There’s no such thing, as a broken machine. No dead ends, only visions of possibility. Try again, and make it better next time. Learn. Experience. Walk a path, and realise that it’s not about the destination, but about the journey. Ignore deadened souls. Go to those who have something magical about them. Some kind of zest, that touches you in a way that nothing else comes close to. Do things differently. See with your heart. Make visible those emotions and feelings others try so desperately to keep hidden. Speak the truth, and show compassion. Don’t be evil. Be kind.
Love all the losers. For losers feel the most. They know what it’s like to be beaten, to be alone with the stars. Losers have substance, for they hold emotion in the palms of their hands. Outside of acceptable society, they watch with sadness as the world turns without them. But it’s not a world you’d ever want to be a part of. It’s a world that eats itself with no knowledge of compassion. It’s a world devoid of meaning. Plastic culture and plastic love. All surface, no feeling. Losers do it just right. They might feel small, but they shine bright. Brighter and brighter each and every day. Their time will come, and as the world that shunned them melts into obscurity, they will taste salvation. And, it’ll be sweeter than wine. Sweet like the lips of a lover, in a warm, tender embrace.
Modern beauty is nauseating. Celebrity a cancer. People don’t dream of making a mark through the arts, they dream of making a mark simply through existing. Sex lives and cheap bodies. Social circles like tapeworms, spread upon the sticky floor of a nightclub. These insects do nothing to warrant immortality. All they do, is warrant forgetting. And as quickly as possibly, with any luck. Banality. Fast cars and money. They fit in. So hollow and unoriginal. Tacky little heroes. Icons of impotence. Culture. A culture you can stick inside your hole. A way of living, sought by those with nothing to offer. No creation, only imitation. Rise above it at all costs. Never give in, never give up. Stay the way you are, even though for now, there’s nothing but a terrible sense of longing. The sadness will always stay, but glory is waiting.
Rain pouring in through the curtains, thunder rolls in the distance. Wet hands as they reach out and touch something more. Clouds move like shadows, time passing without need. Smoke a cigarette. Lay down and smile. Think of all the beauty that you know. Think of everyone that you love, and feel blessed to be alive. The lines around my eyes tell me I’m getting older, but the child inside lives on. My bones ache more and more with every passing day, but my mind belongs to the kid who never stopped questioning the world around him. The thirst for knowledge still there. The desire for adventure, as strong as it was so many years ago. Imagination wild and free. Stupid smiles and curiosity. Believe in wonder. Ask for more. Crave what’s unseen, demand what you want, and settle for nothing less. This life can be heaven or hell. Make it heaven.