Ironically enough the south coast is actually quite near, but that is not the point tonight. Tonight, the music is clear, the voices are jumbled and muffled, and the desire is great. The air is, unfortunately, not stale, and the beer is, pleasantly and unfortunately, fresh and even delicious at times. The more acceptable note is that the tunes are easy going and well received.
I wonder if there is space enough. Is there?
Death. The end; some would say. The beginning; others might argue. A continuation of the same of that which is; another perception held by some, maybe. It is not blatantly evident that life is chosen, but rather, it is seemingly experienced that life is bestowed upon the living just as death is granted to all the same. So, we did not necessarily choose to live and thus we will die, which is something that much effort, energy, and resources are spent in a frivolous attempt to thwart.
Anyways – death. It will be experienced and there is nothing that can be done to curve its arrival.
Is corruption corruption when it is unknown to the host and seemingly woven into the fabric of the hosts ideals? When it’s a sincere action, part of the fabric of thought, the foundation and very inner-workings of an organization – a nation even – is it still corruption?
Worse even. As life manifests, so does death – the absence of life, antimatter if you will. It’s ultimate deception, whose innate action is devastation to all organic matter through the dissemination of non-organic matter.
“I have told you before that it is no secret the secrets of this organization. We will prosper on the backs of the masses; we will rule by the power of the weak.”
John was such a shit head when he opened his mouth. “Why not explain to me how you will stay on top again, John?”
“Well, you see,” John explained, “we only need to feed the bulls their own shit, and, as Orobouros, they will find it sickeningly irresistible, devouring themselves, and thus they will do the work for us. Just look, it is already in cycle. They eat to satisfy their gut, only to wreck it and become dependent – enslaved, broken, beaten; and while they fall to the floor we gladly take another step up on their back and peer out a bit farther in order to extend our grasp over the filth that crawl this planet.”
He’s an asshole. Prick. “But the bottom will rot, as everything does in our time, and when it gives way there will exist for all who have scavenged to the top no safe passage to the ground. Your innards will spread across the landscape below, John, revealing your true nature – animal.”
And the revelation of the real death that is thriving within, those cancerous vessels, the life-sucking tumor draining the energy from all that draws near – and it draws all near at some point. It will come. Mais ou menos dez anos, and we will see at least the beginning of the great reveal.