Saturday, June 4, 2016

imposed determinations forward.

i conquer.

there are five points to every war. long have they together gone

without facing persecutions. war is myself
facing me who faces you, wishing not to
without violence. war is us facing those
from elsewhere whose culture seems a variant

and war is also us facing other nations facing the world
facing itself,

eating itself backwards, paralleled by the wars we choose not to face
of which we'd gain clarity.

my eyes
cannot be kept any longer believing this. i am to be without traditions

as men are not gods, are not worth
being bothered with. such is the tragedy of our lives. such is the

birth of tragedy.

i believe you know that deep inside every part of you
is the ability to tear apart without attaching to the act of doing so.
the way to resist the frustration that we are not
tearing walls with
fingernails, at least, is a reminder

this resistance allows us at most to survive.
it also allows us resistance to fully believe
we all really are on one plane.

we are
without value. without value, we are not too poor to get out on bail.

nurture that which parallels war-

if to be determined, determine this as the self as the revolution, spinning
around it. we are our environments.

lose everything that is not needed. do not compromise needs.

rescue self from excess. do not carry as much as is carried.

our revolution is here. allow it to speak to you
and to speak to others. allow yourself to speak to it.
understand

it takes place during the present, and this wisdom
is reviving and regenerating as is.

life is a foreign warfare- something seen as that
which needs to be paid for and given value. everyone

is addicted to something- thus making things revolting. though i
feel disgust, i sympathize.
i am seeing what is inside me through others.

the word "tragedy" fastens itself at this. we are not gods
or perhaps we are and it greatly disappoints.

we are the ones that give ourselves formalities to overhaul our disappointments,
stimulated by the simulations of nature, entrancing us.
i feel guilty for my addictions to distractions.

the sunlight continues.

i do not understand doing my best- but to be fair, the idea
of doing my best exhausts me. it poses an authority.

it seems as though i will live forever.