death sex shopping and becoming a beetle
Posted by lahar9jhadav on April 3, 2007
i am an animal…not a bird,
they say i am a
in an animal body
once i saw that body
from six metres above
i was me then
back into the animal
the idiot inside
felt the same tho’
just lately the scream inside has subsided…i used to see the picture, whilst doing the washing up, whilst smiling nicely to another monkey…wherever…a picture of ‘me’ just screaming, silently…
life is wonderful.
last night dread enfolded me…a creeping clammy sensation of fear mixed with sadness…death was curling its tale around someone i love…an innocent child….
life is wonderful, isn’t it?
everyone i see – all dead today tomorrow….
i look at the civilization….and see that the dead are aready in control…the living are moved by the dead
that’s why shopping is the number one prize of all who seek – no longer is religion the opiate of the masses, the thing that holds the gate against the meaninglessness…no, the opiate of choice now, is shopping….
all based in the sex center- the place where we vie with death….now the ‘little death’ is become a trip to the shopping mall…in whatever guise it takes…
if we can buy, ….the orgasm comes… and we feel that we are alive….
but it doesn’t last of course and we must buy again….and again…..and again….and again…
we satisfy our own personal ‘imagination’ of ourselves by what we buy- for some it is clothes, for others it is self development workshops, for others it is shiny trinkets for the ‘home’….but all the variations are just a function of the same emptiness- the hole at the centre of our selves.
for those who cannot buy…there is violence against those who can
for those who wish, there is the path of endless suffering where payment is extracted nevertheless….
aiming towards the silence where the struggle becomes pure,
like a tree, or a beetle.
ps Franz Kafka wrote a book about becoming some sort of a beetle, you can get it here if you like…
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