What is this dream we have been sold?

Don’t tell me the change will come from within. How many competing interests exist in the world that are at this moment seeking to entrench themselves as deeply as possible? To maintain their limp-wristed-lockjaw handshake grip. Age old forces of destruction, colluding with each other, laughing in the face of hope, snivelling at the back of love. How strong must I (we) be to allow these demons to tumble back into an æonic sleep? No Iphone alarm needed, no dings. What kind of ferocious reminder do we need then? I will not look within, I will not resolve to foddering a spiritual principle. I see it there. What are we made of, are we made of the world? Are we in it? No step untraceable, a foul smelling refuse rising from the breadbasket of the world is lashing at our front door. Who now is asking me to fight?Netflix and chill, tinder and Netflix and chill and tinder and netflix and facebook, and twitter. Look at the phone, look up, look away, look at the phone. Theres a lull, look at the phone. Hey! Look at this video, LOLOMFG .

And are we now surprised, a lamentation from an early grave. I cannot imagine being deader than that. Even as we glide across the earth. Torpedo caskets glistening in the moonlight, slick with sputum. Irreverence gleaned from the cackling of a muffler, once a symbol of progress, is now death.

I am pounding on the gates of heaven, hammer-drill in hand. Ready to change the numerals on the door.  Tell me how easy it is, to rise as an emblem and march forward from the pyramid tip casting off a blank horizon. I really want to know…

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