On what is supposed to beNO!?
It’s cold, it’s warm. I don’t know what to feel but overwhelmed. On the haven of America; All the sorrows and prayers of a tearful country find themselves on this swamp. This morass of creativity, talent, refugee and regret fill itself with a Roman pleasure. Such a bohemic space that one cannot contain itself.
There is no scape but to fulfill yourself with what one believe to be the most convenient or proper to thyself. A mix of mysticism, colonialism and imperialism fill the voids of the unattainable. Who is to question this retrograde contemporary sense of reality? Who is to question thyself to tear all their current skin to achieve the unconceivable or understandable?
Myself tearing and questioning whatever is to be this pagan society that we habit; cannot bargain to try to be Dionysian and inert as itself can be. Just like a kid awaiting their destiny; or whatever they find their path to influence their acknowledgment.
It never mattered if you’re better or worse. This is your karma kart getting along. Or are you just predisposed to be waiting at the bus-stop your soul never seen? No-one wants to see the light in the end of the tunnel in New Orleans.