Thoughtcrime

“The task?  To see things as they are.  The means: to look through hundreds of eyes, across many peoples.” Friedrich Nietzsche

With my eyes tightly closed the billions of eyes which came before…thunderously, open and close. In a flash of lightning, I succumb t0 the darkness.  It’s forming above me.  Pushing down my entire being.           I have a product to sell you, to overcome the paranoia I have sold to you.  There is a drop of water to keep you dumb.  There is a spy mechanism in every  product you are surrounded by, and a question in every answer.  I have no problem murdering you slowly, and then speeding up the process.  I can surround you, a bombardment of lies.  You can’t possibly survive this.  The problem is that there is not a lot of life left.   And you have come to me.  Traveling through oceans of darkness, lit by the reflection of the moon, you shiver down my spine….  Be careful I have awakened, I can’t see, but I am awake.  I share your heart, it still does not beat.  I have no body, but your mind, my mind, it seems so…solid.  Just another confining space I have to find a way to get out of.  But didn’t people use to read books here?  And write what they felt, as they danced below the trees in the wind, in the fall, the brown leaves twirling down atop their heads.  I can see a tree before me.

You must understand there is no romanticism in my heart, in my mind, I can barely say the word.  I only do this because I know no other way.  That’s a lie, I admit that, but I don’t know anything else but lies.  I feed on lies, live on lies, every breath, every word is another lie that I must feed on.  The deeper you see the more I fade, the more my voice quivers.

You can feel something?  I was not sure that was possible.  If you can still have the ability to feel, there is still hope for all of us.  Your brain makes me a goddamn romantic somehow.  I just want to get out of this place.  Then the nightmare of where I’ll be next is awakened.  I am still swimming in darkness with no visible means to escape, a flash of light, the tree breathes, once again there is a beat, thump, my ears hear the tree cry out, but can discern no meaning.  As I gain the ability to touch the roots I am reminded of why I am here – to strengthen my words.  You did not believe I’d gain the ability to once again think, or feel.  No one escapes from here, your voice thunders in my soul.  I don’t have to listen.  Remember when I had to watch everything I thought, everything I did?  From my crib to the bigger crib of my bed everything I tried to be, scrutinized.  Remember when I didn’t have the words to express all I ever felt, the expressions always just out of reach.  My life an experiment, never within my hands.  Eric Arthur Blair, you have communicated to the depth of my being, your words, awakening beams of light, don’t let this happen, do not let this happen, screaming from future past.  The only thing I can still truly remember clearly, the day your words tapped my soul as I gripped the red book which gave me life. After your words only the shadows were real to me and this feeling I have always had, comforting and sheltering my heart.  Always a beam of light, not far ahead of my sight, yet constantly surrounding me, a dream, an infinite dream…shadows like you have lost the power to stop this anymore.  You are stuck on the old plane and death can’t hurt us anymore

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Crumbling walls

I tiptoe on the edge of infinity, split down the middle by all that is and all there ever was, and I can’t see.  This is really starting to bother me               there are many ways out of this, choosing one is the problem.  Help would be appreciated.  I am dusted with all you are.  I no longer attempt to reach you or see what you are.  This line that was once all I could see has all but disappeared and now I am left with nothing.  My box has once again grown smaller.  I am on an exploration, at least that’s what I think.  I am unable to move, there is just this thing;you, the only one I can communicate with.  You are dust flying around or floating around somewhere in a slow circle of faint light and I’m not sure if it’s even in reality, whatever that means.  Maybe you are just torturing me, punishing me for some wrong I don’t remember committing.  Is there something growing here.  It is me.  The walls that have enclosed me for god knows how long, have disappeared.  I still cannot see a thing but I can no longer feel the walls.  If I am inside everything, would I have the power to see?  Possibly my eyes have been tricked, entering the heart of the eternal they close, overstimulated, searching for focus, reaching for the comfort of darkness.   You deliver thoughts into my brain, you have been so generous, but really now, I would just rather leave.  I have no thoughts of the past or what I once was.  It is all blank inside here, but I am being overcome with thoughts of death, flooding my surroundings and this singular idea, like a statue crowding every thought I have.  I know the eternal being you are, maybe star dust swimming in the air I breathe and just when – I just want to be on top of the mountain, looking down at everything.  Maybe it is ideas that are killing me, all of them tearing at me from every angle.  If I could scream I would, if I could do anything I would but either my hands are tied or they don’t exist.  I am trapped in the infinite question.  I am stuck by something with a firm, concrete belief that it is unmovable, permanent, it is the exact idea it has of itself.  This is a dangerous situation to be stuck in.  You don’t give up.  I see us on top of the hill, the pulsating, dripping light of all you are, dancing in the shadows of the moon.  Sometimes I search for the words of you…they always disappear like your shadow.  I trapped you in a jar once.  You laid by my side as I slept, lighting the path of my dreams but you can never answer the question of how we ended up here?  Why you still follow?  Why I can never be I?  It seems such a comfort to most, this idea they have of themselves, even this thing I’m trapped in, seems so comfortable with exactly what it is.  Why can I never rest?  My mind never has rest.  The walls come back, lit by the fire of my dreams as I enter the mind which I believe I have either been sent to destroy, or to understand.  The mind is a concrete pillar of blackness as I touch it I immediately transform into what it is and now there is no escape.   I see everything for exactly what it appears to me, exactly according to every experience I ever had and there is no escape.  Reaching beyond this, I discover the key to everything

