I would like to be immersed in a confined nothingness - where the darkness would be total and the blackness would give me the impression of immediacy with the cosmos. I would like to rest there and reflect on our excited world. And how small it is.
And how big everything else is – everything beyond us.
To compare.
Our buildings rise like anthills.
With x-ray vision we should see the millions, in our careful structures, busily toiling at the task of living.
We write meticulously, scrawling our impressions to each other across billboards and water bottles, across novels and chocolate bars. We are obsessed with communication, but we are so trivial.
Who are we?
Is that new computer coming at the price of our collective soul?
9 billion dollars to smash particles in the Large Hadron Collider; perhaps we can find God this way – but is that the proof we need? If we find God, will we recognize him or her or it?
Who are we?
We are becoming a product of consumerist ideals and an accelerating society with a faulty break. Repeat: we are becoming a product.
Reveling in the media culture we open our mind and emotions, where sponsors whisper into our ears and we are shaped like newborns, unaware and delirious in the bright lights.
Defined by nonconsensual influence - intellectual rape.
“I love you” is not born in a romantic comedy.
Take a look at yourself. What do you see?
A mirror only shows opinion.
Reality is a matter of heart and soul, not eyes.
When did we become so obsessive?
Analyzing and analyzing and analyzing until our eyes are red but our dreams are tired and listless.
Newton believed that for every action there was an equal and opposite reaction.
In a world made of one fundamental energy, belief must certainly create the fact –
A direct reflection of passion.
Your reality is not a physical manifestation. But it is not a sand castle either.
You turn the tide.
You choose.
So who are you?
Are you a dreamer?
Not sleeping.
Awake and far-away in a million places, while sitting in the same seat.
Flights of fancy; engrossing conscious desires to be part of something with the same wavelength as your beating heart.
In the deepest depths of the ocean there exist creatures that create beautiful patterns.
They have no eyes.
They must listen; tuning to the collective beauty of the universe, accessible to all things.
We live on the land, and with all the cameras we will never see as they do.
Fact is as subjective as our existential dilemma of being, but we drown ourselves in encyclopedias until the sun goes out.
Eyes open, eyes closed.
What a curious species.
Should giants as massive as our burning sun come to see our tiny deluded self-importance, they would only see us rushing, 6 billion coffees, 6 billion newspapers, in 6 billion pairs of little hands. All the same to them, I assure you.
“Get over yourself.”
The privilege of life is beyond any lottery we have ever known.
From local, to ontological, to cosmological.
And so far from anything “logical” we’ve constructed thus far.
So sun burn sunburn into our skin until we wake up and the sunshine is real and we are too.
Night time life line put us deep into an eternal chance to listen,
And maybe one moment soon we will wake up with a full heart
and a floating soul.
“Hello, Tomorrow”, I hope you will come when you are ready.
Not when we pull you in.
Not when we’re not ready.
But when you are.
When we’re ready for ourselves.
This is how mirrors will be mirrors, and dreams will be dreams,
And one fundamental energy
Will be bigger than that commercial,
Or this burger,
Or that oil reserve,
Or this next mircochip.
Inhale.
Exhale.
Just that.
Inhale.
Exhale.
This is how we will prepare.
