Ceaseless jeremiads
Tropic of Capricorn by Henry Miller is where i came across the term jeremiad, in that context i've ever since wished i could in my own way emulate it.
My experience is extremely limited, but i do think i make more out of what i can use than would be expected.
To be explicit is to sign over a warrant for not being taken seriously, but also being taken seriously isn't the point either.
I am voicing my thoughts into a void and expect noone to care or take notice. It is my pleasure, believe me, dear abyss, the dark corners into which i speak before lying down in soft dreams (a 2nd pill was taken).
The positive that is the positive for me is made of the negative.
Reversal, the matrix, twist ending. Stare in dumbfounded terror at what used to give you laughs, comfort, security as what spells out injustice, see the unvarnished realities as where a sigh of relief can be made, that is where surprise and awe glide in, like specters only seen in gradations.
A mysticism doesn't atone however, in the end nothing good comes from anything, only a perspective that hungers and thirsts for knowing and understanding. And when one is struck completely dumb by the limitless errors in smallest and biggest things, one rests, and continues their dark pleasure the next day. For on a molecular level, we change if aware into beings that say what the deafening mob annoyingly misinterpret with haughty assurance. Smile dark minions of the hidden, smile saymoi for a promised unrelenting foray into the shit and slime of human constructs.
My experience is extremely limited, but i do think i make more out of what i can use than would be expected.
To be explicit is to sign over a warrant for not being taken seriously, but also being taken seriously isn't the point either.
I am voicing my thoughts into a void and expect noone to care or take notice. It is my pleasure, believe me, dear abyss, the dark corners into which i speak before lying down in soft dreams (a 2nd pill was taken).
The positive that is the positive for me is made of the negative.
Reversal, the matrix, twist ending. Stare in dumbfounded terror at what used to give you laughs, comfort, security as what spells out injustice, see the unvarnished realities as where a sigh of relief can be made, that is where surprise and awe glide in, like specters only seen in gradations.
A mysticism doesn't atone however, in the end nothing good comes from anything, only a perspective that hungers and thirsts for knowing and understanding. And when one is struck completely dumb by the limitless errors in smallest and biggest things, one rests, and continues their dark pleasure the next day. For on a molecular level, we change if aware into beings that say what the deafening mob annoyingly misinterpret with haughty assurance. Smile dark minions of the hidden, smile saymoi for a promised unrelenting foray into the shit and slime of human constructs.
