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Tuesday, October 27, 2009

These Fields, They Move...

These fields move,
Like the surface of the sun.
The task of living life,
Is never truly done.

When one life does pass,
The world does not stand still,
Instead it moves much faster,
After swallowing a pill.

When you smell what you smell,
See what you see,
Breath what you breath,
Be what you be,
There is a stop-loss for words,
A cessation of power,
A deafening silence,
A collapsing old tower.

When you do what you do,
Touch what you touch,
Feel what you feel,
Add others as such,
Love comes with ease,
Hate without reason,
Like without leave,
And you acknowledge no season.

As the end grows much nearer,
The lyrics grow clearer.
The chorus dies out,
But with one final pout.

You feel but gravity,
Asserting its force.
You touch but depravity,
In its natural course.

You get lost in her eyes,
A trance of deep caring.
You forget all the lies,
You heart, it mends tearing.

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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.