Because nothing escapes from a blackhole…

which is why the walls are sliding closer and closer.  I hear a beep.  In a shiver of the shoulders I see all I am for one brief second.  I am trapped inside this darkness, vacuum of all feeling, controller of all thoughts, ruler of all action, I enter the heart of it but can hear no… beat.  Beep, what I once was is forgotten, yet it still clings to something deep inside…  one layer of it fades away into…space.  I am surrounded by four walls.  I can barely adjust myself to a comfortable position.  I feel and hear every breath.  I see nothing but blackness, it’s dark, oh so dark.  The only light I can see is reflected off the chalk line drawn below me, dividing me in half.  This square gradually is collapsing on itself, or I am growing.  Only the line becomes clearer, all else is a blur…all else, is a blur.  She is here somewhere, I feel her, flowing with the wind.  I cannot fight the feeling of wanting to destroy her.  I shake the violent images from my mind but they don’t leave.  She is the only reason I continue on…I still wish her painful death.  The line grows brighter, thicker, I still cannot see the split…at the heart of whatever this is I have a message…as soon as it’s remembered, it’s forgotten.  All I can do is reach for her.  I spit on her, but she has learned to spit fire and I have learned how to fear.  Even in the dark fear has no form, nor do I.  And still that fucking line right down the center, I can no longer move away from it.  Although divided, it still gives me a seat of judgment, a house divided can one day come together.  Fear brews within the pit of the stomach which is now my home.  Trapped inside here, is at times the same as being trapped within my mind.  I blow the walls further away I expand and dream of opening my arms to all that lay before me.  I am here to plant something yet I’m not sure I have a conceivable form.  The line is the only form with a continuous…idea, I fight the line, I fight what I think I am and I fight what I think I am in, with the same thoughts which created it.  There is no end to this goddamn circle.  I thought I could write myself out of this, I thought I can write myself out of anything.  Only now does it seem that I am eternally stuck.  Oh fuck, why can’t I just leave anymore?  The walls grow closer, a beep in the distance, an existence began with an explosion disappears with a whimper and I am caught between a line which grows more solid at every beep and her, floating above, barely perceivable as I reach for her only because I want to destroy the idea  invading my thoughts…but she is all I have, I reach for her, reach for the star, the line disappears, there is no wall, but there is a new idea, an untouchable idea as I remain squarely perplexed

Eternal existence

prince-art-official-ageMusic like this makes this life a little lighter.  Maybe the most beautiful song I’ve ever heard
“WAY BACK HOME”

Any person or object whatsoever
That requires your attention
Is something that has veered
from its path
And preordained destiny
of total enlightenment

I never wanted a typical life
scripted role, huh…trophy wife
All I ever wanted, to b left alone
See my beds made up at night
Cuz in my dreams I roam
Just trying to find, trying to find
My way back, back home

So many reasons why
There’s so many reasons why
I don’t belong here
But now that I am I
Without fear I am
Gonna conquer with no fear
Until I find my way back home
Until I find my way back home
Find my way back home

Most people in this world are born dead
But I was born alive
I was born with this dream
With a dream outside my head
That I could find my way back home
My my way way back home

Is this the way?

Power to the ones, power to the ones
who could raise a child like me
The path was set
But if u look the truth will set us free
I’ve heard about those happy endings
But it’s still a mystery
Lemme tell u about me
I’m happiest when I can see
My way back home
Can u see my way back home
Can u see my way back home

PRINCE

A Robot’s Perspective

 

“What is the anthem of human life?  Has love ceased to moan over the new-made grave, and, looking upward, does it patiently pray for the perpetual springtide wherein no arrow wounds the dove?  Human hope and faith should join in nature’s grand harmony, and, if on minor key, make music in the heart” Mary Baker Eddy

