by doing so? You masochist. You. “I.”
“I.”
, or maybe it's just more merit to your message. I don't know...judging by the replies, people either just shut up and accept what they're told, they're too lazy to even think for themselves, they're too caught up in their own self-righteousness, or they're too caught up in materialism, ego, and the immediate and constant hedonism that is our society. 