We are the art that lives, but for how long can we stare at the same painting before we desire to drench it in white paint and primer, and start a new masterpiece?. We are not just letting go of the old ways; we do not simply march out of the dark cities we have created, filled to the brim with forms to whom we have given the job of preventing the enlightenment of our lives. They have done well, keeping us out of the sunlight and the great open fields. We are requiring that they let go of us, but their sentience is artificial, and they do what they were made to do, so it feels like going to war. writewithspirit/letters-of-love--madness/when-your-city-crumbles
Posted on: Fri, 05 Sep 2014 19:53:14 +0000
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