D
Deleted member 28317
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Here i stay, again, in the city that brings out the worst in me.
The apex human zoo. The place that gave birth to the great plagues of our time. A festering heap of human tissue scrambling and tearing for survival.
I told myself the next time i was forced to return here, would be my last.
A populous de-armed, castrated and homogenised.
The swirlings of rage continue. My head is drunken with these thoughts, i can hardly maintain right now.
Rumi tells us that it is only in the seeking of disharmony that we are ever able to find peace. Yet, how can this be accepted. Disharmony is all around us, all the time. Disharmony is the getting up at 6am to shit, piss and force-feed yourself before a day of salary-prostitution. Disharmony is waiting in the bread-lines while farmers burn crops and pour milk . Everything has gone topsy-turvy. An inverse of meaning where nothing is true. As much as the Randian philosophy lacks, in this understanding it was very accurate.
The circus band continues their discordant racket, whipping the crowd into increasing states of delirium and hallucination. This tightness of the chest, the sounds grip me totally, cancelling out all possibly of rational attention. The swirl and spirals. The laughter and distortions. I have to escape this place.
The apex human zoo. The place that gave birth to the great plagues of our time. A festering heap of human tissue scrambling and tearing for survival.
I told myself the next time i was forced to return here, would be my last.
A populous de-armed, castrated and homogenised.
The swirlings of rage continue. My head is drunken with these thoughts, i can hardly maintain right now.
Rumi tells us that it is only in the seeking of disharmony that we are ever able to find peace. Yet, how can this be accepted. Disharmony is all around us, all the time. Disharmony is the getting up at 6am to shit, piss and force-feed yourself before a day of salary-prostitution. Disharmony is waiting in the bread-lines while farmers burn crops and pour milk . Everything has gone topsy-turvy. An inverse of meaning where nothing is true. As much as the Randian philosophy lacks, in this understanding it was very accurate.
The circus band continues their discordant racket, whipping the crowd into increasing states of delirium and hallucination. This tightness of the chest, the sounds grip me totally, cancelling out all possibly of rational attention. The swirl and spirals. The laughter and distortions. I have to escape this place.