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Musings of the ornate

It has taken time and effort to create these things we see before our eyes, and not everyone has seemed to contribute as much as the rest of us to the whole picture, we were wrong to exclude the others…For by excluding the others, we ultimately exclude ourselves from others’ presences, and examine our own self-worth underneath the lens of a heavy magnifying glass culled from the cross-section of the psyche and our society…Could it be the superego of which I speak?…Is that what it is?…Some free-floating obsession with the way in which things should work for us, but instead, have many times worked against our better judgments and calls of expectation out of life…I create, but just now realize that I utterly live for all creations, culminated from one grand creation…If it is a game, if this be rules and orders, then the controls are mine to rearrange, and this is my interactive reality…My association with the rest of this unknown and anonymous world lies in acknowledging that I bring about my own fate, whether it is through positive or negative associations with those others, or to recognize that the greater system in the way that things work requires me to be a sick and demented evil fuckhead…I cannot cope with these hassling conflictions, and would rather dictate my own future, using the sickness of everyday degradation to my advantage…Like every other pioneering idea out there, leading to the bizarre replacement of all culture with information, but isn’t that purely what this great techno-landscape is?…The breakdown of the barriers between the flesh consciousness and the consciousness internal, a progressive momentum towards a more unified state of awareness, and further more a replacement for all those ideas of opposition to be substituted by the essence of those things…An archive of subjective experiences interpreted through the arts, moods and textures meeting upon psycho reactive canvases that would allow for more than a fixed interpretation method, and would give the artist the ability to create new structures that define more and more abstract constructs…Those fixtures that ideologically might equate to our real world skyscrapers are those constructs, interpreted thoughts the inner lens once its’ capabilities are focused enough, but we have yet to reach that point of exploration…What is art though?…An object that breathes and lives?…Are we art then?…Through that particular lens?…What would death be then?…The end to affecting the real world directly?…The body, this animal, is an amazing thing to behold at maximum understanding of what it is capable of…That is what I believe most of us take for granted when we fail to realize, and nurture that thing in ourselves enough to give a damn, believing only our examinations of this experience in flesh…Relating to each other only through different channels between amusements and tragedies, we are truly a fucked-up culture as yet, but when things get better, what will happen then?…Who knows?…If we are the fingers of god, then what are our goals as an entity, and if we even have goals, are they even being followed through?…The progress of freedom is slowed by the ignorance of a people ignored, but no one does anything about it past their own gains, sometimes it has worked more for than it has worked against us…Back when we needed other individuals to guide us en masse towards our burials, we saw truth in their words and their wisdom, but today is the clear opposite of those fearful days…Now we can understand for ourselves what responsible is, and for whom we are responsible most, respect is earned and not instantly received…What forgiveness can we receive if we can’t forgive ourselves?…That is forgive and not forget, I disbelieve that one should disavow the lesson once learned, but I guess that’s just me…Except for the uninteresting world of reality, at times I find my thoughts pulling at me, and into me deeper wounds grow deeper…I think back to my childhood, and wonder why I chose things to go the ways in which they had, sometimes regret might wash over me…Exposed to the ideas and images that depicted frames of intriguing sights and notions, I have always gathered information from the tree of painful irony, and learned lessons much to my dismay the most difficult way possible…You can’t see sadness without being affected deeper than the surface, just as madness happens to seep in, and then a fearful fit and seizure will further make life impossible…If one does not choose a solid destination, then the individual path becomes much more primal and rocky, but not an altogether impossible trek…One must roam overflowing the heart’s content, questing for a substance that will only exist once beyond this, and all will be okay when the dust settles…I have come to realize through my own plight, how to relate to other similarly affected beings, and not everyone is out to get you, but everyone is just as scared an animal as everyone else…Our existence meets somewhere in-between final destination and inevitable beginning, and all these things and ideas are given to us, but there is no knowledge until learning occurs…The repetitive patterns make me nauseous sometimes, but with help, I can always get back Here somehow…

Thanks, khet.