dreaming
what we think is reality are imaginative thoughts indulged in while awake just trying to find a way out make way through the crowd because when the faces turn you see their forsaken identities enigmatic with that of the drowning of yourself as an eclectic individual and so what you see will be nothing at all because nobody cares
it begins with instruction that squires a forlorn misanthropy to which people follow in buoyant and blithely thoughts because society has been shredded into strings used to floss the teeth of whatever oaf would do such a thing while life is harder to face and while an asymmetric piece of the puzzle sympathizes with those that appear to fit because in the end fitting doesnt matter
nobody is to care unless they are blind unless they are dead they are to notice but life is just too busy to do much else not a care in the world not a face in the crowd that aligns along the invisible interface the concave fortress so named life because all that we know is coming to a close and all that awaits just sits along a time line with nothing that is real because nobody cares
nobody cares anymore
because nothing matters
because what we face is naught but anything
naught but
anything
but endless reverie—
water is painted so colorfully adroit but while a pristine intimacy remains an eminence this singularity is seldom heard of because things that are wet somehow get darker and any publicity is good publicity but if everybody knows how they do it it somehow becomes a freak in a deviated digression in a deflected pike
so why dont you go first
take off your face
and i wont mind
because i dont care
not anymore
so what are you so afraid of?
Death is what we are so afraid of. And in the end, its inversion - light - encompasses three tribunal territories: sin, pleasure, and death itself. And so without death, life would cease to exist. Life is but an innocent harlequin personification. It is an epidemic. Today we play Russian Roulette just to cheat in our game of life.
Existence reminisces and runs counterclockwise with that of nature. It is existence that is killing off everything else. The time line will be wiped off at this rate. And what if existence is not so? After all, what is existence if existence is naught? Nothing would exist. Or perhaps something less?
Imagine;
It is dark, and yet it is not. But it is not light either. If you look around, you will find that you cannot, because distance, direction—they do not exist. Life would be inevitable because of the perfect balance between hard and soft, sweet and tart proportions—chiaroscuro, as I would say. Time does not even exist anymore, so there is neither anything that happens after that moment of eerie realization, nor anything before. The fact that there is no existence—that there is nothing—simply proves itself as existence, thus resulting in a paradox.
Now, what if existence—all existence—had one role and one role only: to send society into a more... favorable digression? What if existence was artificial, an invention devised by some sick, sadistic harlequin? Look at the bigger picture. Life is an endless reverie, a boundless slumber, that all existence falls into in order to prevent disruption of some higher plane that we are unaware.
There is no afterlife because life is nonexistent. Why else would we be so afraid of dying? Life is naught, stashed away so that we do not interrupt the tranquility, the perfection. Some people are swallowed into insanity to achieve this serenity.
If there was no existence...
Imagine what a peaceful place this would be.
Such a thought is wild, scary beyond conception. Now, could be possible that some insane individual, damned in the mind, had this fancy realized long ago? Perhaps this freak dropped all life, all existence, into the bitter pit of a hopeless anesthetic, forcing everything into this strange reality that we call life in order to secure whatever exists within that separate dimension that this sociopath thrives in. Even his own posterity now inhabit the structured libretto of this so called "life", encompassing the entire insane population.
You think you can cheat death?
You are wrong.
Come on.Show some class.
Existence reminisces and runs counterclockwise with that of nature. It is existence that is killing off everything else. The time line will be wiped off at this rate. And what if existence is not so? After all, what is existence if existence is naught? Nothing would exist. Or perhaps something less?
Imagine;
It is dark, and yet it is not. But it is not light either. If you look around, you will find that you cannot, because distance, direction—they do not exist. Life would be inevitable because of the perfect balance between hard and soft, sweet and tart proportions—chiaroscuro, as I would say. Time does not even exist anymore, so there is neither anything that happens after that moment of eerie realization, nor anything before. The fact that there is no existence—that there is nothing—simply proves itself as existence, thus resulting in a paradox.
Now, what if existence—all existence—had one role and one role only: to send society into a more... favorable digression? What if existence was artificial, an invention devised by some sick, sadistic harlequin? Look at the bigger picture. Life is an endless reverie, a boundless slumber, that all existence falls into in order to prevent disruption of some higher plane that we are unaware.
Suicide is one option...
You just kind of go a bit mad.
You're gonna want a scrapbook...
There is no afterlife because life is nonexistent. Why else would we be so afraid of dying? Life is naught, stashed away so that we do not interrupt the tranquility, the perfection. Some people are swallowed into insanity to achieve this serenity.
If there was no existence...
Imagine what a peaceful place this would be.
Such a thought is wild, scary beyond conception. Now, could be possible that some insane individual, damned in the mind, had this fancy realized long ago? Perhaps this freak dropped all life, all existence, into the bitter pit of a hopeless anesthetic, forcing everything into this strange reality that we call life in order to secure whatever exists within that separate dimension that this sociopath thrives in. Even his own posterity now inhabit the structured libretto of this so called "life", encompassing the entire insane population.
O H T H I S P L A G U E Y O U S E N D U P O N M E N O W .It is time to wake up.
Name:
Age:
Gender:
Hometown:
Clothing:
Hair Color/Style:
Build/Height:
Personality:
History:
Rules
1. Please no "God-Modding"
2. Not too much inappropriate content; keep it PG-13
3. Respect me, as this RPG’s founder, and your partner RPers.
4. Do not use netspeak (lol, omg, wtf, *hits with sword*)
5. No one-liners (posts with only one lines)
6. No solitary OOC posts.
7. Please do not RP in the way you would write a script. For example...
8. Add "reverie" to the beginning of your character template post if you've read the rules.
(The "RPG Archives" section is "read-only", so I am unsure where to post this RPG.)
Age:
Gender:
Hometown:
Clothing:
Hair Color/Style:
Build/Height:
Personality:
History:
Rules
1. Please no "God-Modding"
2. Not too much inappropriate content; keep it PG-13
3. Respect me, as this RPG’s founder, and your partner RPers.
4. Do not use netspeak (lol, omg, wtf, *hits with sword*)
5. No one-liners (posts with only one lines)
6. No solitary OOC posts.
7. Please do not RP in the way you would write a script. For example...
QUOTE
Aaron: Stop right there!
Thief: You will never defeat me!
Aaron: That's what you think!
Thief: You will never defeat me!
Aaron: That's what you think!
8. Add "reverie" to the beginning of your character template post if you've read the rules.
(The "RPG Archives" section is "read-only", so I am unsure where to post this RPG.)