Yes, indeed that is what it must all come down to. The battle of our spectacularly mediocre existence and work. The constant struggle between good and evil. Those who realise this see what it is that the universe has been wishpering to us from the very beginning that it is all we must do. It is the very force that drives it all. Like the oxygen into our lungs that gets released inot the blood stream, totally nessery for our movement and survival. But alas it has been faded. In the now in which we live it ha been tainted by scewd by a few in power, They rob us of what it is to be GOOD AND TURN US INTO parasites who must consume and own. This is evil and has cause only death and pain to the human race. The population of which so vast as if we are mini planets. We all revolve around something. We all have a meaning, a purpose, a sun which warms us and keeps of alive. Yet we all have a moon that brings darkness and beauty heart breakingly simotainously. Our loves and friends our neighbouring planets, part of our solar system. Everything, every aspect of the universe must order itself into these formations. It is law. The skeliton, the psyisics behind why such things must be leak out into everyones life everyday without a single exception. The rule is simple. Life our experience is the universe. Beautiful yet dangerously chaotic. Sallowly disorganised but like each drop of water in a river it has a path which it must flow down dispite the rapids. Those who can make the connections have only one hope to be free. That is to see things in their essence. To value all life no matter how big or small as life in a vast universe is a perious maricle and we must start by honering our own. Then understandly reaching our hands out to others.
Be good.

"Science will save us" was the early diet off all education. Once the child could look around and gather some smatterings of bearings.
Armed with a microscope and the absorption of former minds work, they set off to conquer the academic world.
Their buildings glittering with the unspoken ideals of their field, a jump above and the zoning in a small nature of the universe, playing with God's laws, staring him in the eye.
And we sit back in our leaky, sun-setted windows buildings, desiring the human condition, exchanging empathies of existence and lamenting the archaic actions of ancient revising their records:
"Day 51: with these crazy apes"
The dreams, the beard strokes, the pondering lost who fear for our lives. As we watch through our sunset windows the dawn of the new scientific man. A world without our thought

He is a fine painting
The delicate hand of Nordic genetics
painted on a symmetrical face
His face, although youthful, gives away a spiritual antiquity
His mind is filled with sand carrying gales
from the great dunes of knowledge facing the ever-wise ocean eternally. churning up new grains of sand from her deep bed

The windy world of well-stoked book shelves pass through his mind and turn into lukewarm water for those with thirst to drink

He zips through the world on a flying fox
The line tightly and stably fixed to an inbound destination
Draining girls like cigarettes, each one long and slender providing a fix and  moment of satisfaction
His heart radiates to his hands and he uses them as noble puppets, even missing two digits

He crusades into the world with a sword of passion and a shield of God's fortune
Tightening up the loose screws in the worlds clock
To keep it ticking for everyone at gaze at

He fights, he wins, he will be remembered long after his atoms cut themselves into dust

He receives a passionate kiss from nature filling his soul with passion

Until he finds his white bowl, table cloth, soup with a dessert-spoon-keychain

It's weird how he intrigues me
his soul seeming to be the embodiment
of all that blows through the windy corridors of my mind.
He embarks on steep conversations ascending a hill of knowledge,
each book, film, album, poem a step ahead of me.
Many steps ahead of me.

As I sit. In my little pool of melancholy. Watching the undulating water as each drop of despair, sadness or lamentations contribute to the waters.

In his presence I feel lost
yet brilliantly terrified.
Perhaps it comes from the knowledge that he would never love me.
Or perhaps the puzzelment, why me?
Why would he even want to spend his precious time with me

As he climbs the hills of conversation
Yelling down heroes, countries, capitals that he has learnt by heart, by name, by creed.
That he has revelled in for all these by-gone years.

I feel myself shrinking back into the corridors of my mind.
Closing the doors.
Staring at myself in the mirror.
What? Who am I?

And here he is.

Sharing his carefully curated version of reality with me. Pulling the stars down from the sky to bejewel his crown of thoughts.

And I. I. I go back into the sadness that knows me so well.
My own coal grey cloud to crown my head.
My sleepy, windy head.

I cannot justify a reason to breathe as I am made from nothing more than everyone else.
Why me, why must I have caught this bug that is so toxic and consuming.
I am nothing more than just a pile of bones that can move on their own self-accord
Uneducated and bleating like the rest to the marching sheep in society shepherded by the few intelligent who manipulate them into profit and statistics to cultivate capital gain from.
I want to badly to me independent yet I am so needy, in a sickening common sort of feminine way. People will never like you because you aren't chill, because not caring about anything has become the pinnacle of what it means to be "cool".
As loserish as I am I will continue to stagger stuck and bound by my own mind, because I cannot live for myself.
I wish I would just die because I am just a plague to everyone else and the whole world.
The call it depression, at least I want to **** myself less than what I used to
I give up
I wanna die
Please someone help me
I am not a sweet girl
I am evil and sad filled with demons and mold
I think I might die soon,
That would be better
Because then people could just get on with things

God...
Who are you?
I want to see your face
Feel your love, your touch,
Your warmth, your grace.
I want to know you
But I cannot understand
Why things are
What of humanity you demand.
I love others
If I couldn't I tried.
Like your Son
He was with us for a breath
We killed Him, He died, then He left.
He left to be by your side,
Where all the saints and Angels
reside.
Or say they say.
And we will join you,
So long as we pray.
But father I do not even know your name!
Allah, Lord, Yahweh?
Father, Mother!
Unknown perhaps another?
A spirit of many an alias
Each religion with such disparity
Sharing an unearthly similarity
A belief
Seeking relief from the cruel sting of death
Or to praise you with their last breath
What are you?
You are the wind
The sun the rain.
My love, my laughter but overall my pain.
Would you really send me there?!
I? A fatherless-child
Down into the fire
Where the flames are wild.
Some say you judge by heart
Others say by deed.
This remains dependent
On the creed, they were steered to
If which they adhered to
If not would they fall into the fire
For succumbing to their human desire?
Who are you?
I want to be by your side and feel your embrace.
But I can't
I don't see your face.
I would die screaming your name!
For a slight hope
To see you again
My parent, my creator
Who lovingly assembled us in a blue spherical incubator.

She runs in her own mind-circles
So light on her feet she doesn't leave impressions on the sand
At every moment spewing up
philosophical musings of the shallow thinker

Paper and ink shall be my destiny for the following years
The world will stop and converse with me through once written and retyped word.

No fresh breeze of unknown zeal with encourage my soul
No foreign sun or forrest to stroke my spirit

Paper and ink
Paper and ink

Why and where did you go?
You left so quickly with the breath of summer,
Like water from my own glass,
Evaporated into the clouds
To rain down once more
Elsewhere.
Regrettably added to my long list of wasted affections.
The midnight food runs,
The morning spent half-slumbering in each other’s’ arms.
Frivolous, cheap and broken.
You.
A riddle so complex
Simply beyond my comprehension.
So agonisingly pertinent.
Cutting, stinging in the crevasses of what I allowed myself to feel for you.
Gone.
Only a faded photograph in my memory remaining,
Water stained and torn.
By tears and confusion.

"I'm not sure I've ever been in love. I've had girlfriends
but I think I loved them as a friend" - M.

"Well being in love is terrifying. You lose all control over your emotions.
basically, you have no chill
'But it's beautiful. It's like everything turns from discord into a harmonious crescendo" -Me

"Well I've never had that" -M

"I have. And once was enough" -Me