It’s a human feast, without the World Wars and some major staged, imperialistic aggressions in periods after, we as a species of evolution wouldn’t be where we are at. Slavery. Industrialisation. Banking system. Science. Military. Military buildup. Nuclear armament. Computer. Internet. Capitalism. Liberation of markets. Of course history is history, nonobjective, a human tale, perpetual in its end, a protocol of human suffering and idiotism – human produce history, recording ignorance and the ineptitude of humility – or we just who we are, this is who is human.
Regardless and undoubtfully war is the modern torch to set fire or bring light. A master piece. A cruel mind. A sadist. Merciless and giving, decapitating and conveying solace, a venemous solace, voracious, persistent and in its core a thorn revered in filthy gratefulness, suppurating hopes, empty smiles in shop windows, imitating the image of god.
And all this happens because we are deeply traumatized by the fact that nobody, no life form out there what we named universe seems to give a damn thing about us or they are already here and laugh in silence, either way, we can’t just fucking handle that we are an unacknowledged species in this or any or the non universe, despite trying really hard to get some attention presenting outrageously its narcissistic desperation.
What if there is for real nothing. And how would this nothing, which could be anything, translate. We can’t imagine nothing, but for sure we can imagine everything else.
We hold a war inside of us. Deep down there we know, that we don’t have to know. We sense, this is wrong. All this is wrong. (But) we also cover a fighter, haunted by our ancestors resting in purgatory. One day we will cut ourselves loose, and then God help yourself!
Life is the heaviest, strongest, most intense substance you can open your mind, your senses, cumming in your veins, drowning your pores, jamming holes and leaks. Anything else is escapism, pain, self-infliction, addiction to distract from yourself. We are not scared of outside. We are scared of who we are. We are scared of surrendering. We are scared of turning us in. Loosing what we think we have, which is everything to us, our car, our house, our job, wow our job, this machine disgorging benefits, profits, holidays, bonuses, awards, which offers us, if we only work hard enough, incorruptibility, but at the minimum, an entry in the history books of human kind. We leave an imprint, a heritage. Never be forgotten. Forgotten in a book full of lies and hypocritical analysis and assumptions, a book of survival and brutal deception.