I'm on telegram now: https://t.me/jessiquora
You are a myth.
Nothing about you says you are yourself,
yet you are.
You don’t exist.
You think you do,
You believe You do,
thus causing You to believe in Yourself.
Is this belief your reality?
Is what you call objective nothing than symbols and God?
Is reality even real?
Throw yourself from the precipice,
Throw yourself into the stars,
Throw yourself out into your future,
Throw yourself into your great journey,
Throw yourself to the ground
Is there an alpine package for #pleroma already?
I love the feeling of Your skin against me.
You brighten my day every time you interject
with whatever it is you have to contribute.
You and I complete eachother, as do the rest of us.
Your adamant desire to improve the world
with every project You spark off,
yet You spread yourself so thin You can't keep up.
You care so much You've devoted Your slice of infinity.
You are worth loving.
You are the closest to my heart,
so close the light under the bandages twinkles through.
Your energy floats up effortlessly
up into your higher awareness.
Gracefully our essence touches,
turns and mingles,
yet shining together with a light all its own.
The intimacy of this embrace
coupled with the binding force of love
empowers us together to understand and explore
the world freely like curious children.
When I need you, I call.
You answer, I reply.
We dialogue immediately through the inner machinations of our minds.
We. Us. Our journey, inquiring Within.
I'm sure there is a name for this effect, but it's popularly understood there are two kinds of people among whom arguments start:
- people completely different from you
- people almost exactly the same as you, with minor differences
I fear the premise of mastodon being a hyper-leftist queer feminist utopia, and grouping all of those kinds of people together at the exclusion of anything else, is creating a perfect storm for that second bullet point.
this is mst3k