TESTAMENTS TO
A STRANGER: AN INFINITE SKY
Would you rather fly or fall? Do you think the collective consciousness of humanity
is more important than the establishment of a single identity within the person? If you had one place to dance in the
world, and to see the moon die, where would you be?
I can't think right now, head clouded, facts, data, inserted mechanic structures
need to be placed to function in here---this bloated room. Call me pessimistic but I would never believe the whole of humanity could be anything more than compromised/averaged as
it is. Majority opinion needs a quick emotional flame to unite. Otherwise society is consumed, self-absorbed,
oblivious: cars are shields and windows are tinted. No one see on the inside and they like it that way. Must we always
protect the children from their own play things? I know why, yet it is so far away from me. I am so removed, and
I have a corner in my room where I like to sleep. I like to dream of skin and wrinkled blue eyes that are deep like
crushed velvet and walking without being able to see what I'm walking on, sort of fading in & out, twinkling if you will.
Fly or fall, gills or wings, to obtain always needs the help of mechanical things. This cycle of life is strange.
I have found it is hypocrisy, a contradiction. I am beautiful and ugly. My skin is pale and my eyes brown and
my hair is black and my blood is red, pigments just as anyone else's. My mind runs circles around itself.
The moon is a satellite to the earth made of stones and concrete materials, bonded atoms, probably a lot of carbon.
Electrons satellite the nucleus in atoms. Earth is a nucleus of organic matter and must there be more than these facts?
Is there? Are we not insignificant? should I be more than this flesh, these flaking skin cells, and I like the mud myself.
I like the nothingness sometimes, the fact that this is pure---these facts---we are made of these. Yet, dreams infest
me. I still wonder is it an air of inserted reality. Must I be more? I am what I am. I am soft flesh. My
bones break. I like my frailty; it gives me strength, mortality, humility. I like my infinite universe; it gives
me space. I am alone truly, but I still like my dreams, my subconscious mind, my humanity. I like beauty even
though it is subjective; it is not there. I like to feel even when I know I should think. I know this society
I resent. I am a part of them; I am a part of you, of everyone. I hate it and I love it and I keep coming
to the idea: as far as thought process and patterns go that no one needs to do anything. The human race does not need
to think as one or feel or care even. When I was especially euphoric and high, I spoke of an idea of a collective human
decay, that oblivion will strike because we are what we think collectively. Determinism is a force that is impossible
to defeat. It has us by the guts, and it likes to squeeze. Progression is a hope but like any hope it is only
based on values to the individual. Nature is instinctive and oblivious. A deer will follow its brethren even as
just a moment before it got splattered all over cold, hard reality: the cement of destruction and determinism. I feel
sometimes like a child in thinking, in the way that I like to be defiant and say I will not do such a thing. Humans
learn from their mistakes, from history ... right? I wish I could remember with such clarity. Mass unity requires
generalization, generalization requires a little smudging of the facts, a little stretching to fit the diversity of social,
parental, historical determinism, etc. Even if we started from the same point, we know each will go off having their
own whimsical desires of what has happened, what will, what is perfect, what is right, where to go from here. Often,
you have to have hope to keep people together. Have to make it somewhat simple, somewhat dulled, have to have something
concrete, or at least seeming to be. I am an idealistic realist still. I think if a few will lead and know what
the hell is going on then maybe as the rest is so intent on following, we will lead them to water and not blood. Masses
need a leader with a voice to clarify their own. The standard of living and knowledge is increasing through out the
centuries. With the right guide, I believe we will advance to somewhere (where, who knows?). The question is:
are you a leader or a follower? I've never felt comfortable doing either, but I have found pushing people, suggesting is all
you can really do. Trying to execute something only permeates its existence, they have a cause now, a common relationship.
If I change, if you do and we spread ourselves, give people an open door, maybe they will follow, maybe. So yes,
I think the individual is more important, especially if you want to start something. Humanity as a whole does not have a conscience
or consciousness. Individual humans do. So light a fuse with me, and we'll race into the darkness together. I
always did like to know how bombs ticked. and really when you are removed, when you realize it is nothing but something, it's
everything and nothing. It doesn't matter this way or that and really it's all just for
interest, finding a spark, some beauty, I don't know. I feel kind of free. I could be anywhere in the world and
I would be free. I have this spot in me that nothing can touch but, yet it is empathetic and it feels. It is indestructible
but vulnerable. The moon can fly right the fuck down
on me and I'd smile, knowing this. Do you know this utter freedom. Do you know this? Tell me, are your
eyes mine looking up in this infinite sky?
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