The Problem With Truth

The problem with truth is that people who talk about it assume that it is some beautiful default or ideal or “natural” state and of course that isn’t the truth at all. There is no truth. There is no love. There is no right or wrong. There is no nature. Talking about nature immediately classifies it as something else that is not here when the only nature that exists is whatever is happening right now. Everything is true. Even the biggest lie or deceit or destruction or disgrace imaginable is true regarding it’s own existence. If you wanna call that love or truth or god, do it but don’t cover it with a bunch of candy-coated disney shit. What the hell does it mean? We have been brainwashed to chase things that are nothing more than glorified ideas to keep the money flowing. Nobody can save the world because the world don’t need saving! Especially from some idiotic grass roots movement full of people who can’t get laid so they try to have some control by helping others. The world is doing just fine. When it’s time to clean house, it will do so. Sure, kids are starving and animals are being tortured but that’s part of the game. If you don’t want to play, check out and leave. Kill yourself. That’s the best thing anyone can do but nobody wants to do it because we are all obsessed with power in one form or another. Even those that claim to live for peace and harmony. They are as much power hungry as the warlords and wall street rats. Wanting something. Something more, something else. Truth, love, power, peace, harmony, war, nature, god, money, health, etc, etc, etc (the whole human dictionary)… just words and concepts and ideas and theories and maps and beliefs…. that resemble the patterns and symbols and behaviors and flavors and sounds of the REAL world. The world is a dump. Yet it is a paradise. For whom? For me? For you? For the earthworms? For the cockroaches? For the living? For the dying? Things are getting better. AND worse. At the same time. Forever and always and never. Everything changes. For better or worse? Again, depends who is the subject and who is the object. We know too much. We care too much. We are too aware. The human condition of infinite imagination was doomed from the get go. It is a road that leads to a cliff. And you know what? We are already flying in the air, heading down. The big bang has never happened yet. Nothing has. It’s only moments. Moment after moment after moment. Awaiting us. Welcoming us. But no. We constantly try to invent new categorizations and systems and thoughts until we are so dumbed down with our own marathon of life that we start believing our own shit. We start thinking that we are living better than the others. As if our bones were more pure, our blood more red, our life more special. As if were somehow more free from the clutches of death.