To all of the people out in the universe intent on finding their niche; get over it. It is pathetic. The shields you create of personas are pathetic. "I'm a Type-A" says the overworked business man. "I'm Sagittarius" says the woman behind the counter. "I have anxiety, so I can't sleep," says the bloke drinking his third energy drink. COME OUT OF THE CLOSET! Stop hiding behind labels.
These rioters in London. The police would have shot them back in the day. Louis XIV had them annihilated. But then again they did not have to deal with the encryption standards of a blackberry and its messenger app. I think americans would shoot them; imagine if a bunch of rioters burned down the Washington Monument or Mount Rushmore. There was war declared over three buildings, four planes and countless (but somehow counted) people. At least shoot to wound. Come on, we live in a society that kills people for any reason. I am talking the Global society here. Borders are just a luxury we use to differentiate ourselves from our fellow humans; but don't tell your-self that; it will make murder more difficult.
I have just taken to accepting that we live in a society that is the very evil we claim to abhor. When you accept that, things just seem to smooth out; like floating out to sea.
The memories are surfacing again.
One minute I am walking down a street in rome - circa 100 BC. The next I am in a cave seeking shelter for the night. The arms of my own naked tribal worrier around me; swords slung low around our waists. The next I am camped outside a city in a fresh mammoth skinned tent; the smell is hideous still. Again lying naked in the arms of my own giant beast of a man.
I knew they had never gone anywhere. The only reason I survived at the museum so long is that I was usually right. The knowledge came from somewhere. I hoped it was clever reasoning; but I am not that clever. Memory, plain and true.
These are the first memories I have had with anything pleasant. They have finally made sex appealing; I wake up every morning harder than chinese algebra. That never happened in puberty. I was trapped inside a nightmare. Wet dreams were literal. I would wake up and the bed would be drenched in sweat. When sleepwalking arose, more sleep-working - I dug trenches in the back-yard - my parents finally let me see the workings of my brain. But still nothing. The only solution was to lock me in my room for the nights.
How can meeting a man for thirty seconds send you into the tailspin of your life? The answer is so maddening. It is on the tip of my brain. I know it.
These rioters in London. The police would have shot them back in the day. Louis XIV had them annihilated. But then again they did not have to deal with the encryption standards of a blackberry and its messenger app. I think americans would shoot them; imagine if a bunch of rioters burned down the Washington Monument or Mount Rushmore. There was war declared over three buildings, four planes and countless (but somehow counted) people. At least shoot to wound. Come on, we live in a society that kills people for any reason. I am talking the Global society here. Borders are just a luxury we use to differentiate ourselves from our fellow humans; but don't tell your-self that; it will make murder more difficult.
I have just taken to accepting that we live in a society that is the very evil we claim to abhor. When you accept that, things just seem to smooth out; like floating out to sea.
The memories are surfacing again.
One minute I am walking down a street in rome - circa 100 BC. The next I am in a cave seeking shelter for the night. The arms of my own naked tribal worrier around me; swords slung low around our waists. The next I am camped outside a city in a fresh mammoth skinned tent; the smell is hideous still. Again lying naked in the arms of my own giant beast of a man.
I knew they had never gone anywhere. The only reason I survived at the museum so long is that I was usually right. The knowledge came from somewhere. I hoped it was clever reasoning; but I am not that clever. Memory, plain and true.
These are the first memories I have had with anything pleasant. They have finally made sex appealing; I wake up every morning harder than chinese algebra. That never happened in puberty. I was trapped inside a nightmare. Wet dreams were literal. I would wake up and the bed would be drenched in sweat. When sleepwalking arose, more sleep-working - I dug trenches in the back-yard - my parents finally let me see the workings of my brain. But still nothing. The only solution was to lock me in my room for the nights.
How can meeting a man for thirty seconds send you into the tailspin of your life? The answer is so maddening. It is on the tip of my brain. I know it.
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