Incoherent Ramblings

No one can control you.
It’s a choice you make – to bend to their will.
Sometimes it may even seem like it’s in your best interest.
Either way it’s your choice.
Something to consider.

Every stroke on the keyboard makes the next word that much easier to write. My conscious mind is not entirely aware of the intelligent force guiding my art, but it’s the same intelligent force that created all of existence, so I let it take control.

Sometimes it makes them love me. Sometimes it makes them hate me. Most of the time it’s both. They love me then they hate me.

Reality is a luxury not everyone can afford.

I have no choice but to acknowledge this: if so many are hiding so much, from themselves – then I must be doing the same.

What am I missing? Something, that I can be sure of.

We’re all missing something. It starts with the stories we tell ourselves. Well, what do we really know about ourselves, about who we are?

Humans existed on Earth for at least 200,000, years. Recorded history only goes back 6,000 years – so what were we doing for those 194,000?

They tell you we don’t know. You believe them.

They tell you they have to tax your family’s income which they use to bomb and murder other working families overseas, and you believe them.

They told you people with darker skin were subhuman – which made them acceptable to enslave. They exploited their labor to create a system that will eventually enslave you too – but with shinier chains. Yet somehow, you believed them.

They told you their schools would give you information needed to excel in this life, and you believed them.

They told you the only way to find happiness was to climb the ladders they put in your way. Kindergarten, first grade, then second. Then comes high school. But no happiness for you until you go to college. But nope sorry none still – now you have to get a job.

Then you have to find a wife, but then you both have to work everyday for 40 years, so they can collect that aforementioned tax. And you believe them.

You know what?

You’re right.

Nothing I’m writing seems likely at all. We should all, just believe them.

Wow. Sometimes my thoughts race faster than my body will allow.

Has anyone ever ask an Instagram girl if it’s worth it?

500 likes to let the world have your body forever.

Doesn’t necessarily seem like the ideal trade off, but what do I know?

I’m an artist not a business man.

Is access to everyone we’ve ever met through social media too much weight for our relationships to bare?

Imagine our parents coming home to each other, with no idea what their exes wore last night or had for brunch that morning.

Now, not only do we know and see that, we’re bombarded with beautiful strangers. They seem so perfect. It’s a wonder the relationship itself hasn’t become extinct. With divorce rates increasing, maybe we’re on our way. Maybe that’s what they want. Division.

There’s too much input in our receivers. Information overload. It’s no wonder we can’t discern reality. It changes too fast.

I’m convinced the people I see, are lost and they’re wrong, but they’re just as convinced it’s me.

So who’s right; who’s wrong?

All of us.

The way out is humility. Allow me to humble myself before you with the acknowledgement that I may very well be wrong, about everything. Let me take myself with a grain of salt. And why? Because that nigga Arthur my very well be dead wrong.

This is true.

Then again, so are you.

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