The Semantics of an Earthly Existence.

i woke up today disgusted. disgusted with the fact that my stomache aches. aching with hunger, a hunger so strong it leaves me weak sad a wreck. As i go about my day i realize this hunger is spreading through my body like the virus we have been tryng to avoid. The hunger grows when i see a woman on the street begging. The hunger grows when i hear about kids dying for no reason. The hunger grows when i see that billionaires exist in this perfect society. The hunger is painful yet it grows with each second. The hunger is sadness yet it blooms with every passing moment. The hunger brings pain to ur chest as if its gripping u by the heart. The hunger shows u that pain is nothing more then a signal that something is not right. That this perfect society we live in is not perfect. There is no dream in America. There is no pursuit of happiness. The hunger knocks on the door to my mind as the abyss lays whispering into my ear. What is one supposed to do with this hunger. this feeling of unfulfillment. The pain that comes from looking at men women and children die in other countries just to realize its happening just outside your window. What am i supposed to do... Eat the Rich.

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  • i cry out in my sleep. FUCK THE WORLD. as i drive home with my dad from the burrito place we love we talk about how similar our lives are. The life of his parallels mine in the sense that our outlook on the state of our existence is that of a nihilist. My father finds hope in faith, i however am not so naive. With every prayer i utter the abyss whispers back. This desire cannot be quenched by a simple ideology created years ago to explain this situation we find ourselves in. Yea, you know we never really know how we are going to feel tomorrow. Neither do we know how we felt yesterday. We can try to remember and express that memory or prediction, yet at the end it will always be a construct of our mind. This awareness... why were We given awareness, rather... Why was I given awareness. Friends. I realise something, something beautiful. The truth behind awareness, pain, suffering, existence. Life is not about what you do. Its about what you feel and how you share these feelings with other people. The shared feelings in a way begin to take up a shape that is infinitely times more magnificent than anything our awareness can create in this physical realm. Time. Music. Art. All of these things are the same. In art such as a painting the medium is pain and the canvas is the realm. In music the notes are the medium and the rhythm/bars are the realm. in life, we are the medium and time is the realm. Of course one can dive into the SEMANTICS of each but the basis of all stands that things change. as humans we are able to rationalize the changes around us and create things that would beforehand never exist. God is us we are God. Music is what seperates awareness from unawareness. The ability to be aware of patterns aware of the minute nuances that exist between the notes.