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1.) Death comes for us all eventually.

2.) Having what is commonly referred too as "Humanity" is what truely sets us apart from the animals.

3.) All people deserve a bare minimum level of respect that is granted to them by virtue of being human themselves. Nothing more, nothing less until their actions prove wanting.

4.) Those who refuse to learn, stagnate and die. Thus is modern day evolution.

5.) Anything that invalidates the free will granted to oneself is evil, not matter what other evils may be prevented.

6.) Your life does not belong to you alone. Though you are it's master, you do not have full ownership of it.

7.) Nothing should ever come before "Humanity". We are all people first, gender, creed, ideologies, race, nationality. All of it is worthless compared to "Humanity"
These are the absolute, unbreakable truths that guide me in my daily interactions and subsequent my poetry. These truths are as close as I come to religion, creed, ideology.
It’s hot as Hell, this summer day,
as I sit in the back of an open trunk,
on the side of the road,
waiting for a familiar face to remove a flat.

I listen to the birds as they chirp, and do my best to tune out the screams of cicadas
- I get it you stupid bug, it hot, just go extinct already.
I hold my breathe as each car goes by,
and breath in deeply to capture the fleeting rush of cold breeze,
filling my lungs as it washes over me.

It’s days like this I never miss,
I can’t stand the heat, it makes me sick.
But nevertheless, I found that this horrid heat,
brings a certain mind quieting bliss.
What can I say?
I’ve been in love with a girl since I met her,
But it will always be, one-sided.

That’s just life I suppose,
I can’t, nor would I change her.
For I fell in love with the her, that isn’t capable of falling for me.
The stars were not to blame
Nor the ocean between us
Or even that dreadful place
We used to call home

It was only you and me
Always a little too wrong
And maybe just a little
Too late
We were told freedom would make us artists.
We were told freedom would set us free.
But freedom made us consumers—
scrolling, streaming, drowning in plenty.

Peak content.
Peak noise.
Attention—the last currency.
And we are broke.

Then came the machine.
Infinite. Bespoke. Frictionless.
The tribe dissolved.
The story fractured.
Each of us—
a society of one.

Do not mistake this for culture.
Culture bleeds.
Culture resists.
Culture divides.
This is mimicry.
This is slop.
Outliers cribbed, stripped,
and rebranded before the ink dries.

This is the singularity.
Not awakening.
Collapse.
Not tribe.
Not ritual.
The machine as tribe.
Self-satisfaction—tribe enough.

But listen—
creativity still breathes.
Not to be seen.
Not to trend.
But to testify.
To mark the ruins.
To scratch in the stone:

A human was here.

Do you remember?
I woke up late today… 16 alarms couldn't disrupt my peace.
I now sit out, eat my breakfast and enjoy my tea. September's Breath, a gentle comfort as it rustles the tree tops.

My phone remains in its pocket, as I watch the pine tree's branches sway.
As the lowest layer of clouds in the sky rush by, and I allow my mind to float upon the sounds of chipmunk, squirrels, and birds.

I slide down in my chair, embracing the symphony, and watch the sky.
The first memory that pops in my head was how many years ago, when I broke my foot as a child. I had been playing with the dogs, and an ill timed Ottoman caught my foot with its edge.
Broke my baby toe at the knuckle, and where it connects to my foot. Never processed so much pain before, at least until whatever pain took its place.

I don't remember much from that time, but I remember watching the 1980's Transformers movie until the DVD couldn't be read anymore, as I slept on the couch.
I remember fake friends using the fact I couldn't go outside because of the snow, to l stay in and play computer games, specifically with me.

It's hard to describe faded memories, but what a truly miserable time that was…
Von Winters Sep 21
I enjoy people watching,
Seeing them go about their lives,
lives that are less mundane than mine.
No perversions or thoughts of sinful taint,
Just curiosity, to see a sight different than my own.

Maybe that curiosity is sinful,
A ******* in its own right.
A desire for something different than my own.

— The End —