Why can life be so fucking hard?
Is it actually?
Only when you desire something from it.
Profound shit said left and right
But Who Cares?
The tree grows steadily
Keeping a simple pace
One sunset per day
There is no pressure for the Tree
Where then does this pressure come from?
The Mother of Chaos.
The Father of Order.
Right at the bind between these two worlds
The curves meet,
At the macro and the microverse.
Here walks the man.
No manual or word to guide
Only eyes and two hands at his side
And then there’s the pain
The pain of being aware.
The struggle to fix and repair.
The guilt of sounding aloof.
The pleasure of finding Truth.
Sleep well Dear Lord
Because you’re experiencing the same accord
I don’t exist
You don’t exist
The Sun doesn’t exist
Not in the way our Ego learned it
Not in the way our future hoped for it.
Epic growth, No Equality
Regime, Control, Democracy
The crushing force of life itself.
Please make Chaos go away.