stigmas and selfie sticks

arms stiff and stuck in rigid positions, extended outward and blindly reaching into uncharted places as if the space in front of you is dark. unabated narcissism sparked by the collective trauma of a generation stripped of its direction, flailing about and failing to recount partitioned pieces of the recently-deceased egos. falling into the void and avoiding a malevolent deity, imperfect and impersonal, replacing it with ripped slips of reprocessed green from trees who's value is retrieved from the gleaming ether, images seen with either one eye keen or the face of a man famous for flying a kite with a filed key. cloud static and thunder conducting a symphony of lightning and sound, manifesting itself in innumerable screams hidden behind the screens projecting scenes of webpages and timelines on social media where pages refresh at a rate of 60 hz, that's 60 cycles per second, 60 seconds per minute, 60 minutes per hour. 216,000 pleas for validation every time one of the hands on the clock moves a meager 30 degrees.

drifting

is there a god in me? is there a god in she? a god in we?
i mean, that's not to say they are mutually exclusive
obtuse dreams keep me alive whenever i feel like i've died in waking life
radiation eradicating my brain when my old phone is sandwiched between my face and the pillow
cold side gets flipped over every so often
awestruck by the lights strung together when the nights become longer than the days
draped like a thin but stable cable on a suspension bridge
expending energy just to render my consciousness in the aether
either keep breathing or leave here
veer away from the leaves falling during autumn and the feet drumming drudgingly to meek workspaces
i find cadence in the thundering rain hitting pavement on days after a six month delay
plundering through the haze until the silky clouds lay fixed on the above plane
plainly flying and searching for some kind of meaning down below

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2Wn6LvZITTg

Shortcut to Hell

Step 1: Realize that, despite being taught that everyone is equal and not to discriminate based on appearances, the people who look like you have been systematically getting the short end of the stick for who knows how long. (Don't confuse this for perceived moral superiority -- instead, see it as implementing a paradigm you believe allows maximum freedom to a maximum number of people, who are, in fact, people.)


Step 2: Try to help the others who've woken up make those who are still sedated understand that they are still sedated, and attempt to help them see why this leaves them vulnerable to be preyed upon. (Assume, hypothetically, there are 100 people living, but only 1 of them controls 90% of available resources. Which is more important: economic freedom, or the survival of each person?)


Step 3: Fail because many of those who are living in the matrix do not wish to be awoken from their dopamine-fueled slumber. (Can crack addicts come to the realization that they need to quit on their own, or are they destined to overdose one day unless someone else intervenes?)


Step 4: Stand back and watch helplessly as a prolonged mass genocide occurs. (How many of you have heard of William Lynch and his speech on how to control slaves?)