In Conquering Demons, We Meet The Devil

So what is the point of this so called aspiration to love?
Peace on earth to all good men and blessed ye be my child of modernized here and now, for those who bleat the loudest are sure to herded in some direction at least. As miniature versions of our future selves do we not owe it to ourselves to find rest,satisfaction,and if were being gratuitous, which the occasion deserves, euphoria, in the now to provide those long sought after memories of merriment to spew over isolated strangers in a bid to be just like someone with no desire to be anything but their perfect selves. The social equivalent in a Hollywood society of desire to see Mr & Mrs Now hauled out of their oversized world by giants, front men of a generation and thrown screaming and hissing into the levels of life where no dreams bear any connection to reality, where resemblance is no more than pre-show advertising to uphold some shining light in honor of how fucking fabulous our aspirations really should be.
No mention of the fabrication of such lies taking place round a board room table with soulless eyes staring wildly into steaming coffee searching their under stimulated minds for the next million dollar drivel before pouring it out of their mouths, chemically incapable of smiling, and into the hands of superior jerks and all in effort to save their sorry minds from standing in line with the rest of the world and waiting for something real to restore faith in humanity, for that word lost it’s meaning a long time ago. And in these circumstances are we expected to believe the existence of a love that is pure and true and not tainted by the insanity caused by viewing a hundred parallel lives a day?
All so attainable we are told so why do we stay where we are? Do we stagnate or flourish in our simple routines? The answer is sure not to be found under the cellophane wrapper of our shiny new toys, endless hours of fun in endless queues in which we place ourselves knowing full well that the concept of endless lasts about 5 seconds longer than the satisfaction of seeing your plans come together, for the human race is evolving beyond any capacity for contentment and the eternal struggle to reach the highest branch and grab the diamond encrusted fruit with our greedy hands is what we must believe. Salivating over our achievement before throwing it to the ground upon sight of the newly constructed, bigger and better tree popping up over the road. We lose our balance and topple onto the fence below, impaled on the poles where we sit, sigh, give up and watch the glorious show unfold knowing our part is merely as an extra. Mingle in the background and await your cue to smile. Thank you to the director, who will call ‘cut’?

In Conquering Demons, We Meet The Devil

pobface

Joined January 2009

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