Empty People

A thousand five hundred (1500) empty
people. All together, packaged in a room.
I am haunted by the thoughts of a
zombie-nation, all against each other, all
against me. I am haunted by thoughts of
a haunted life-time. A life of emptiness,
solitude, darkness. People that I have
once loved, turning into empty shells or
perhaps marble statues. Magical thinking:
waiting for that sign – waiting to be freed.
The inability to fit in, to compromise, to
be assimilated. The unwillingness to do
so. The urge, the surge, the power, the
instinct to rebel, to refuse, to be different.
To actually have a personality, to be
infallible, to be intelligible, to question.

BEAUTY

My consciousness has been forcibly shifted to an alternate reality.
I did not want this change but I had no choice. I still have some
bonds with this reality that seem to be nonetheless quite karmic. In
this reality there are thousands of eyes all around you, watching
you, judging you, absorbing you. Here the roads go in circles so
you always return where you came from. Here people know
everything about everyone – a truly biologically panoptistic society.
Hedonistic conservatism prevails. And there I am (in a hypothetical future)–
standing like a prick
in the middle of the street,
covered in red,
wings severed,
my pride taken away,
and all I am left with is my erect penis.
I live my life in utter dissatisfaction, or perhaps detachment. The
little person in my head rings “I HATE YOU”, and I realise there
is a little person in my head that is ringing “I HATE YOU” not to
me, but to the reality that surrounds us: “We have waited far too
long for this. It is time we escape not only this, but any physical
reality; it is time to embark for a higher existence. An existence
without matter nor clutter. No fragmentation and no
individualisation. A superior existence of love, purity, thought,
energy, beauty.”

Thought Equation

I think therefore I am
Without thought I am not
Yet thought is all I am
Thought is me,
Or thought and me?
The sum of one’s thoughts
Is what one is.
Thought process passive,
Thought process active.
Thought-form transcends,
Thought-form creates.

Himself. He’s just trying to understand himself like everyone else. His thoughts just reflect back to himself. His understanding of the world leads to the understanding of himself. His only reference is himself. The world he resides in is his own creation. The world inside him is his own creation. He is his own creation. He is trapped in his own creation. He is creation himself. Or should I say… herself?