Dark drops of cold fall onto the concrete blocks
Here comes another skeleton
Give me life, it says
I don't have life to give
I have barely enough life for me
What do you expect of me?
That I privatise and commodify my life portions as though they were products?
And feed them back to you as though you could have a lifelong supply?
Can't you make your own life, dear Skeleton?
... The gromits wander back and forth
No loyalties but their passions
The grim grey landscape describes the clarity of their mind's eye in detail
Grey in grey out
... "Continue make more grey.."
The gromits make grey real and the gentle folk applaud them
Grey is the colour of the month
The year
The century
Hell, let's just push everything through a grey sieve
Cause greyness for all creatures
So as there can no longer be a difference between black and white
... Would you like an organic coffee with your gluten free vegan muffin?
I sit on the corner of Queen and High - if this is a joke god, tell me now, so I can laugh with you instead of feeling a strange sense of ridicule being directed at my absurd existence
I don't mind if the joke is on me
I don't mind laughing at myself
I just like to know it is a joke
Thank you god for taking the consideration to let me know
A few random stares from the black jackets gives me a little thrill down my spine
Who is expecting what from whom?
The large mechanical crane lifts and drops things
Important gromits, doing important work. "huff, puff, hoo, hee"
To progress the empire of the gentle folk
The tall straddler gets his cup of brown muck and straddles on back
to the safe hold of the glass palace enclosure
The grey empire greets his step, the empire of the city
Manual: How to commodify a soul
First break it in to many pieces via causing a regretful life
Then extract via hard work
Cause a debased self-belief via a unholy alliance with an invisible guru
Run the clock of time and observe life drain itself until it dies
No other other guiding control necessary
Self-reliant and self-controlled
Perfection
The soul factory
The soul extractor
What is living in this world anyway?
The thing that animates the body?
The body is a dead thing
Blood, although it may pump, is a dead thing
Without the spirit there is not animation
And while it may pump for a time with the spirit removed
It will slowly give in to entropy and die
Observe the spirit principle
Observe capacities of spirit in the individuals
Differentiate between the true spirit and the false spirit
Identify what actions are spirit motivated and what actions are not
Above all, identify what the spirit is within the self and if, after honest self-reflection there is no spirit evident, search with all of self's heart to find a means by which to awaken a seed of spirit within the self and a method by which to cultivate it and grow it into a universe.
Otherwise there is but death
All actions lead to death
All perpetuity is bound for death
Everyone will die
Such glum bum
But it's actually very positive to be honest about such things
[a couple of shots of rum in my hot chocolate, causes a dark poetic reflection to ooze from the fingertips of this body]
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