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| <<<>>> |
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Lost Boys |
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| Created by Decius at
| [+ favourites]
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Look at all these assholes, dancing around like they feel something otherworldly.
Dressing so they look their attitudes, breeding confidence from outside in... accepting what the world tells them is confidence.
"Do I feel it?"
They don't even ask themselves. They have to feel it. They are wearing the shirt with the symbol, sweating, and drinking the ecstasy. Hybrids of shit and a defiled hope to feel something pure in their worlds of impurity.
You want to feel what I feel? You want to fall in love? You want to be rich? Then where are your priorities?
You want confidence to walk the way you want to walk, but you don't know what that is anymore. You want what they want, because what they want is what everyone thinks they want.
Where is your sacrifice? Is your ambitionless nine to five job a sacrifice to you? It is failure... it is the coward's way. Yes... the world is full of cowards who seek what you seek... the joy of courage and success, but you will never taste it because you've sold your soul so many times, you're spiritually bankrupt.
Your shadow is more consistent and pure than you. It is loyal, it is simple and honest. Does it care for color or smell? It follows its destiny. You don't believe in it because you shunned it miles ago.
Why do you think you love her? She is not pure or beautiful. She is only out of your reach, you weak minded fool. You glorify her position by her demands. You're blind. Who are you? Who are you to determine what you want? Do you differentiate between your desires and things that are good for you? Are you able to think above that of a dog and analyze your future and not simply walk into it?
You're not a victim, you bitch. The world has not been cruel to you... it is cruel to everyone. So we are a family of victims. Then who do we blame? Open your eyes, moron. You're not the target of a celestial conspiracy. You're not that important. Make yourself important by being the one, the one, the one to escape the hand you've been dealt and say "Fuck it!". Succeed even if you are a victim. Don't accept their pity. They'll turn you into a beggar.
Money, politics, conspiracy. This is a generation of blasphemy. Censorship gives men the power to control the populace. We protect our children of natural love yet display disembowelment and hangings. A dead body is less incredible than two men fucking.
Tip out of fear of reputation.
It's normal, because you're such a nice guy.
No you're not.
You're a cheap bastard that will wait in line to save half a cent per liter of gas.
Where's your consistency in action you fuck?
Why does this blonde waitress deserve a tip? What has she done to get the money you slave for? You are giving your soul away for the money that you give away to sell your soul. To display that you are a wide hearted man without a care in the world.
But you care.
You worry.
You drink, don't you?
Of course you do.
Reality isn't fun when it's clear.
Look at me, and be in awe. Fear my eyes, because I will look through you without guise. And you will not have the strength that I do, because you live in lies. I can shatter them, that is why you don't like me. That is why you fear me. I see you. I see your hypocrisy. I see your foolishness, and this makes me valuable to you. I can point to you... and through my eyes you will see why.
Intimidated by me. Your insecurities grow and claim to know who I am. But you do not know who I am. You will fool yourself into such judgments, then proceed to avoid contact with me. Why? Because you are an idiot. You couldn't fathom my successes even if you tried. They would bring about your awareness. There is little in this world you fear more than your own awareness.
Stumbling down a hill, raping everything on the way, disenchanting the perfect world you've created around you. It's all shit, jack. I'm telling you that, because when you prance around higher and more wide eyed than an owl, you are aware that you could not achieve this in sound mind. You are not even you.
Who are you?
You don't know.
What makes you think god will grace you with heaven if you went through life as a hypocrite? You've earned nothing, and you will keep returning until you've found yourself.
I'm not there yet either, my friend.
But at least I'm trying. |
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| Created by Decius at
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