*antago

Sometimes I think life is just the chaotic underlinings of the thoughts within my fetal brain collecting itself. This or that, him, her: just thoughts within a vast godmind learning to acquaint itself with its own divinity. By divinity, I mean the ability to convince myself that this thing called life is something beyond coincidence or something so definite that there is nothing else.

The people so vastly against me, or stuck in religion (or even their own skin--and often worse, outside their own skin and no longer know what their skin is doing), are really simply more parts to me; they are the parts of me resistant to my own existence and fetal growth, the parts of me resistant to my own happiness. And yet still there're those who are so brilliant and beautiful they reflect all that is love, that brings me joy and that I want. It is this when I realize that you are just me fulfilling me.

What becomes and involves of others is ordinarily not my business and I have no desire to be so selfless I forget who I am in a storm of sorrow and sadness, guilt and slavery, to submit myself to others' existence. Sure, others exist, but they're never my first priority. For me, I have endowed myself with enough strength and consciousness that I'm here to do what it is that I need to and wish to do--oh, for you.

Truly this thing called birth is only a mere facet of a larger birth our fetal existence is preparing to endure. Call it death, call it god, heaven, hell, or even a fucking chicken burrito, I don't care. Human beings, life forms, planets and solar systems, they're all but me entertaining myself until another birth of some form. I suppose what form will be depends on whoever we are. For you or me, we are each other--I can see it, I can dream that.

So powerful and so creative that some of us have actually convinced ourselves that other things are not just themselves. All the same,

regards,
- me