That morning cloaks my skin as usual—I had to once again keep the sunlight from touching me, had to seem normal…
Silences always weigh heavy… the society progresses, but consciousness does not—they only upgrade the toys, they don’t care about your essence.
There’s an ancient spirit within each of us that doesn’t update with Wi-Fi.
Sometimes I see them try to buy me, an attempt to possess me like a rare object, something that brings prestige, stimulates, or offers an illusion of power over something untamable—but I’m not for sale, not even if they could pay me with their energy.
What are money and sex but their currency… you don’t seek them because they hold deep meaning in your life; with the first, they tame you, oh friend, for the second, your instinct is programmed to chase it—one of your primal needs.
Primal? Yes, because where you don’t question why—instinct rules.
I don’t idealize the wild—I abhor it—nor do I lower authenticity from its pedestal…
Personally, I don’t believe our origin is wild; I think the wild is the noise, the consumption, the need for constant external stimulus…
If we think of it this way, civilization doesn’t tame the wild: it produces it.
They domesticate us by exciting us, not by repressing us.
They make us docile through excess—of stimuli, screens, sex, urgency—until we confuse the tremor with life.
My intuition is a perfect investment: perhaps serenity was the natural state, and the wild is hyperconnectivity.
Perhaps barbarism is overstimulation.
Understanding so much makes me a master, but I refuse to be one—stupidity exhausts me just by noticing it in a being… the world spins with no sense of timing… centuries have shown me this in a few breaths 😮💨
Now I see them, small and defenseless— remind me of my first pup haha
Today? No, I no longer trade my peace… I prefer fasting 🍷🩸
So many options, and all are appearances, none are real.
I no longer speak too much; I’ve learned to keep many things to myself… what are explanations?
Perhaps they’re like programs, many can’t be updated because their version is outdated 😮💨
I watch them from afar, and the more I zoom in, the more grotesque their lies appear… lies I read before they weave them into their stories—creatures addicted to drama… stimulus has replaced purpose 😒
Serial liars, same pattern, no exception—they wield their instinct as a weapon to shield themselves from uncomfortable situations—their actions toward others vary, but the consequences on the other seem like scripts seeking justice 😮💨
Me? I decide when to believe them…
I also ask them not to give me explanations, because once you believe their first lie, you train them to lie more 😒
I’m no coach for lies—but nor am I free of sin to judge them 🥀
I’ve always said:
“You must choose from freedom”
Often they are guided by their instincts, while as long as you stay rational, you graze the red fire but don’t let your blue fire be tainted.
I also said:
“Don’t ask me questions if you know the answer”
Guarding consciousness isn’t just about not carrying souls as a result of our actions—as if morality were only about leaving no victims—it’s knowing which souls we need to keep at a distance.
Sharing doesn’t mean merging—their energy shouldn’t cling to ours.
Bye now! 🧛🏻♀️❤️🔥
