Now more then ever

I don’t even know how to cry anymore.

All of it is disheartening; I was looking at the trees watching the leaves rustle in the wind and felt compelled to ask how did we get here? This landscape of mediocrity, this arena of the absurd, this showcase of the faux and shameless. It makes no sense none of this makes sense, cherish all things fake, embellished and exaggerated. We empower the ignorant give platforms to the uneducated and ill-informed, the louder you are, the greater your congregation. You are not what you portray fake it until you make it.
We have become so culturally deprived it crushes me to no end. Life is not meant to be clenching to pennies, licking the scraps sacrificing love and happiness for illusions. How has authenticity become a paved road to be run over continuously? How has entertainment dumbed us down to insignificant 6 seconds of thought? We should celebrate a stream of information, consciousness, unique perspective, beauty and social inclusion, yet we still orchestrate on a filter of nonsense. How can the logic that life: One, and only ONE turn on the roller coaster of life not be understood by all. Beyond black, white or in-between; Life, human life, like all life has its importance. Excuse after excuse, zero compromises or solution. Just a rabid absolutism of me vs. you. Has our apex come and gone and now herein lies the passages of savagery as the masters have designed and discussed to come to pass? Why must I showcase an ability of significance to the masses in the most insignificant way to appeal and draw eyes to rehashed nothingness?

I don’t know how to cry anymore because it goes beyond comprehension, a dollar sign is all that hangs over my head with a plus symbol: colored green and a minus symbol colored red. No matter how focused I get, no matter how many prayers I make, no matter how much positive energy put out, I’m told the showcase of my success is my net worth, follows, thumbs up, likes, clicks, and emoticons of expression. Yes, of course, there is a value on art to the beholder, value to the buyer. We all should get paid for the work we produce. But there is also a responsibility for the consumer to demand appropriate enlightenment and education so that what remains will be left for someone else in a far better light. I write this with Coltrane blaring in the background, I become teary-eyed, yet I yield no tears because I don’t even know how to cry anymore.

I blame no one but myself, I make no excuses. I cringe at what I think will happen later on, rarely able to discuss it but I get engulfed with emotion at times. With what I wish would happen, knowing it’s of a fairy tail, an altered reality that holds no semblance to what is present here and now.

All of it lies, to you to me to everyone. At one point artistically wrapped in a beautiful box, with a beautiful ribbon, the lies were concealed. Now we are so drunk off of ignorance, hypnotized by distraction, mesmerized by the mediocre that there’s no need to place the falsehoods and hidden agendas in a box anymore. Now we can say it loud and proud; I care about no one else, but myself and I will do anything legal or illegal to get to where I want to go. Corruption does not bother me; lying does not bother me, insulting your intelligence, insulting my intelligence, disingenuous behavior, and or slander does not bother me. Call me fake, call this a charade, a ruse, a red herring if you want but if I’m living out my financial dreams off the corpses of your kin then so be it. Save yourself because I’m not; sadly this has been the mantra. There was a time that anything that was fake and unsubstantiatied would disintegrate into dust, it disappeared never to be acknowledged. It would get spotted and called out and sent back to which it came, cast away or it rotted as only the authentic would last through time.

Now here we are, where at some point all that is unauthentic has taken over the major landscape. The authentic is seemingly in the minority cast aside and laughed at for not keeping up. Being dissected and twisted to something that no one wants to deal with. No one wants to acknowledge or hear, only to be ridiculed and tossed for having foolish thoughts of repelling all that has consumed us. Maybe my ideas would be better received if this was all a lie. I sincerely forgot how to cry wondering what impact can I make and why should I even try. With water filled eyes. The pied piper has created a dystopian filled mind.

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