Manifesto of a Continuous Thought It’s the summer of 2004, and the golden daffodils have already reached their peek after burning away the spring. Children now play in the streets and the women would shout over busy roads just to tell another of the gossip; much to the driver’s dismay. Your father would spend most of his time down the pub, but you didn’t mind because it meant more time by yourself. Sitting in the room, playing mind games and asking yourself random questions: ‘where’s the humanity?’ Neighbours would smile synthetically against the pale face of your contempt for them. Little did they know that you were God, and only you mattered? …Fuck this ‘holier than thou’ attitude, and spend a night within the four walls of your own room. Confined within your own boundaries that prevent you from unleashing that creativity, that destruction, that enigma that only ‘God’ can utilize. Only then, after your own voluntary confinement can you expect yourself to be any better than another person; but keep telling yourself that, prick, and tolerate no more tolerance. We should learn to adapt our own being to those of others. We should learn to embrace the cultures and feed our own intuition of knowledge; for knowledge is not power. Would knowledge win a battle between you and 9mm? Surely not – Obviously not! You would be a fool to think so. Hitler was not intelligent, yet he managed.
If you could post a bigger signature picture you might even be able to reach into LA's post and read it.
