accomplishment, delight, despair repulsion

accomplishment, delight, despair repulsion, what brings you to the table to eat. what gives you ownership and need? Desire and Fear. the twin towers of your existence, waiting for the taliban of your nightmares to take off in flights of irresistible insanity, to bring them crumbling into the endless void your standing in. you believe there is earth and air and gravity, spherical structures exploding into greater and greater levels of complexity and wonder, reaching higher than ever before to touch an unrealised reality and even in that instant, realize another and see that it goes deliciously on forever in a world expanding like mirrored walls, never ending, never revealing anymore than the one layer you reflect. the vision exceeds the truth. the matter of the most importance. the illusionary nature of the fun house that is our skin suit and our merry go quickly round that never stops. the illusion of motion but never going anywhere, the promise of a gold ring or another horse to ride, but the feet stay firmly on the whirling disk and the music cranks and the engine clanks and thuds with a sickening certainty when you feel it. the minute you see the light, the carny atmosphere is exposed and the secret is revealed. we are prisoners of our own device, to be entertained, to be enticed with false prizes and gimmicks and lies, given cheap trinkets and forced to work in the yard gang when the carnival pulls up stakes in your town, you go with it. you arent just the mark, you're the huckster and the carney too. you built the ride and now you have to keep it going and get more to ride it with you. proliferate not, lest ye be proliferated. what you cast upon the waters draws more fish to the hook.then must you eat the flesh you carry and wait ten thousand eons for another boat to sail. the water connects and separates all, the flesh is the craft of the soil to rise out of the water, the air is the dream of freedom. the sun is the truth, leaving nothing behind but dead rock, where first it bore life emancipated. the eons never end as the rage of time extends, the difference is in the perceiver, not the perceived. what life is, the manifestation of existence, is the reflection of what cannot be, the undoing of unknowable being, the action figure of truth, with arms and legs that move, but no speck of the truth exists in the form, its in the possessor of the fetish, the light within the eye of the beholder. what do you see in the mirror that is not already there. look inside at what cannot be shown, see the reflection of your own fears and desires, parading into the end of your world, where nothing awaits but the truth that doesnt exist in this world.