Hell is a place in the mind that manifests itself in reality. We have built a hell no one could have imagined. The totality of it is being made clear for us by the accumulation of knowledge. In a thousand years we will look at what we have made and who knows what we will think then. It's possible that we might tear it down then, make something new. Our history is one of revolution. Of change. The good ideas prevail over the bad ideas. Right over wrong. In the end...what really changes? People still have to eat.
Our core virtues are always the same. Our focus is never with them however, but in how to beat the system. If we perceive it as Us vs Them, then what do we do? IF we are truly at odds, why do we not fight? Or is it that we do not know who to fight or how to fight them? Perhaps it is that we must learn to coexist with every one and learn to share and enjoy this beautiful world, and it is a staggeringly beautiful world.
How do you explain aesthetics to someone who has been tortured as a child? How do you explain to them that we are not all evil? Deep within all of us is the seed of vile hatred that needs little more than emotional starvation to bring it upward and have it made plain for the world to see. If things are going to change, what will they be changing into? Can you make this world livable? Can you make people better somehow? Some truths are so tragic that you can hardly talk about them. There is death of course. There are taxes.
More and more I think that everything is connected. I look for similarities, and I see them everywhere. The system is closed. We already knew that.
Every day is a struggle against what I perceive to be as my mortality. My finite existence. Is morality little more than a hindrance? Do I need to manipulate my way to the top? Top of what? This is not a game. This is not funny anymore.
Movies are made in which characters in the movie talk about the situation being portrayed in the movie as not being a movie. "its not like it is in the movies" they'll say. "This isn't a movie" the heroin says before killing a man in cold blood. Yes it is. It is a movie. It's just fiction. All of it is only fiction. Even the events of your own life are affected by this great art of mass media. These artificial experiences that we all are able to share. I find myself sickened by my own thoughts. I am held prisoner by my skull. My eyelids will not open. " Its not like in the movies"
Its not like they say it's not like it is in the movies. Maybe its exactly that way and we don't want to admit it to ourselves because we see how wrong we are about almost everything.
Maybe we are just embarrassed to see ourselves as real. Bellies full and shit clinging to our ass hair, jerking off to pictures of people we will never meet. Smoking and avoiding police. Judging the entirety of our kind with little pipes made in China. There isn't anything good at the end of this reasoning. There hardly ever is anything good that ever happens after you realize what you've been participating in. If I could see it from space I'd probably throw up.
Why did they kill those people? Why must they steal? Why is everyone lying about GOD?