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Description

Recognition comes from within
"Know Thyself"
Above thyself
The lesson held in high esteem
Regarded as regal
Recognized as righteously self-righteous
Perhaps
or maybe, alias,
the "human race" is everything that Shakespeare would agree with in a name.
Humans, racing against a society identical to their own personal lifestyles.

One ponders,
"But why?"
Why indeed.
My guess is as good as anyone else's.
But what I won't do is challenge them to whom will obtain the knowledge first.

How primitive and subservient.
Slaves.
municipal, axiomatic, and simultaneously dogmatic?
Emulation of the masses.
Terrified to do anything but to save their own asses.

I'm sick, but mainly just tired of the constant contradistinction
displayed by these primitive inhabitants we call "mankind."
Enshrouded just beneath the surface of our skin lies our own veiled demons.

If you sit very still and pay close attention to the feeling,
the actual sensation of your skin,
you may begin to tune into the unease.

The impending doom of unsettled discord.
And you know it's lurking,
just beyond your sight.
always ensnaring you blind-sided.
The melody is tainted and macabre.
Nightmarish, even.

But this is your life.
This abomination of distasteful, loathsome, detestable, wretched filth
comes from inside each and every one of us.
If man was born in the image of God,
what kind of insight does that give us on the concept of God?

I'm feigning interest in you fiends.
Too many of you are unamusing assholes, and I mean that from the bottom of my heart.
Fuck the greedy. Fuck the incompetent.
Plugging away at jobs you hate,
just to earn funds
to buy the shit you embellish your empty shell of a life with.

And you're all so fucking miserable.
I know this because we have more TV commercials these days for
symptoms of "illnesses" that are nothing more than
just the few unpleasantries that come from BEING ALIVE.

Depression is just a certain kind of math going on in your head.
Nothing more.
If anything, it should make you feel alive.
You are not clinically sad for the rest of the epoch because
you're experiencing a low disposition.
Without that aspect,
you would neither value nor appreciate life's highs.

Be patient, those of you clinging to the title of "selfish fools."
You will not cease to exist because you've hit a rough patch in your life.

Turn around and pick up the pieces.
Engage a friend, if you have any.
Perhaps they can assist you in mending the broken shards of your life back together.
Torment and sorrow are tests to see if you'll be willing to press on,
hurry now,
back to the rat-race you...we...us, as a nation, call our lives.

Description

Recognition comes from within
"Know Thyself"
Above thyself
The lesson held in high esteem
Regarded as regal
Recognized as righteously self-righteous
Perhaps
or maybe, alias,
the "human race" is everything that Shakespeare would agree with in a name.
Humans, racing against a society identical to their own personal lifestyles.

One ponders,
"But why?"
Why indeed.
My guess is as good as anyone else's.
But what I won't do is challenge them to whom will obtain the knowledge first.

How primitive and subservient.
Slaves.
municipal, axiomatic, and simultaneously dogmatic?
Emulation of the masses.
Terrified to do anything but to save their own asses.

I'm sick, but mainly just tired of the constant contradistinction
displayed by these primitive inhabitants we call "mankind."
Enshrouded just beneath the surface of our skin lies our own veiled demons.

If you sit very still and pay close attention to the feeling,
the actual sensation of your skin,
you may begin to tune into the unease.

The impending doom of unsettled discord.
And you know it's lurking,
just beyond your sight.
always ensnaring you blind-sided.
The melody is tainted and macabre.
Nightmarish, even.

But this is your life.
This abomination of distasteful, loathsome, detestable, wretched filth
comes from inside each and every one of us.
If man was born in the image of God,
what kind of insight does that give us on the concept of God?

I'm feigning interest in you fiends.
Too many of you are unamusing assholes, and I mean that from the bottom of my heart.
Fuck the greedy. Fuck the incompetent.
Plugging away at jobs you hate,
just to earn funds
to buy the shit you embellish your empty shell of a life with.

And you're all so fucking miserable.
I know this because we have more TV commercials these days for
symptoms of "illnesses" that are nothing more than
just the few unpleasantries that come from BEING ALIVE.

Depression is just a certain kind of math going on in your head.
Nothing more.
If anything, it should make you feel alive.
You are not clinically sad for the rest of the epoch because
you're experiencing a low disposition.
Without that aspect,
you would neither value nor appreciate life's highs.

Be patient, those of you clinging to the title of "selfish fools."
You will not cease to exist because you've hit a rough patch in your life.

Turn around and pick up the pieces.
Engage a friend, if you have any.
Perhaps they can assist you in mending the broken shards of your life back together.
Torment and sorrow are tests to see if you'll be willing to press on,
hurry now,
back to the rat-race you...we...us, as a nation, call our lives.