There is beauty in chaos, but no chaos in beauty... wait, is there? Backdrops of shattered concepts cascade through relevant dreams of lust and power. The power of lust is the driving force of freedom. The ideals of society are ploughing towards power. Equal freedom? Equality? It is all utopian. We are nobody. Nobody dies. Nobody cries. Everyone is happy. If you want to poke me in the eye, I must accept it as your right and be blinded by your actions. Wait, I grab your finger and break it. I am not letting you express yourself. I am sorry for this.
I do not like you!
Thin words paper over mounds of destroyed houses. What nice walls we have! We are covered in dust. We want to be in control. However, what we want to control is not known for we have yet to understand our violent extraction from the womb. We are nothing without the idea that we are something. Something worthy of thought beyond our timeline. To strangle, but to not be strangled. To look into the eyes of the beast and wear its fur as a coat. Society is too complex. Within households of two’s three’s and four’s, arguments erupt over what type of pizza a family will eat. It is impossible to collectively understand what we are doing as a gigantic blob of fragmented organisms, breeding without purpose as to why we breed. Hopefully we can save ourselves from the bush that burns, the bridge that collapses or from the snake that eats itself to save itself. Are we the snake or are we the hunger that entices the snake to self-devour?
Idiots apologise for the clouds that exist. Yet the rock that became wet from the rain that fell from the cloud, is just a rock, as the cloud is simply a cloud. Poetic words that float from moist mouths to open ears have meanings, though everyone who is using such words has a differed understanding of such terms. Arguments are not clear. There cannot be an understating if the argument is not clear. I once observed a man kick a cat. The man understood why he kicked the cat. The cat had no idea that it was about to be kicked or why it was kicked. The man who kicked the cat was an alcoholic. A year later he turned yellow and died.
We need to admit, we are a terrible animal. A terrible intelligent animal. A terrible intelligent animal with an ego. A terrible intelligent animal, with an ego who thinks they are responsible and caring. We are a deluded intelligent animal...with an urge to be liked. I think I want to be liked but I am too lazy to make the effort.
And, there we are. Within our own freedom. From the present, we escape into infinity. Untouched. Fragmented. To be whatever it is we truly are. We have made life too complex. Developing a calorie deficient intellectual appetite that devours intellect. Please shout louder, I cannot hear at the back.
Seriously, what are we really doing? We need to remove societies heels. All I can hear is the tapping sound as they repeatedly walk over the wooden floor. Everyone is wearing heels.
Overall, life is a pointless but fun and haphazard journey to death. I have no idea what death is, just as I had no idea what life was before I was born. I just know death is coming and I cannot become too concerned with societies individual idealistic utopian grotesque gibberish.
There is too much noise.