A man sits down at a typewriter, and pours his heart out; leaking every truth that he had ever come into contact with. A few days later, he tries desperately to get it published " no one has the time of day for that kind of piece. How would the people react if they found out that their entire lives are lies…that everything they know; just isn’t so? They must’nt find out. Last time was close. It’s drivel for the masses and magnum opi for the masters.
A woman sings, and she sings, and she sings…finally finding that hidden note that opens the path to the collective dream of mankind " unity, love, knowledge. She wrote a song and she sung out her soul. Too out of control; can’t play that sort of stuff on here. The boss told me I’m out if I play conscious music again. It’s discordant disasters produced by madmen for the masses and orchestras for the controllers. I mean, our schedule is pretty booked up; you would’ve had to get it to us by May 1st 1776.
Illumi-a-what? Never heard of ‘em mister! I just wanted to write the next 1984/BNW…I didn’t mean to discover this tapestry of deceits stemming from every direction! Alas, this savage knows his place. Do you? I mean, have you ever really thought about it? What you really are? Think! Think! Think! Io Pan! I mean Think! You are something whose magnitude you could not fathom; even with the greatest map man has ever drawn (and I don’t mean that quack Frater Perdurabo). What if the secret of secrets was right in front of your nose? Would you smell it? Would you even care?
Lightning round! Who are you? Did you answer with where you work? Did you think of a location; with some nice things? Are you really these things? No! You are you and I am I; but I am you and you are I. It’s why I know that even though you’re sighing right now (not sure whether you’re reading the ravings of a mad man, or the fourth incarnation of Thoth) that you are deeply intrigued by the words on this page. Otherwise, you would have stopped reading by now. Stop reading. Did you stop? Would you ever let someone, that you’ve never met, tell you what to do - like that? No? Then why do you obey, every single day - you stare at that damned screen and don’t question a thing?!
So why are we here? What are we alive for? Why must we suffer? I don’t know, man; I didn’t do it. Or did I? Or was it you? Maybe it was us when we were I? I couldn’t tePost too long. Click here to view the full text.