Prose: I Can’t Sleep Tonight. How Can You?

I had dreams once, but then I had a nightmare and it was full of crooked cashiers, the iron fists of government and withheld financial aid. I woke up and realized we work our whole lives doing something we hate, convincing ourselves that our dreams aren’t last resorts that we chase, all in the futile attempts to gain something that really doesn’t exist outside of the way Capitalism forces us to think. The invention of money was the first instrument used to implement brain-washing. Our spiritual executioners are our government and the people themselves bought and handed the axe to each individual responsible for the pending holocaust, Apocalypse, or whatever it is that’s coming for us that every heart identifies as an impending threat to everything we know about living.

Money is the worst crime ever committed against nature.
We put a price on the pursuit of knowledge, we value lives at less than the cost of road construction, and worst of all, we made God and the pursuit of Him into a business.

And yet, I’ll wake up tomorrow and follow the same ole societal mantra of greed, pride and self-fulfillment as if none of this really matters. And so will you… and that’s really all that matters because I wouldn’t put up with it if everyone around me wasn’t putting up with it and telling me I had to. You and I, we’re each partly responsible for the misery humanity wrestles with each and every day.

I don’t know how anyone can sleep after they realize it’s all for vanity and pointless pursuits.

But I guess I’m just deeply unsatisfied with the doors that have been slammed in my face, and now, how I really feel about everything comes creeping to the surface like submarines.


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