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Ex Lives

When I am judged, will they be harsh on my punishment?
For having the Gnosis, for knowing between good and evil;
Yet still committing acts of mindlessness in pursuance of sensation.
When my life is nullified, will they take into account the pains of imprisonment?
Will I ever forgive myself?
The enduring of man, separated from his half, cast into aimless mortality.
Do I do these things to blend in, like a Chameleon on my Path of Many Colors.
Or is that just my excuse to remain here?
Are my past lives so horrid of things, and is that part of me vicarious?
In pursuance of the questions, We stumble and weep. IMG_2191

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Saturated Souls Seldomly Settle

Look at them there.

Pointing, charting, analyzing unto death.

Everyone’s trying to sell you something.

Every month we owe money to someone we don’t know.

Consuming, breeding, tantalizing unto death.

Distractions are ample. Be it games for the people or new shopping malls;

Our gaze is ambiguous and fixed this way and that.

Humanity is the sickness of the Earth.

You there, what is your purpose, I beckon.

The fat man behind the counter is made to service the company and the customers.

Somehow he is okay with his baseness.

Is it ignorance? Lack of understanding?

No, he is merely comfortable in his conformity.

He makes ends meet, all the food is affordable, and within proximity.

It could be worse, he thinks to himself as he imagines being homeless-

or having been born in a less developed impoverished nation.

Yet he never imagines how much better it could be.

We could be better.