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In a world overrun by parasites, you must become indigestible.

Everybody is caught in the habit of pretending all is well even if they are each dragging a chain of thousand corpses through the deserts of their haunted hearts.

Everybody wears a mask and our great privilege and delight is to see and share glimpses of each other's true faces. Everybody takes turns being halfway through the bowels of things we don't discuss in polite company. Given all that, let's try to be kind, despite habit, despite conditioning, despite the hip-gnosis that blocks true sight.

Human beings and human doings will swell your heart and wring it dry. Somebody is bearing a weight you can't imagine. Somebody is carrying the seed of incredible good works and every horror bears the potential for redemption. Don't let the machine hijack your limbic system. There are ways of living off the pain of others. As the ant farms the aphid, as we farm the other animals, there are those that farm our darkness and encourage this dark mess. Starve 'em, say I.

Life is getting more complex, more bizarre, and therefore more terrifying. The lust for control born in the fear of pain and incubated in the Verbal Hologram we all soak in makes us crazy and our "leaders" madder than we can imagine. The truth is it's all on shuffle, balancing itself, and we are only in charge of our actions and reactions. We need not sell ourselves to cardboard cutouts or put our wrists out for hungry manacles. Freedom will not come from bowed heads.

We are driven by a need for order, but undulation is the law. You will get seasick in the waves of chaos from time to time. When you're ill and low and feeling chewed up, remember that there is a part of you that cannot be turned into fuel by the unspeakable and invisible. Try to identify with that and in the meantime, try to remember we're all in it.

Sunshine kills infection. Be radiant. And when you can't, make amends and start over. Learn to return. Give the things that would devour you so much gas it won't be worth the trouble. Catch yourself, moment to moment, cooperating with your psychic tapeworms, and stop short of the well-worn path. Step up and out, from circle to spiral. That way lies freedom. It's gradual, it's tedious, it's exhausting, but it's the cure.

Starting now, stop being food. Start finding ways to feed.

 

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