A post by Abstract

Subject: Re: [1st cycle] New beginnings… Mon Mar 26, 2012 2:44 pm

Where has my passion gone?
Taken in by the expectations of the mass
and sat on with all their weight.

What am I to do but eat the bland factory productions,
that I now eagerly reach for?

Nothing but a chase of a high.

I am a Lost Man, but am I so lost to be a Last Man?

Or am I only lost behind the curtains,
as if laid over a chair to prevent dust,
am I a relic to be preserved only to entertain the Last-ic passers by in an earth of a museum?

Perhaps there is hope;
perhaps this age we are in is of the eye of the storm…
a calm of creativity
we are simply the observant who walk out to see only sooner to be whisked away by the returning hurricane…

Or Is this now to be the home of our children?:
To find things only interesting? :
To consume only the interesting?:
To be ever waiting to have value?:
What is it today but that we are stuck with treasures in a museum curtained to prevent dust, never to see real beauty, to have real value?
Perhaps we are moved by fear of its effect: the fear by the mass mind of the effect on the individuals of the mass.
The crowd moved by the museum tour guide, hurried on by fear, starring, feeding on the fear of the revealing of the truth; the beauty behind the curtain.

Is it that we are old, or cramped on this earth, surrounded by so much knowledge, the age of information, such that it is simply unavoidable that we sit in our own museum? Perhaps it is time that we clean, cleanse of the old and seek harder for the new, move away from the fear of loss of the relics, the old beliefs, and create. For it is with beliefs that our future must be painted.?

But then, the Last Man cannot realize the heaven they are in,
They cannot will the beauty; They get lost in in meaningless not realizing that meaninglessness.
They are lost to too much need of the more, the more interesting;
Looking for value instead of giving value.
Weather it is because they don’t understand
Or maybe don’t know any flavors they like
It is only lack of wisdom and true understanding that can keep you from your heaven
Weather it be burning in hell
Or flying with angels

Poetry is in the eye of the beholder and it is the power of the philosopher to behold all things as poetry. Power to will value to all.