Walt Whitman wouldn’t deal with these people. I want to be egalitarian but it’s too hard when humans are hard to come by, proxy by proxy pass by, physical representations of digital images all around. How can you treat culturally subjugated drones with dignity? Stalin was justified in deleting millions of Facebook profiles. Plutocracy is everywhere. Everyone is Minos at the gates of hell judging what they can from what they cannot tell. Ernest Hemingway is now a tortured tree. The devil is beating his wife for burning up the rice. The old lady gave me the same gift as Prometheus and she suffers the same fate. As do we. Walt lived with his mother in Camden. His only friend was a butterfly.
Howard Unruh lived with his mother in Camden. His only friend was a Luger.
They were both homosexuals. Time is relative.
The blackness that came before is still here. How can I possibly justify anything? Anyone else is off judging and being judged. We must create a being in order to make enforcement of anything seem decent. We must use pronouns and vague generalities in order to express ourselves. We must invent noises in order to communicate. Worthlessness envelopes the world, and all we can do is stand by and watch ourselves pretend to do something. I’ll enjoy the aesthetics for the time being- right now, which is always simultaneously happening. At once it must remain stagnant immediately. Reaction is a mainstay.
“Do not act.”
“Respond to others.”
“Act it out in yourself.”
“Do not believe any words written by anything.”
Soak them deep inside. Wallow in words.
“Do not believe anything. Ever.”
Screaming at one another for what might as well be no reason- it’s healthy for you. This is humanity. This is the almanac of every being. Seemingly meaningful contradictions writhing on a page. Understand nothing.