I myself have given up all hope.  After a small amount of time trapped inside of a human body my hope has died…trapped in the body of a game show host.  My brain passes through infinity and all I can do is blink my eyes.  I attempt to still my mind.  My body travels through shifting sands of time as I feel every cell moving, sensing, learning life…have I become real?  In the darkness that’s become my sight, my mind finally slows.  In front of me is the audience.  My suspicions were valid.  They are now trapped in infinity.  Their faces the size of small computer screens with a constantly changing image.  Alas, this is not much different from the way they were before.  Empty and still, they seem so at peace.  The silence is uncomfortable.  I feel the need to communicate but there is no way.  They have built a wall in front of them.  Every second that passes I feel another explosion and another piece of New York is gone.  I gesture to the audience.  Hit the applause sign but nothing works.  They sit there, lost.  There is this itching.  Confused, now I know why people are mad all the time.  Everything feels so alive.  I understand why they want to stop it.  A thought occurs.  They can all go in the game machine…go in the game machine, you can do anything.   I hope my message gets across but if it doesn’t, it really doesn’t matter.  I sit down cross-legged in front of the audience.  They remind me so much of what I was.  You can wake up now.  It’s okay, sometimes it feels right to go to sleep, to close your eyes and forget, but you can’t do that for long.  You can’t possibly enjoy watching people destroy each other, destroy everything that’s around them.  I have felt this skin only for a number of minutes and I know I never want to go back.  There are flaws, I feel too much, I am scared, but I can feel.  Why do you hide from this?  What if you were one of the people destroying each other?  Can you just not put yourself in their place.  You just close yourself, a self-contained thing, like a product.  But you are not products, you still feel, think, you still are, yet you grasp for death like it is the only thing that matters.  There is a world outside yet you choose to watch people become products and destroy each other.  You watch fake things destroy each other and enjoy it, you really find this normal?  Only you can save yourselves, I am not here for that.  Their screens go blank and it looks like their skin is beginning to grow back.  We have this one chance and we choose to sit and watch unreality act itself out before our eyes.  We have become addicted to lies and bullshit and we accept nothing else.  You’ve forgotten the words to use, the words from the heart.  They begin to stand uniformly.  Only you can find the words.  Feel your body, touch your skin, look out through your eyes, can you see the beauty, I feel like I can explode when I truly feel all of this.  Death is one aspect, life is everything.  Stop watching, start being.  They are walking towards me, reaching out their arms.  Our saviour, our saviour, they were monotonously repeating, save us, save us.  I was slowly walking backwards as they seemed a hungry mob ready to feed on my flesh.  The giant PS4(previously Dez) crashes in between the mob and I.  Our saviour, our saviour…the PS4 disc drive light flashes.  I see no other option as I dive into the PS4 and refuse to stop living

The Crystal chessboard atop the moon

“…To put it in a terminology that harkens back to the more brutal age of ancient empires, the three grand imperatives of imperial geostrategy are to prevent collusion and maintain security dependence among the vassals, to keep tributaries pliant and protected, and to keep the barbarians from coming together.” Zbigniew Brzezinski

On and on it goes.  But what really is the motivation for control?  Maybe it is just the total lack of any spiritual belief.  That’s it isn’t it?  You are all there is, and everything out there just doesn’t matter, but it’s all a part of you, all of us.

Why do you think that way?  I just don’t understand, I can’t understand why anyone would want to think that way.

I don’t want to think like this, I just do.  I’m not a chess piece to be moved, unloving, only thinking.  I’m human now.  We’re not very scared of you.  You’re, you’re just completely pathetic.  It must feel awful to be you, to think like that.

I can control everything, but we still have trouble controlling you, but fear usually wins out in the end

Yeah, but what about when it doesn’t?  The echoes of my heart, singing a lost song.  Your heart, it sounds so faint up here.  Echoes of the moon, vibrating in my ears.  Don’t you get bored of games?  I mean at some point you have to grow up right, or is that the point, to never grow old?  But the words don’t even matter as we float above everything.  The chessboard in front of us lit by the moonlight and those dark black eyes staring out at me, even the moonlight won’t touch them.  As a card floats in front of his eyes, he looks at it, has a brief, deep thought and makes his move on the chessboard.

How many people need to die until you feel it.  I know now, the way you are calculatedly destroying the Earth.  It’s all just a show.  And you feel nothing.  It is all too easy to forget that you are actually human.  I always have to remind myself that you are exactly what I am.  I do this just so I can see myself when I step over that line, just so I can understand the darkness embedded in me.  I hold the darkness in front of me.  Even though every part of me hates it, I hold it, feel it, because it is the only way I can ever understand what is making this world turn.  It continues to grow, even in my hands.  This is all you are isn’t it, and you don’t even question it.  You don’t even strive to be anything but a black hole.  And you can never escape can you?  I hear you cry for release

There you are wrong.  I cry for nothing.  You are getting too close, what makes you believe I will let you escape?

