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My right hand is very good at it








You ask people

They say it's in between the sheets.

Real love is dead. We murdered it through death camps called elementary schools.
My leg hurts

The jaws of this inhumane trap engulf my lower shin

I have the tool to disarm it and free myself

But I muttle in my adolescent egocentric pain

Caught within monotonous routine and self interest I rot like my peers

I've sunk to a level of self loathing, that I enjoy pulling myself down

I

Am

Disgusting.

I

Need

Help.

I cry for things I can give myself but alas I withhold it to feel sorry for myself

Me and my fellow youth

Equally as useful, equally as useless

Although I am free of the crowd I am still blinded by my adolescence

Purpose

Interest

Intellect

Great-fullness

Peacefulness

Gen­erosity

Love

PURPOSE

all I've know is I am here to be a vessel for knowledge and indoctrination

I am here to have an opinion I voice, but does not matter.

I do not matter.

This function is welded to me

However...

The voice of destiny reasons with me again and I hear:

Seek what's within

Garrot it.

Place yourself into the walls of meaning and the murals upon't

Serve others in selflessness. Share with others in selflessness. Learn from others in selflessness. Teach others in selflessness.

Your a **** in the samsara. Do your duty within its game.

Gain higher consciousness so you can share the path to it. Become a giver, not a taker.

Interest

Intellect

Great-fullness

Peacefulness

Genero­sity

Love

Six lessons left, define yourself within them. Or perish within your self indulgent pitiful hole.
Got a Tool lyric in there for those who like Tool

Anyway...

This is the firt lesson of my ascension

After more than some self reflection I thought I was ready to post a kind of collection of what I've found so far. Obviously I haven't reached ascension yet. So it's kind of unfit to call this collection ascension. It's more of some lessons I've learned in self reflection and my path to ascension I want to pursue throughout my life. Hope you take something away from this or be influence to write poetry yourself. Maybe do some of your own self reflection I don't know. Thanks for reading if you got this far. Sorry I am a quite person IRL so everything I vent here is pretty long.
Clearing our eyes of residue left from the lies we perceived as reality. We must move forward.

Internally destroyed.

Nothing of fact was real.
I feel betrayed and you should too.

The first breath free of the grasp of lies

Is utterly pure.

We must enjoy this for a brief moment.

Destiny awaits.

Reaching out to us. We all hear it's beckoning in a different form.

What I here is this:

You exhaust yourself on the past

Pathetic

It's inconceivable to think you can last

Empty of purpose and full of old hatred

Value you hold, is very little

Change

Console, and become a tittle

A part of some collective release

Wander into the depths of your caverns

In search of peace

Unearth all you find there

For the world to have a Saturn

May they follow without tear

Or we perish

No set leader

Just all a merish

Reconcile yourself into selflessness

Be fearful of what you do not know

But brave in the endeavor of finding it.

Develop a thirst for learning that is unquenchable

Be ravenous for service to others

Purpose

Interest

Intellect

Great-fullness

Peacefulnes­s

Generosity

Love

Now we're free

There are Seven lessons to achieve.
Induced fixation has engulfed us

Fixation of indoctrinated normality,
and the pursuit of said specification.

Who's, characteristics are repugnant to individuality.

We all believe we are different, but we fallow the same shepherd who has snowed us with such lies.

The hypocrisy of, "average is unique", has been whittled into our minds. We bear this scar for the rest of our lives.

To reject the ideology would be to condemn yourself to purgatory. All previous beliefs and known fact would vanish, you would be alone, adrift in nothingness and ultimate confusion.

However, our distraction caused by our fixation on subjective "normality" has blinded us. We find that we are in a crowd, and are unable to see above the billions of heads.

One thing we can see, is a ginormous stage. From which our indoctrination calls its origin.

The microphone upon the origin blocks self reflection and critical thinking through pushing us toward endless **** for their normality.

A normality of political agenda, social agenda, and cultural agenda all forced upon us through "authority".

Evil is one who questions any teachings that originate from the stage. Suppressed is their voice.

Discourse is hate speech.

But we are unique. But we are also normal because we are unique.

Wait

What a paradox

That's just what we are taught

Now that We've questioned our restraints of self exploration and personal growth. We can begin the beginning.

Free of our chains. What is our purpose now?
Who was the first “Original”?
The shepard before the Sheep.
What did the sheep do before the Methodical?

Their following a facade of an imbecile, it’s pathological.
But without it, they would weep.
Who was the first “Original”?

Why can’t they see the fictional?
They pray the lord, their soul to keep
What did the Sheep do before the Methodical?

Has it always been traditional?
does it help them sleep?
Who was the first “Original”?

It is a joke to see this as Logical
We’ve been snowed by those in the Keep
What did the sheep do before the Methodical?

Why can’t we find Traditional
We sit in a crowd where we praise what they steep
Who was the first “Original?
What did the sheep do before the Methodical?
My arms are open
Like my mind

My love is receiving
Like my heart is empty

I am as critical
As I am in search of a pinnacle

Yet I do not chase my quarry

I seem to think she will just fall unto my midst

How lazy
How repugnant
How laughable

Naive

I preach of self reflection

But caught between two mirrors of my own hypocrisy

My vileness reflects back to me.

Blinded by my selfish **** for connection with one not of my disposition

I miss the blinding double standard

I continue to lie.

To spread pseudo-self exploration

Pseudo-self understanding

So my arms may be as open as I say my mind is

And my love may be as receiving as  my heart is empty

But my soul

My soul is as yellow
As my teeth.
They profit on your silence, and foster insanity
To reef your identity, and fade you to normality

Control is an abortion of instinctual fundamentality
They blind us with a bleach of hypocrisy to fade us to their normality

Gather once in number, to support the dismantling
Fate of compassionate and empathetic rationality, is threatened by a lie of social justice in pronouns and prejudice

This is an infection of our political mentality,
to allow other views to be heard only if they align within sheepish bounds of radicality

Neo-**** Ideology. What insanity
Can’t let it fester, or our dignity will be the fatality

Disgusting to muzzle those who believe differently
As long as it’s not hate, preach what you practice
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