Risen from wombs of creation.
With each sunrise
we awaken in a dream.
Anesthetized in childhood,
accepting cult-ural frameworks
as they’re given to us.
No questions asked.
Without what or why,
acquiescence to a hive mind.
Carrying stories of our ancestors,
fragile structures of civilization
flex illusionary muscles of meaning.
Playing the cult-ural game,
upholding the paradigm
mirroring hallucinations of mind.
Freedom, fulfillment, love.
All taught to be found outside
intuitive eyes of what’s inside.
Blinded by cult-ure’s trap,
mind is warped
while hearts are closed.
Imperial automation emerges,
digging a forgotten spirit
its final shallow grave.
Tellings stories of illusion.
Caught in separation,
repeating our traumas and victimization.
A love once imagined,
can it feel as real
as pain living inside?
Escaping the cult-ural dream?
Good luck trying to run,
nowhere left to hide.
What are we fighting?
Freedom infringed,
trapped in collective delusions.
Conditioned to numbness.
Freezing in comfort
to avoid letting go.
Is comfort what you crave?
Are you avoiding
divine responsibilities of being?
Disassociating from Truth,
a false reality strategy
for artificial survival.
Most still choose what hurts
when they remember
its feelings of familiarity.
We think it’s all real.
Cult-urally avoiding danger,
a feeling of being alive.
Playing a fictitious game,
with our only goal being
a chance for ego to survive.
In hopes of conquering death,
science imperializes
the perception of a sovereign mind.
Reduced to datasets,
artificial promises to
an immortal state of highs.
No beginning or end.
Which came first,
were you born or did you die?
Confined to a Human Zoo,
domesticated to perception
in cages of our creation.
Free from the unknown,
a slave of escapism
through hedonistic pleasure.
Lost in the meaningless.
Yet, in darkness
comes a flicker of light.
Sunflowers bloom
in the lover’s field,
waiting for your open heart.
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Beautiful. Totally resonated. Was what I needed right now.
Who wrote that? The depth of truth I found caused my soul
to release a sigh of relief. That's been my problem, my despair,
and I've been rescued!! But those powers, those filaments of
illusion winding, so Beautiful!! But deadly. If I look, which
I sometimes do, the allure, the mental drug trip catches and
twists me. It takes time to see it, extricate from it, put
value, what I value, what you value in it's place.
Excellent play on words, cult-ural, hidden in plain sight indeed.
I'm going to try to open a file for this.(on a tablet).