“Squatting on old bones and excrement and rusty iron, in a white blaze of heat, a panorama of naked idiots stretches to the horizon. Complete silence – their speech centres are destroyed – except for the crackle of sparks and the popping of singed flesh as they apply electrodes up and down the spine. White smoke of burning flesh hangs in the motionless air. A group of children have tied an idiot to a post with barbed wire and built a fire between his legs and stand watching with bestial curiosity as the flames lick his thighs. His flesh jerks in the fire with insect agony.”
― William S. Burroughs, Naked Lunch
Be criticized, and judged by the society, that you are expected to adhere to the rule’s of. Bow to that which is the going to work, when your going to be done, are the gone things in frosted best interest, and with no harm, but for none other than defined love for, your society – a general.
The good that will come is the selfless good of making the best of a self, in the arena I choose, because that is where the men are separated from the animals, for fancy and feats of feasts and festering jests.
Intellect, freedom, choice, and the will to live in their own manner with one purpose – staying alive, and being real, at the will of the story.
Stored abandon, believing you are telling the truth, so you can actually be free, and be able to not be judged. But the truth is a liar in his honesty, and they are listening to the truth so that they can judge the fell tail and be able to rise about “that” – smirking, inside even addressing the question that the voice is asking them.
Do they actually feel an empathy for you, and relate to that understanding without casting the aspersion, or is it a masked form of sympathy only provided by one that is not in the situation, and even implied as heavily as an inference of misconduct?
We taste real understanding in the lasting severance from the meals, bodies close to severe breakdown, questioning of the very existence, an aged rationale chronograph sure questing for an axis of reason to it all, and the frustrations that come from some of the mistakes, challenges that were made along the way.
Time and will not to be wrong, the reflection of space and context relative to a rancid will, entitled to a question.
Are you going to eat that?