Post by Evergreen on Nov 5, 2022 19:16:23 GMT -5
The lightning through the battery is the source of all movement. The fluids which churned round and round in the clouds and fell down to the tippy-top of the rolling hill, then slid and drained all the way down the slope to a plain and further down, into a ditch, between the cracks of rocks through an arcade of subterranean caves and finally out into a meadow in a rolling valley. They picked up minerals, bits of flowers, and threads of fungi from the soil and intermingled them along the way. Confusion of uprooted essences resulted in a bizarre perfume confusing the animals that passed by. It all eventually percolated into the cursed, separated puddle that is inextricably apart and away, totally censored and barred from normal reality, at the bottom of the lowest valley. Something nobody will ever see or touch, but everyone will dream about, and it will emotionally exhaust them. But they will tweet like esoteric birds, "What is sexuality?", "What is sexuality?", and they will never know that sexuality is fluids. It's just fluids, bro.
Those that are apart from the immanent psychosis of this fallen world, yet somehow subvert and reflect the psychosis back upon itself, are blessed. Is is possible? I think so, because the changes that are occurring to society right now are a trial of separation. There must be an outside. In reality the outside is everywhere because the fringe is really the center of everything. Everyone is completely concerned, obsessed, and occupied with the fringe. The news tells you that you are broken and not to trust yourself but you are always here, you hear the birds tweeting in the background and you are the center of everything. Your perception is here. Of course nature blooms in incremental complexity but we cannot go there if we have no yet achieved the most basic, most primal separation between us and them. If we have not yet stoked the flames of the Black Sun with the anguish of our desire we have gone nowhere. A good portion of the storage of society and its computers goes to manipulating you, is that not endearing?
Could there be cottages that are 'apart' from society? A difficulty arises in this, with a shout out to something called "Her Divine Grace", because when one is permeated with life, what one does is not what one does. It is always shifting, twisting, turning, and changing. It does not even matter the content of what one says. It rather matters the threads that tie together what one says, which run between the lines and may be vaguely considered an "aesthetic" or some otherwise inexplicable yet consistently perceptible order. How can one capture this? Well, one way is to understand that this so-called aesthetic is actually an echo of the most ancient nobility, which is the nobility of the nomads. What we know of as nobility arose from storage, because there has to be wealth and preserves in order for nobility to exist. There has to be an enclosure, so there has to be a boundary, and within the heart of the boundary something to protect. This is the essence of the idea of the so-called neolithic revolution: The beginning of this concept of nobility predicated upon the anxiety of losing its storage, and upon the procuring of servants to protect it, in however indirect ways. The 'late stage' of civilization is defined by when the anxiety of this nobility losing its storage reaches its maximal point, and just so you know all our anxiety in society is just a projection of the most basic anxiety of nobility, which is supported by the images of the 'outside' which is projected on the screens of today and processed by the corrupted reason and which is countered by more subtle nobility of the nomads of today. These are the secrets of storage and I will tell you more some other day when I have more storage in my heart. For now I'm being ravished and raptured by some UFO beam endlessly hexing me, quirking me up and tweaking me out.
Those that are apart from the immanent psychosis of this fallen world, yet somehow subvert and reflect the psychosis back upon itself, are blessed. Is is possible? I think so, because the changes that are occurring to society right now are a trial of separation. There must be an outside. In reality the outside is everywhere because the fringe is really the center of everything. Everyone is completely concerned, obsessed, and occupied with the fringe. The news tells you that you are broken and not to trust yourself but you are always here, you hear the birds tweeting in the background and you are the center of everything. Your perception is here. Of course nature blooms in incremental complexity but we cannot go there if we have no yet achieved the most basic, most primal separation between us and them. If we have not yet stoked the flames of the Black Sun with the anguish of our desire we have gone nowhere. A good portion of the storage of society and its computers goes to manipulating you, is that not endearing?
Could there be cottages that are 'apart' from society? A difficulty arises in this, with a shout out to something called "Her Divine Grace", because when one is permeated with life, what one does is not what one does. It is always shifting, twisting, turning, and changing. It does not even matter the content of what one says. It rather matters the threads that tie together what one says, which run between the lines and may be vaguely considered an "aesthetic" or some otherwise inexplicable yet consistently perceptible order. How can one capture this? Well, one way is to understand that this so-called aesthetic is actually an echo of the most ancient nobility, which is the nobility of the nomads. What we know of as nobility arose from storage, because there has to be wealth and preserves in order for nobility to exist. There has to be an enclosure, so there has to be a boundary, and within the heart of the boundary something to protect. This is the essence of the idea of the so-called neolithic revolution: The beginning of this concept of nobility predicated upon the anxiety of losing its storage, and upon the procuring of servants to protect it, in however indirect ways. The 'late stage' of civilization is defined by when the anxiety of this nobility losing its storage reaches its maximal point, and just so you know all our anxiety in society is just a projection of the most basic anxiety of nobility, which is supported by the images of the 'outside' which is projected on the screens of today and processed by the corrupted reason and which is countered by more subtle nobility of the nomads of today. These are the secrets of storage and I will tell you more some other day when I have more storage in my heart. For now I'm being ravished and raptured by some UFO beam endlessly hexing me, quirking me up and tweaking me out.