Passing time

 The world is bigger than America. The privilege that is associated with the thinking that what befalls America dictates the energy of the world. We want so much to be large when in reality we are small. To deal with the smallness and not make choices from the longing that comes with wanting to be big. Do we want desperately to matter in a human story that makes us feel tiny? I am not sure but I get that daily we move with certainty around the idea that the things we do matter. I am not sure they do. It seems that our existence is simply about passing time. The question is our we passing the time in a way that makes sense to us. 

macro/micro

The macro vs the micro. The private vs the public. How the lines blur between our imagination and lived experience. The search for utopia seems integral to the dreaming spirit. The hope that at some point it will all feel ok. That there will seemingly be a point to a daily routine that seems structurally meaningless in hollow. This is not to say that they're not good things. No, there are always good things. It just that good things sometimes don't erase larger feelings of a existence devoid of meaning in a macro level sense. Will we come to our senses and challenge the way we construct our world?

False Narratives

 So many narratives around division in the country. The division comes from those who want to protect whiteness and the way it has been entrenched into our systems. This is the dividing line is still the problem and it cannot exist as the line anymore

Resist

How do we resist? How do we not grow fatigued at the thought of resistance? Truth be told there are no fairytales or utopian end games. Where are born into a world that seems to be in conflict. The question is what side of the conflict will we be on? The conflict is waging and the days our moving towards an end point. What will I do before the end? 

fucked

Shit is fucked.. There does not need to be poetic language to draw a clearer picture. Shit is fucked and crumbling. Now, what does one do in the midst of that which is crumbling? Some, we move to control the micro and almost keep at the bay the larger nightmare that threatens to make it all seem so futile? I exist in the midst of futility. Constantly, questioning the meaning behind the meaningless activities that fuel our days. It hard to feel that this whole thing is not simply one big lie.

projections

The lost of the ability to distract. That why we hope to consume because to consume is to devour whole the void that screams at us in solitude. So, now we left in the midst of trash circumstances praying to deities to take pity on wandering souls. Yeah, we have always projected onto superheroes our true feelings about the powerlessness that is so fundamental to this experience.

grim

Like the world is really ending. Anxiety is real. We think it will return to normal but normalcy is just the ability to consume. What we have consumed is the lie that normalcy will return. No we have exited to the off ramp of dystopia. As nightmares make their mark on the daydreams that brought hope. No, hope is dead left in a the shallow grave. The future is grim.

fuck the media

The media is simply the tool of corporate elite. We have a massive campaign of misinformation. We are never going to have anything radical in reference to reforms for the masses will because the elites would rather let any form of revolution occur other than a progressive movement. We are fucked and it gives me an anxiety headache when I think about how unlikely it is for the change that is needed to ever be seen

exposed

The pandemic exposed how unprepared we are for the end. As death is constantly following us as we move through the days. The government is broken by design and the leaders have long sense jumped the shark. We are now in the shark infested waters of despair. No one is coming to save us and the movie does not end well. There will be screaming at the oncoming onslaught of a breakdown of the consumeristic privilege that isolates us from the fact that this shit is going down. We are on the titanic shuffling chairs while the ship is going down. We are in the midst of going down into the lake of alienation. There is no life jackets for a life on this planet. The tipping point will eventually tip us all over.