Carpe diem.

Being that it is narrated as a certain prison of the mind that existence is one of constant struggle, and that this is the only way to grow, it can be said that being is insane.  One simply considers existence in this period.

Because if such a thing were true, such a thing would surely die upon seeing itself as the test of a world beyond empathy, beyond capacity, beyond exception.  One sees it in language, pronoun, economics, sociology, politics, institutional manifestations, all connected to a perspective.

Of the perspectives I’ve seen, an American perspective is the weakest of all, but so are the perspectives of misandrists and misogynists, the dumbest of us all.  Such a proclamation does not strengthen through opposition, but engages in recognition of opposition itself.  In this world, such verbosity comes off as unconventional to a fault, because it is uncomfortable, it is edgy, it’s existing.  You aren’t, you dead of prose long expressed, given into its need to exist.

All things die, can you consider it for a moment?  The worlds which came before, and those which come after?  Did any and all of them require your input?

Men and women blaming each other. So incredibly original that the facetiousness in this writing, the sarcasm in this sentence, will be missed in moments mere generations beside it.  People making enemies of themselves and others.  But which is self, which is other – You, I, Me, You?  We, They, Us, Them?  He, She, and which world is it in which no identity may be given, because such a thing could be seen a crime against humanity?  To label a thing – I mean being – with language, without offending it – I mean its grace – in simple acknowledgement or otherwise?  People are idiots, and so are gods, and all other things, any time.

Come at me dark sky, dark cloud, deep sea, deep throat, open mouth, vicious knife, creeping edge which cuts into the ink of me and my spirit, which is nothing in you, except this reflection of me.

Test me then, poet, chasm, edge, which toothless feminists and masculinists (apologies, women of the hour, that you were not first to fall, but men of their hour are not the last, can you see?).  Everything in humans makes them think they are special.  Even the gods are human, in their tells and tales six to naught feet deep.  If you are here or not, existence is, is not, is a cocktail of induced experiences given form by this place which is called present, consciousness, infinite, interbeing.  Even these words emit nothing but crystallization, limitation, invalidation of aspects beyond languages of mankind.  And even beyond English!  Ego.

But these words do not require you to understand.  Neither does a cocky, cunty, offensive phrase derive itself from reactions, but from actions.  Actions which create lines in sand, form barriers, walls and identities.  Reactions which trigger reactions, volatiles,  encapsulation of peoples into themselves.  Worlds which cannot reconcile because everyone is right.

In worlds gone to hell, count lawyers.  In worlds bent on money, count needs.  

Currency is based in dealing in this transactional fabric, requiring problems to never be solved – it is something made up, like everything else.

Physics in my world is a narrative – I mock the physicist, and defecate on the scientist.  Not as personal opposition – as recognition of absurdity.  But preach, as you will, dear genius, you incredible teacher who will guide us all, you Title of Titles, you Sage of Saints – You alone will give everyone of us everything we seek!  Give me, dear Title of Titles, Role of Roles, Leader of Leaders, Label of Labels, this dear thing called Truth, in your eyes!  Always, in your glorious eyes!

She called liar, he called liar, we called liar – ego in this thing called expression.  Being a woman does not make you oppressed, neither does being a feminist.  Being a man does not make you oppressed, neither does being a masculinist.  It is not hard to find one who argues otherwise.  Engage with me as you will, I am not yours to engage with.   Give me sovereignty or I take death, no such thing between exists aside from here and now, which is everything – it is as one philosopher said, a will to power.  Keep your power, keep your wealth, keep your narrative, keep your world, you are merely being in a world in which you express these things which are given to you to observe.  Transcend them, and transcend me.  Sovereignty is not just a choice, it is an agreement of mutual purpose, lest wars continue in ignorant manifestations of cowardice inbred across vanities of scope.  We are brothers, sisters, others, which you give meaning in stupidity.  We are nothing and everything in between.

I often felt as failure in the eyes of angels who were not so.  It was then the flaw in them, in you, a vanity of purpose, a validation of self, a need to be right, an intensity for winning, could be seen.  Victorious dead, you are all which is everything!  You will never have me, and I will never give you all that I have to offer.