I never understood how people believe the goverment version of 9/11. It’s as if the world has awknologed a pig wearing a cows mask and they have convinced them self’s it a cow. Remember tower 7? – Dark Political Humor
Hollowed, ruthless, cunning. You speak to each other as if robotic manikin’s. Wired to the machine as if an actor in some grand illusion.
Too Long to retain soulful laughter.
Too Long to catch a spark from your fleeting humanity.
When the conductor pulls this grinding train to a halt and the hostess announces your stop, will you stare with the same blank expression of a manikin, too wired into the floor to imagine continued existence? Too absorbed in you own self interests to reach beyond?
What have you become?
What are you doing here?
If life’s purpose truly lies between the ruffling of little paper notes, then let it feed you when the lights dim over your cold crisp breath.
Freedom is all in the matter of perception. Freedom is an ideal. Everyone of us is born free and will remain so until our death, yet we remain to numb to realize it. Our generation is pathetic. With no common cause, our ideals create our own nightmares, in favour of dreams. In the modern comforts we have awarded ourselves, how dare we moan through our hypocritical tongues.
If there was ever a time for change, it came along time before we ever conceived of the word “free.”
If you want freedom, take it, for its the only action that requires no action at all. Let us not resolve ourselves to our own cage. In plain text, it is time for the revolution of self.
“Someday this whole place is going to burn, is your whole life in there waiting.” – Matthew Good
Often I wonder if you are still out there after our last chat. It’s been along time since I have thought of you and I’m not sure why I am writing to you now. When I found happiness in the present, your usefulness ceased to exist. Yet I am happier now then I have ever been, wondering if anybody is still out there listening? What would that even mean?
I stopped writing because I didn’t want to continuously add to that white noise in the back of your mind, yet I wonder if my words amongst my journal are a waste if they are not shared. If I could inspire someone to do anything, wouldn’t that serve some higher purpose?
I have deleted all of the old content. Expect the upcoming posts to be less useful but hopefully more inspirational. If only one person is moved by these pages, then it has all been a success.