12-17-2017, 12:00 AM
Literature throughout time,
Opening gateways into prophecy, intellect, and human emotion.
Desire, dreams, and desolation,
Are keys.
Keys.
Why is any of this important? It's not like we're guarding launch codes. It's not like we're a secret society responsible for the outcome of humanity. It's not like we're anything of importance. This exploration of human consciousness is just a toy to fiddle with, to put together and take apart.
Like a toaster.
Child's play.
It's been a long year. I've sat on the creaky front porch, in my aged rocking chair, meditating over the disappointment in my heart. How did the indoctrination become so poorly executed that mass extinction is at our doorstep.
We are so far lost that even launch codes would be an act of mercy upon the world. A swift ending to a tragic story.
No, it won't be fast. The darkest hours have become illuminated with rays of hope from a new dawn. I've sat and watched as the night turned into morning.
The tides have turned and few know of the untold literature, kept away from sleepy eyes.
I return to my nightly perch. Pondering over those who have launch codes and I wonder if they too get lonely. For I am no one and my heart aches for those who slumber in animated bodies.
Oh, the literature, how I love unexpected endings.
Those who have launch codes carry the weight of the world upon their shoulders. No wonder their posture is ****.
Opening gateways into prophecy, intellect, and human emotion.
Desire, dreams, and desolation,
Are keys.
Keys.
Why is any of this important? It's not like we're guarding launch codes. It's not like we're a secret society responsible for the outcome of humanity. It's not like we're anything of importance. This exploration of human consciousness is just a toy to fiddle with, to put together and take apart.
Like a toaster.
Child's play.
It's been a long year. I've sat on the creaky front porch, in my aged rocking chair, meditating over the disappointment in my heart. How did the indoctrination become so poorly executed that mass extinction is at our doorstep.
We are so far lost that even launch codes would be an act of mercy upon the world. A swift ending to a tragic story.
No, it won't be fast. The darkest hours have become illuminated with rays of hope from a new dawn. I've sat and watched as the night turned into morning.
The tides have turned and few know of the untold literature, kept away from sleepy eyes.
I return to my nightly perch. Pondering over those who have launch codes and I wonder if they too get lonely. For I am no one and my heart aches for those who slumber in animated bodies.
Oh, the literature, how I love unexpected endings.
Those who have launch codes carry the weight of the world upon their shoulders. No wonder their posture is ****.