Optical Delusion

I preach, teach, and define, existentialism. What a huge fucking jive, another yammering hippocrite. I analyze, reason, no matter how refined, I become even more didactic, pointing perfectly to the real, but never replace it. The irony splits me, and leaves me that way. Exactly what I worked so hard to avoid, I stupidly engage, play the game, pointing out differences, which are meant to explain, how we are all the same thing. My language is inadequate, ..ly explaining.... how it is not real. "You must believe me when I say I do not exist, and neither do you.": ...yet we're all in this stew. Complaining....we can not get through. The miasma of conscience, the stigmata of mystical diatribes. Prevents us from perceiveing, that it's more than contradiction, It's a virtual life. The wise simply concentrate on trying to survive. While those with these unsettled minds, try to induce the sublime, to do something, we percieve as important. Will the sky please drop into our eye, show us visions of all that has happened, in a wink, yesterday, and please jibe, with our idea of substance, conform to our values, speak to us, in a way we can find, the meaning in this pointless and repetitive time, now passing before us. Where is the space we open ourselves into, where the hell did I put my third eye? Written March 27th, 2002 © on Mar 26 2002 11:54 PM PST, Neurosine    0 • 10