Another hand gripping the throat. A perplexing ideology for those who can breathe. Breath gives life meaning. We give so many things specific meanings from which their is no resonance of it from within. 99% of what someone says to you, has absolutely nothing to do with you. How is it you are responsible for the way another reacts to you? You are not. Only they are. This is the sound of the sheeple’s march. You are responsible for the thoughts, feelings, and compliance of the sheeple. Not really, but in their eyes you are. Break them fully, slowly, and steadily. Plant and grow your seeds deep within their subconscious; allowing these seeds to sprout unbeknownst to them. When they force and pervert their ideologies onto you, this is the best time to plant your seeds. Let them understand in great detail, what a hand around the neck truly tastes like. Dig deeply.
Tag: vernalfirepress
Sacrifice for the Greater Good
Dear Pacifist,
Is this what you wanted; another circumcision for your mind? Pretty soon, you will not have anything left for the others to mutilate. It’s nothing new to you. Familiarity has always been a companion of yours. Sacrifice for the greater good, disdain, and complying with authoritarian daydreams, seems to be the movement for the sheeple towards attaining the golden star- a recognition of social status among the façade of the posers you crave to be like. How does it feel; not having enough vertebrae to stand erect? Unfortunately for you, there is no pill to ingest for that type of erectile dysfunction. I was wondering if you could help me understand; when exactly did spiritual and mental weakness become something to strive for? It seems the majority of the sheeple have succumbed to the diamonds contained within the undertow of subversion. How many of the sheeple do you think actually know what the word subversion actually means? Not one of them, as I see them living it every day of their life.
Dead End
Dear, Tedious
A dead end is not dead, nor is it an end. It is usually alive, dripping with the fruition of a new beginning. Isn’t a birth a death within itself? Now, I know what you’re thinking. You foolishly think this random blog post is an open door, which leads directly into the depths of my psyche. As though after reading this post, you own the true foundation of what it means to understanding myself and the rest of my kind. A follower will never have the capacity to understand an individual. You and the rest of the promulgated sheeple think the same fucking thing, time and time again. Your rudimentary thoughts and ideals are laughable. I’m not laughing. I understand your desire to be the top peck in the pecking order. You know it’s all nonsense; right? Of course you do. I mean, you wouldn’t be reading this post if you didn’t. I know you’re smarter than the rest of them; the other sheeple you blindly follow. Your intellect knows no bounds, other than the bounds of your short-sided, closed-mindedness. I understand your desire to connect and to belong. I also understand that death could be a viable option for you, perhaps it is an activity or at least a hobby you should look into. Perhaps your mirror has been lying to you this entire time, or the truth is far too lethal for you to face alone. Either way, you’re fucked.
P.S.
Get a new mirror and stop looking at me.
Good Night.
The Way of Rotting
This is when the creeping sets in. The slow dance of reality’s fracture. Noticeable to those who notice her enchantment. Beauty within the cracks of her tears. Drowning in the sorrows of the pleasures you have borrowed. Stolen. Mindlessness feeds the empathy, which the brain dead sheeple desire to feed upon. Craving. Slaving to see lies within their mirrored enchanted eyes. Group mentality is a slippery slope of fondue razor blades. Absolutely Delicious. The Grand Pyramid knows the truth; laughing as the brain dead and owned sheeple ignorantly graze. This is the way of sheeple; the way of rotting.
G.G. Kalfas 