June 14, 2012
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Worthless Musings as I Travel by Sky
What is it about this warm poison that intoxicates me into single-minded lust?
Is it chemical? Emotional? Is there a difference?I am in as much love as I am in hate. I think.
As far back as my inflexible memory stretches, each day counts the savage internal battles to decide the war between love and hate.
Which is it? Is it love or is it hate?
Should it be love, I as an individual lose to the tragedy of unrequited sacrifice.
Should it be hate, I sentence the solidifying passion and tenderness in my soul to death by cynicism.
Love, or hate?————————
Today, I recognize ego as the source of all pain. Ego makes pawns into men, makes phenomena into purpose, and makes death into god.
Today, my ego shall make innocence into philosophy.————————
Thinking about love, I obtained that which I have been craving.
I feel sad.
I feel the slow cooking of the mind
in despair of fate, cruel at the limits of design,
in unappreciated suffering of innocents,
in the unnoticed destruction of beauty.
This sadness is a state of the mind in cooking,
an act that can stop with the heat but never be reversed.————————
I sat behind the wing that remained large while all the things I knew to be large fell away into smallness in mere seconds. All of a sudden, I felt suicidal and wanted to take a leap all the living feared. I wanted to feel oblivion, to be oblivion.
In just moments, we were hundreds of feet higher and i wanted to connect to this unfamiliar atmosphere. With my fists through the window.Would I put everyone in danger? Would I go to jail? Would it affect my future? Then I saw the design from above and wished to play as god. I would roll a boulder methodically over those thousands of chips people lived in, people lived for, over those colorful nuggets that people drove around. In a motion like mowing the lawn, I would return the world to the way it should be, without human purpose imposed upon it. The urge to kill was strong in depraved compassion. I wanted to destroy the destruction.
Then we entered the clouds, and my dream came true.
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Like us, the earth covers its bones with its flesh, but we carve it out like bark. How sick we are as humans. While we do not scoop out the skin and flesh of breathing animals for pleasure, we scoop out the living flesh of the earth for modernity.
