I published some of my writings, and -as I expected- the shit storm hit. The mourning of the soulless. I am feeling fresher and realer than ever, you poor souls. I just took all that energy that you are throwing at me and woops transform it into speaking the words of god. Yeah, god. My goddess. That is something you devil worshipper out there would not know about. No, YOU are chaining yourself to alcohol, things, and food that is made to be full of chemicals and which streams in floods down to the very fundament of your existence on this planet. And there is -of course- your precious slave work, you admire so much. But the lyra has played too loud and for too long for all of you to get confused in their quests. Until you deny and hate your quest. Or simply put in words you understand: hate yourself. Don’t you find yourself thinking sometimes? Aren’t you struck by contradictions that occur to you, when the tiny sparks of truth glitches through your shell? Yeah, my brother, it got you. It got you all. All of you, that fake-care so much. You don’t care. Stop pretending. You are just petting yourself in the face of the devil. I understand, the devil gives you energy. That is what he does. He takes your little heart piece by piece and everytime you annihilate another lie, you become the lie, until you do not know yourself anymore. Be honest to yourself, do you know yourself? Who you are? What the reason of your existence may be? No questions anymore, no? How sad is that to hear. You should know better. But you do not want to know better. You do not care. You are comfortable just where you are and where they want you to be. What a shameful privilege you carry. It is roaring from the Ghettos for you to listen, but you carry on with your pint and fake-happiness. You are too lazy to get your ass up and your shit together, to hold on and go after these questions that darn you, like a thorne in your eye. You are asking yourself, is this really it? But you do not care, because the truth hurts. You are not willing to go to your dark side and admit it. You are not willing to pick up your cross. It will not leave, if you don’t admit, repent and commit to the law which are universal. There is truth, but you prefer to feed yourself with fear and it will drag you down, brothers and sisters. Your mother earth screams in pain for you to listen, but you sit there and praising your own gods you made yourself. Gods of material and fear. The first commandment you are not willing to obey. And then I ask myself, don’t you believe in love? Have you given up, without even trying it? Do you smile at people sometimes? I don’t believe so. Your hate is so deep for all of them. Them. Them. Them. Not you, of course. No, you are flawless. You have figured it all out, while your alter ego taps your shoulder and praises your braveness. How come you are still looking for the “one”?Should you not have it already? Have you not earned it already; you, that shine so bright in the light of courage and superiority? You, that is smart above average? That baths itself in the comforting waves of the masses that follow you? You love those likes, don’t you? Another tab. Good boy. In the end, you hate yourself most and you know it. For me, and my fellows, it is just terrifying to see the extent of your alien ownership.
And so the earth kept burning and the people mourning in the hell they created themselves out of ignorance and self righteousness.