symbioidlj | (no subject)

These humans.
What strange creatures.
They stare at little glowing boxes,
some during the day.
And others at night.

And they are like agents of information,
who take light and sound,
and process it around
for others to see what they think,
and they share it and they share it and they share it and share.

Strange indeed.
What is their life, but looking at images.
Bowing to idols.

Manas mana money.

Mind generates power of money. Through the illusionary Maya of belief in some sort of virtual sensibility, propagated by a feeding of desire to all the pig sucklings at the trough of the TV-God, who watches it all by flipping his channels, and frequencies and vibrating in all different ways to see all different things. And the TV-God, has a holy book called the TV-Guide.

Holy holy holy art thou Guide, the Telelogos, your charts and systems give order to the world.

Bow before me, as I beknight you with the glowing halo, my mighty aura of blessedness. Consumer-child, you are my love, please, feed at my teat, suck me dry.

Destroy me, your mother, you cancer fucking baby.
Mankind, lost you are, your path destroyed, systematically inventing every new possible way to off yourself, just tempting fate.

Walking the razors edge till the very end.

And for what?