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Sunday, April 10, 2011

The Martyr Within the Martyr

Am I a rich man?
Rich in mind, rich in matter, rich in soul?
I would like to think so; I think we would all like to think so, but does thinking so, make it so?
I'd say so, in some way, shape, or form. I'm rich in mind if I never conform, and I'm rich is soul so long as my soul is warm with compassion,
But I'll be honest... it lacks compassion sometimes, for those who have hurt me, have verbally lashed the bodily stronghold and burnt me,
And it hurts, lacking compassion for them... lacking a forgiveness I wish I could simply hand out,
But I can't... and I've tried, and tried again, only to be torn down from my good intentions zen,
And I wondered... what made people so bitter?
Because if given the choice between a sweet apple fritter or litter, I would take the fritter;
But the fritter is quick satisfaction for an ancient question involving attraction, or a lack thereof;
A lack of verbal traction in kind words as compared to insults, which burn like a complimentary contraction of the positive aspects of social abstraction.

50 good people could compliment you,
And then comes a mean word, straight out of the blue,
And what are you going to pay attention too?
The cruel words; they make your stomach churn like the flu,
Because we always take the negative as the truth,
Or give it more weight than a positive booth of good features.

Why is it the negative outweighs the good?
What made us think that the bad things should superimpose what is best in us?
Asbestos, the idea that the good is fireproof, but regardless, leaves us with lung cancer, and busted under the hoof of whose bigger,
Not better; we always talk about the record setters whose arrogance fetters their chance to be better than the average record setter,
But they never learn,
And it's almost my turn to be tested,
And best it, as a record setter of good intentions; I aim to redefine the conventions of societal contravention.

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The world is meaningless,

there is no God or gods, there are no morals, the universe is not moving inexorably towards any higher purpose.
All meaning is man-made, so make your own, and make it well.
Do not treat life as a way to pass the time until you die.
Do not try to "find yourself", you must make yourself.
Choose what you want to find meaningful and live, create, love, hate, cry, destroy, fight and die for it.
Do not let your life and your values and your actions slip easily into any mold, other that that which you create for yourself, and say with conviction, "This is who I make myself".
Do not give in to hope.
Remember that nothing you do has any significance beyond that with which you imbue it.
Whatever you do, do it for its own sake.
When the universe looks on with indifference, laugh, and shout back, "Fuck You!".
Rembember that to fight meaninglessness is futile, but fight anyway, in spite of and because of its futility.
The world may be empty of meaning, but it is a blank canvas on which to paint meanings of your own.
Live deliberately. You are free.