Karma, Death, and all the things that wash over us when we aren't aware.
Wash it all away in a haze of blood so vicious that our mothers will weep.
Carry on our shoulders the burden of joy,
the burden of life everlasting,
because only the good die young and none of us are without sin.
Burn in fervor and fevered hatred.
Lust for the image in the mirror, a stranger reflected in our delusion.
Carrie has shared with us.
The Big Lie.
One of so many told to us every day.
You will be happy.
You will know what you want.
You will find the her, the him that is meant to be.
You will find the who.
The what.
The where.
But when?
And why?
How will we know?
Lies our mother feed us, suckling on her breast.
Lies our father told us in kindest tenderness.
The marriage is a sham.
All the love we have is just a lie.
Strangers in the mirrors.
Forgotten to ourselves.
We are married to the lie.
"We love ourselves."
"We love each other."
Hate is our last defense.
Hate is how we protect.
Love burns in a bitter rash of jealousy and eyes so petty.
Each other.
Ourselves.
The target is unimportant.
Love curls around you, a choking snake.
A warm blanket.
So happy in our discontent.
You don't know what you want.
None of us do.
So how will we ever know if we have it?
It.
The thing we desire most of all.
The thing to make us happy.
So many lies.
Should we find someone who won't lie?
Or just a liar we believe.
Like we'd even know the difference.
I see death in the eyes of God.
The one change so profound that we can't possibly ignore it.
Lying in our sickness.
Wrapped in our disease.
Our humanity.
Scarring a perfect world.
Lusting after wiry fantasies as they go dancing by.
Robbie told it best.
A ghost dance.
I see a god in myself, dying in mortal skin.
Blasphemy.
To say it?
Or to stop believing?
A haze on this world.
The blindness of forgetting descending on our insanity.
Insects and ants.
Trivial and meaningless.
Magnify what we cannot see.
Is it more important because it's bigger?
Less important because it's small?
God is in the details.
The rules of our world.
The balance that controls the mindless creatures we ignore.
The laws that wrap around us so tight they live deep inside our skin.
Karma.
What goes around comes around.
Especially the bad.
Warped in it's speed.
A smaller circle.
Why am I wearing a skin that is not my own?
This world is a punishment for sins too great to name.
Tongues cut out.
Wrapped in linen and buried alive.
The muck is deep now.
Deeper than before.
We cannot pull free without climbing on others.
Is that the test?
To see if we’ve learned that sacrifices are not a requirement.
Fiction is the wave of the future,
as we all grow too placid to open our eyes to the world around us.
Strap you cape on.
Flap your wings.
Tuck in your knees and hope to fly.
Our humanity holds us down.
Too heavy to reach heaven on our own.
Unless we are willing to reach heaven alone.
Save your fellow man.
Save their mortal soul.
Be kind and courteous against all measure of your true will.
If we all walk willingly in the muck then we will all survive.
Hold your hands and chant.
The ladder of heaven will lower.
The gates of gold will open.
All will be well and happy as we sing forever to a god we’ve never met.
But Death?
Death we have all seen.
Death can be measure and weighed and is never found wanting.
The final solution.
The only gate we all walk through.
The only ultimate unknown.
Death is worthy of my respect.
When a flower is picked, it dies.
Immediately.
But Death takes a while to show.
We have been separated from God.
From perfection and immortality.
That is why we begin to die the moment we think we’ve begun to live.
Death just takes a while to show.
Jehovah is a god of Death.
He gives us life to live but what does he ask of us?
To strive for a better Death.
How can he be a god of Life?
Everything we work for is unseen until we die.
There is no point to life because there is no life.
Death is the End.
Death is Always.
Death is the Beauty that I see.
Carry on our shoulders the burden of joy,
the burden of life everlasting,
because only the good die young and none of us are without sin.
Burn in fervor and fevered hatred.
Lust for the image in the mirror, a stranger reflected in our delusion.
Carrie has shared with us.
The Big Lie.
One of so many told to us every day.
You will be happy.
You will know what you want.
You will find the her, the him that is meant to be.
You will find the who.
The what.
The where.
But when?
And why?
How will we know?
Lies our mother feed us, suckling on her breast.
Lies our father told us in kindest tenderness.
The marriage is a sham.
All the love we have is just a lie.
Strangers in the mirrors.
Forgotten to ourselves.
We are married to the lie.
"We love ourselves."
"We love each other."
Hate is our last defense.
Hate is how we protect.
Love burns in a bitter rash of jealousy and eyes so petty.
Each other.
Ourselves.
The target is unimportant.
Love curls around you, a choking snake.
A warm blanket.
So happy in our discontent.
You don't know what you want.
None of us do.
So how will we ever know if we have it?
It.
The thing we desire most of all.
The thing to make us happy.
So many lies.
Should we find someone who won't lie?
Or just a liar we believe.
Like we'd even know the difference.
I see death in the eyes of God.
The one change so profound that we can't possibly ignore it.
Lying in our sickness.
Wrapped in our disease.
Our humanity.
Scarring a perfect world.
Lusting after wiry fantasies as they go dancing by.
Robbie told it best.
A ghost dance.
I see a god in myself, dying in mortal skin.
Blasphemy.
To say it?
Or to stop believing?
A haze on this world.
The blindness of forgetting descending on our insanity.
Insects and ants.
Trivial and meaningless.
Magnify what we cannot see.
Is it more important because it's bigger?
Less important because it's small?
God is in the details.
The rules of our world.
The balance that controls the mindless creatures we ignore.
The laws that wrap around us so tight they live deep inside our skin.
Karma.
What goes around comes around.
Especially the bad.
Warped in it's speed.
A smaller circle.
Why am I wearing a skin that is not my own?
This world is a punishment for sins too great to name.
Tongues cut out.
Wrapped in linen and buried alive.
The muck is deep now.
Deeper than before.
We cannot pull free without climbing on others.
Is that the test?
To see if we’ve learned that sacrifices are not a requirement.
Fiction is the wave of the future,
as we all grow too placid to open our eyes to the world around us.
Strap you cape on.
Flap your wings.
Tuck in your knees and hope to fly.
Our humanity holds us down.
Too heavy to reach heaven on our own.
Unless we are willing to reach heaven alone.
Save your fellow man.
Save their mortal soul.
Be kind and courteous against all measure of your true will.
If we all walk willingly in the muck then we will all survive.
Hold your hands and chant.
The ladder of heaven will lower.
The gates of gold will open.
All will be well and happy as we sing forever to a god we’ve never met.
But Death?
Death we have all seen.
Death can be measure and weighed and is never found wanting.
The final solution.
The only gate we all walk through.
The only ultimate unknown.
Death is worthy of my respect.
When a flower is picked, it dies.
Immediately.
But Death takes a while to show.
We have been separated from God.
From perfection and immortality.
That is why we begin to die the moment we think we’ve begun to live.
Death just takes a while to show.
Jehovah is a god of Death.
He gives us life to live but what does he ask of us?
To strive for a better Death.
How can he be a god of Life?
Everything we work for is unseen until we die.
There is no point to life because there is no life.
Death is the End.
Death is Always.
Death is the Beauty that I see.
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