weedmonkey
05-02-2004, 04:49 PM
Insanity
:eek: "Life is a mask... or is it not?" At times during sleep or the unconsciousness of mind, we are privileged enough to steal a glance at the world in her stark nakedness. Beauty of course lies in the eyes of the beholder, yet ugliness need not always be restrained within the two sockets of the skull. To see what I saw, through these very tools of vision, is impossible. If luck does not let me down, as she usually does, I'll try to write out my vision. As I opened my infant eyes to see the world without her usual layers of clothing for the first time, horror struck me like a bolt of lightening and left fear implanted deep within my sub-conscious; I could feel a part of me whither and die. I've always had a taste for the abnormal, paranormal and hyper normal things in life. Anything out of the normal fascinates me. I don't know how I developed this taste, but I recall it from a very tender age. Stars were my first fascination, then a million of other fascinations slowly developed with age... but they all were anything but normal. My latest fascination lies in the art of writing down pictures. We all know how difficult it is to paint a picture, but let me tell you, to write one is even more. In a picture, time stands still. We are able to see only what is presented in front of us. Of course it's the same for all forms of art, but in paintings it is more noticeable. So I thought, "why not try to write a picture?" A blood storm rises from towards the east, sweeping off everything that's anything, of their feet. Decayed ancient corpses uprooted from their shallow graves hurtle through the air dancing like puppets from a master hand. Evil resides within sweet disguises fooling the pure and ruthlessly punishing them for being so innocent. To trust is to invite misfortune.... and to live is worse than death. The low suicide rates shock me. But then, maybe humans like to live in chaos, another gift graciously brought in by evolution? Masks worn on barely visible tooth pick like structures flood the overcrowded spherical space. Some here, some there. What lies behind these hideous-beautiful masks remain a mystery. The most we can do is guess and try to judge what lurks within the exterior. Ripped into shreds and scattered on glossy marbled floors, the free thinking minds waltz with fake calmness, lost within the ocean of artificial faces. Pure droplets with sparks of divinity are the only sources of warmth, which sustain this cold cavern. What lies beneath the polished grave stones? Most probably a heap of decaying flesh and wood. What lies beneath the honest faces? Maybe a casket full of lies and dishonest schemes that target personal benefits. Out of sheer chance, a few gifted with true innocence are born and struggle for existence in this bloody battlefield, where everyone you see is an enemy, who all will suck you dry of life if even a glimpse of your true selves is revealed to them. To live in this world, yet not be a part of it is very difficult indeed. Here people can't stand anyone's good fortune, other than that of their own. You buy a new house, car or just succeed in being a good human being, and you'll find eyes inflamed by hatred in every corner ready to strangle you dead. What has brought these filthy attitudes and has influenced almost everyone's life camouflaging itself on the walls of complex personalities? It can't possibly be a genetically inherited trait or something one learns of own accord. For why would an innocent infant want to learn how to rape someone else's wife? No, I think this is mass brainwashing. We are forcibly brainwashed into deteriorating ourselves, being social animals and having to live in a society shaped by alien minds. But we are fools to put all the blame on society as GOD has given us an instrument, our conscience, to discriminate and filter things before taking them in. Unfortunately as we have abused almost everything made for a good purpose, we have exploited our divine instrument too, to help us sink deeper into the quicksand until it finally consumes us in totality and farts with sick contentment. Impurities are so neatly interwoven with our real essence that they have nearly become inseparable. It is too great of a strain on delicate minds to differentiate among the two. So great is it's power, I'm telling you, that I no longer know who is writing this essay. Is it I, the individual who likes to believe that he is free of brainwashing and fakeness; or is it I, the personification of impurity itself, trying to shed a faint light of sense in this insane night of confusion?
:eek: "Life is a mask... or is it not?" At times during sleep or the unconsciousness of mind, we are privileged enough to steal a glance at the world in her stark nakedness. Beauty of course lies in the eyes of the beholder, yet ugliness need not always be restrained within the two sockets of the skull. To see what I saw, through these very tools of vision, is impossible. If luck does not let me down, as she usually does, I'll try to write out my vision. As I opened my infant eyes to see the world without her usual layers of clothing for the first time, horror struck me like a bolt of lightening and left fear implanted deep within my sub-conscious; I could feel a part of me whither and die. I've always had a taste for the abnormal, paranormal and hyper normal things in life. Anything out of the normal fascinates me. I don't know how I developed this taste, but I recall it from a very tender age. Stars were my first fascination, then a million of other fascinations slowly developed with age... but they all were anything but normal. My latest fascination lies in the art of writing down pictures. We all know how difficult it is to paint a picture, but let me tell you, to write one is even more. In a picture, time stands still. We are able to see only what is presented in front of us. Of course it's the same for all forms of art, but in paintings it is more noticeable. So I thought, "why not try to write a picture?" A blood storm rises from towards the east, sweeping off everything that's anything, of their feet. Decayed ancient corpses uprooted from their shallow graves hurtle through the air dancing like puppets from a master hand. Evil resides within sweet disguises fooling the pure and ruthlessly punishing them for being so innocent. To trust is to invite misfortune.... and to live is worse than death. The low suicide rates shock me. But then, maybe humans like to live in chaos, another gift graciously brought in by evolution? Masks worn on barely visible tooth pick like structures flood the overcrowded spherical space. Some here, some there. What lies behind these hideous-beautiful masks remain a mystery. The most we can do is guess and try to judge what lurks within the exterior. Ripped into shreds and scattered on glossy marbled floors, the free thinking minds waltz with fake calmness, lost within the ocean of artificial faces. Pure droplets with sparks of divinity are the only sources of warmth, which sustain this cold cavern. What lies beneath the polished grave stones? Most probably a heap of decaying flesh and wood. What lies beneath the honest faces? Maybe a casket full of lies and dishonest schemes that target personal benefits. Out of sheer chance, a few gifted with true innocence are born and struggle for existence in this bloody battlefield, where everyone you see is an enemy, who all will suck you dry of life if even a glimpse of your true selves is revealed to them. To live in this world, yet not be a part of it is very difficult indeed. Here people can't stand anyone's good fortune, other than that of their own. You buy a new house, car or just succeed in being a good human being, and you'll find eyes inflamed by hatred in every corner ready to strangle you dead. What has brought these filthy attitudes and has influenced almost everyone's life camouflaging itself on the walls of complex personalities? It can't possibly be a genetically inherited trait or something one learns of own accord. For why would an innocent infant want to learn how to rape someone else's wife? No, I think this is mass brainwashing. We are forcibly brainwashed into deteriorating ourselves, being social animals and having to live in a society shaped by alien minds. But we are fools to put all the blame on society as GOD has given us an instrument, our conscience, to discriminate and filter things before taking them in. Unfortunately as we have abused almost everything made for a good purpose, we have exploited our divine instrument too, to help us sink deeper into the quicksand until it finally consumes us in totality and farts with sick contentment. Impurities are so neatly interwoven with our real essence that they have nearly become inseparable. It is too great of a strain on delicate minds to differentiate among the two. So great is it's power, I'm telling you, that I no longer know who is writing this essay. Is it I, the individual who likes to believe that he is free of brainwashing and fakeness; or is it I, the personification of impurity itself, trying to shed a faint light of sense in this insane night of confusion?