Drugs are the last refuge for the sane, and the first for the insane.
Not being yourself is the last thing the sane wants, and the first thing on the insane’s list.

// last bit of philosophy//

Problems:
- Are we experiencing the infinite of are we in an infinite loop of the finite.
- We can never speed up fast enough to reach the infinite because of the maths of it.
- Though our discoveries might prolong our existence, we cannot guarantee that we’ll discover the infinite before we are whipped out.

- If we are already part of the infinite then the conscious self is still subject to the illusion making our infinity pointless.

// We could already be infinite//

1) This relies on Stephen Hawking’s theory that the universe collapses and explodes in infinite repetition being correct.
2) If this is true then we are already infinite but under the illusion of time, so there is no problems caused by the finite interacting with the infinite.
3) The rate at which we are understanding the universe is increasing along with the complexity of the discoveries, so given appropriate ‘time’ our discoveries will be increasing at such a rate that we’ll be discovering the infinitely complex at an infinitely fast rate.
4) If we survive long enough for this to happen then eventually we will discover how to break the illusion of the finite and enter the infinite, at which point all reality ‘passed’ ‘pressent’ and ‘future’ will enter the infinite, creating a problem of space, but if we can break the dimension of time, then we, discovering things infinitely fast, will also break the dimension of space.

5) Discovering things infinitly fast we will move to the realms of the infinitly powerful.

I’m sure there are those who care,
But they can’t always be there,
And nor would I want them to hear my inner child break fill my damned soul.

// The Soul Breaker/The Reckoning//

If you took my heart from my chest then I hope you will see the source of my misery,
I can’t put my finger on whats wrong because my eye’s are corrupted as my crippled lungs.
If searching for my sorrow you better check my chest,
It’s near my belly, but not in front, behind or in it.
I believe it’s hiding in a darker place.
I’d really like to meet my problems face to face.
A faceless horror is a scary thing,
But hating what you do not know is foolish can you see?
You take my soul and set it free because I cannot stand for it to be close to me.
Take it away and scrub it clean, fill it with love and return it to me.

My soul is clean now and my life is how it should be,
I do what I like and love every being.
I write and do what makes me happy,
I have become, more than a human being,
To reach the divine follow this philosophy,
keep the ones you love, happy,
And be, who you want to be.
So I suffer not the ignorance of men,
My fantasy is no longer pretend,
And if God, is judging me,
He should know, not to fuck with me.
If God, want to give my life to worship then he,
Should not, have given this life to me.

// Stood Up//

For reasons know to you you get dressed up,
Fancy shoes fancy socks,
Your Phone Buzzes something wrong.

You’ve been abandoned and you look your best,
Time to strike back lest
You want to waste your amazing looks?

Time to get productive read some books,
Better yet write your own,
Because good looking times produce beautiful notes.

Fire in your wrist no chance to stop,
(Writers Cramp FUCK)
Because an unfed fire turns to ash.

You set yourself up for an amazing night,
Jokes on them you got busy,
For like an un-teathered fire you burn brightest,

Clouds move across the moon, nights sun,
Beauty inspired,
Take a drag, dark depths of your lungs,

Breath out the smoke you create new clouds,
You god in denial,
No more shall mortals rule your fate.

Your written words fucked them up worse,
No mistake,
Your beautiful and cannot be replaced,

Entering the divine on a night of creation,
Yours only yours,
Me and you we’re the same,

Twice of them and growing entwined.