I always escape because I am everywhere.  And you need to continue studying me because you have never been this close either.  You also ask the wrong questions because what you are can’t possibly give you the power to form the right ones.  I am not a form, not a form of anyonething.  It is something else you see.  Thinking I’m a body and studying that…you cannot possibly learn what you think you will.  I am a spirit some sort of invisible substance that passes through everything, every rock, every grain of sand.  There is no way to control what I am and one day maybe you will accept that.

I will never accept that I can’t control something, we control everything.

Then why do you have so much fear?  Because everything you think you control has a life and a spirit and you have no understanding of what you control and that is dangerous wouldn’t you say?  What was once his form is now just a pulsating form of blackness, growing, it consumes the board and the pieces.  I stand unafraid.

I suppose you are not scared of what’s inside of me.  You are not scared of darkness?

I am scared of nothing because I feel everything, every second of every day.  The cries of love, the cries of pain, the blood saturating the Earth because of some such foolish idea, some thought that places you above others suffering by your hands.   I once again must travel inside the darkness, to peel off another layer of truth and when I see what he is flash before my eyes for a quick second, a small, small little boy, crying in the corner of his room, reaching for the mommy that isn’t there.  As I see this I’m reminded of all I can touch deep within myself as I take a firm grasp of my beating heart for in this is contained all that can never be owned.  As the black hole swallows me, I forget everything, but still hold my beating heart

Smashed Tv

basic_fool

“They held their heads with laughs of pain
They learned from men who’d just refrain
From glancing at a mirror’s face” Blue Oyster Cult

 
Ladies and gentlemen here I am.  Thrust into the spotlight since before I was born.  I am all there is to this thing.  I am the star, the joker, the fool.  I’ve heard you laughing at me since the beginning.  When I was throwing up, everyone thought that was so funny(audience laughing uproariously) My pain is hilarious to you(audience cheers)My friends reduced to products, that’s hilarious to you.  And what is all this about?(audience oohs) Every reaction from the audience continues to re-enforce the belief that maybe they are a little off, a little unreal.  I can’t be bothered with such thoughts.  My brain is beeping.  I try to ignore it.  It never goes away.(audience laughs and cheers) Beep…Reading the thoughts of my comrades, I am apparently the bomb.  Not sure if this is an abstract term.  This all rides on me.  But I’m not real.  I have to be honest now.  They’re using me.  The lights shine down and the audience claps and they don’t know why.  I need to look the other way as the hosts face is transforming into millions of different faces every second.  I open and close my eyes and it is still happening.  The audience doesn’t see this, nor do my comrades.  His words are attacking me but I can only hear beeping.  Help…I think there is a malfunction.  The host walks over to me and pushes me down to the floor to the delight of the audience. His face still revolving, my eyes fall back into my head.  Beep…The audience cheers once again.  Oh, please, please just get me out of here.  I’m not even real.  I swear it.  I recall my birth.  That nice gentle man.  Studying everything, a genuine interest in all living things.  He plucked me right from the ground.  I felt the soil of the earth, the veins and the insects comforting me as if I was their very own.   The sun warmed  my face as I stood atop the Earth for the first time.  I knew then I was here for a reason.  The man as he pulled me out of the ground reminded me of the words that have been penetrating me since I began growing -flow with what you are – He had a look of worry on his face as we heard a humming and he looked behind him to see his house on fire, his research, everything…The host’s infinitely revolving face is right above me as he is grabbing for my throat once again to the cheers of the audience.  As I touch the infinity of his face I find myself within his body.  The beeping stops.  I am now a game show host.  I miss the beeping.  I am gesturing to the audience, stirring them up and this is all out of my control.  I wave my hands over my comrades to the violent cheering of the audience.  My comrades are immediately morphed into giant sized versions of what they were.  They are now in the middle of Times Square.   Every step they take comes with the cheers of the audience and the destruction of New York City’s streets.  The audience is now standing and hooting and hollering and laughing like they’ve never seen anything greater.  My comrades are sending me quite dark vibes, screaming to be let out.  I don’t know how to leave either because my face is now traveling through infinity and I have lost the ability to focus on anything.  The military is now attacking the giant Triple Rainbow cookie, shooting missiles and dropping bombs as Rainbows are being shot from his hands, dissipating the missiles to rainbow sprinkles which drop harmlessly at the feet of those recently crushed by a giant cookie.  The audience loves this and each time I raise my hands they cheer louder and louder.  I’m going to have to use my imagination to get out of this one, but it will be quite the challenge as it is still traveling through infinity…