is quite pointless because most believe I am just in a drunken stupor, which makes it such an easy target to criticize. It will no longer carry a title. I like to create. I like to share. I like to discuss. However, it’s really all a silly competition. Effort is rewarded by mindless and concise praises or antagonistic criticism.
Sometimes, you want someone to just ask you for an opinion or to create an idea that you had not thought of. Of course, ideally, this would be free of preconceptions and judgment. Freedom. Expression. Transformation. Realization. Further Exploration. Never knowing the answer but seeking it constantly. I have always been one to value what someone really thinks and, more importantly, feels from their own experiences. I never really cared to hear regurgitated quotes. I want you to reach within and tell me something.
What you say, what you draw, what you write, leads to a guide to the battery that borrows the energy necessary to carry on this process of finite imagination. Oh, abstract. What you cannot know does exist. Language is powerless. It would be nice if we could remove ourselves from the concepts of body and purpose, empathy and helpfulness, desperation and righteousness. There are no mistakes. There is no debt. There is no time. There is no meaning in the physical. Abstract concepts exist because we know that there is meaning beyond the superficial. What you see is what you get distracted by. You don’t understand who you are, do you? Look into my eyes. Lend me your ear. Follow your nose. Watch your step. Follow your heart. Devote your soul to someone who says they know where it should go.
Oh, wise one, you say you don’t believe in religion. You see beyond the deceit of power. You don’t fall victim to nationalistic ideals. You are not bound by the limitless constructs of science. You evolve at your own beat. There is no book. There is no person. There is no faith. But, wise one, where do you find yourself? In your office. On your cell phone. Watching television. Teaching the uneducated. Creating art. Pursuing nirvana. Or in the dirt. Where do you find yourself? Why ask this again? Where are you now? Are you reading this? Are you thinking of this question at a later time? Did you think of this before? Where were you then? Are you dead? Was/is your life worth it? Atoms, parallel to some, diverging, converging, bouncing, splitting. Not existing. Conceptual representations. Limited possiblity caged in breakable barbed wire.
will let go