Let the knife turn

As a rotting corpse thrown into a town well may my remains pollute them. Those who seek not a healthy mind of unique developed ideas huddle up for warmth against the cold canvas of everyday exchanges. They understand the means of social interaction and mundane communication and they thrive in this accepted form of handed down ideals.

Social hierarchies in the work place, in a culture or families have complicit roles that they were given. Then there is the loner, who no-one gave a damn about ever. He walks diligently passed the on-looking social circle everyday without notice, once in a while a few wonder why he will never dress for warmth. He looks terribly cold. He does this because the compounded days and nights of heavy thoughts lead him toward self knowledge, when he reaches gnosis he shivers inside. Sometimes he even shivers upon taking on the thoughts communicated orally from another, open and receptive he is.

Then comes the day where disinterest and ignorance towards this boy turns into discomfort and arrogance toward a man. They sense something has changed and they either reject him completely or hold him to a higher standard. Is he a bitch, or is he worthy? Hes left them so many times without a goodbye and hurt those sensitive ones, maybe he should just leave forever. Mysterious, a thoughtful passion emanates from this man. This is attractive to many, though there are also resentful and jealous individuals. An enigma surrounds this person, demonized by some.

Where did he go? internally, he lives the day the same. Thought stricken, he seeks to even out and formulate his collective consciousness. He writes down the initial plan to save for later when he is wiser, putting it in a bottle to save for later. He places these all in his boat he rides everyday. One day however, all of his writings are washed ashore and his thoughts are picked up by others. The boat washes ashore too, something must have pushed him to ride faster and harder. He was missing for days, somehow bottles kept coming with his thoughts and plans. They thought he must be stranded somewhere and eventually must ask for help, until one day a message was received that said “I’ll kill you.”

I say to you, break your reflections and constraints, fall into the stream of collective consciousness. If you feel lonely you will suddenly find your thoughts no-one would ever hear you out on are transmitted the second you have them. Show face and stand up to your critics. Use the Black Sun to do so.

Lately people have been wanting a piece of me really bad, since I plowed through the hindering terrain of the collective conscious. My gut instinct knows that others are finding out what lies behind this consensual facade. Though I also share warning signs of an identity disorder. Such as the ability to transmit thoughts or to control another’s mind. Although this is frustrating, there are moments that are satisfactory. For instance the other night at a party, many people were talking about me the one that truly stood out though is when a man was talking to his friends and looking at me he said “He needs to cross the abyss”

Though it burdens my heart to find someone to share my intimate thoughts with, this is one way to deal with isolated consciousness.


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