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If you believe you won’t perish before your descendants are torn into atoms apart, you’ll need to look at the world from a lesser distance to start to understand universal love for it is loud as a boom that’s sonic, not bourne of sexuality, nor in nature Platonic. It is an absence of anxiety which in this day and age ain’t a state we can see, where we discover and abuse our plasticity to work longer hours, utilizing privacy to look up some 90s rapper and his golden showers again in shame with just ourselves to blame, but represented by a logical lawyer for a lack of free will, deduction will tell you that no-one’s to get defamed for the crime of everyone, who’s lead you to respond in the way you had done. Running, but you’re standing still, yet shaken with commotion, the best place to get your salt is right from the ocean. Step outside and take in your stride the environment you were calibrated for before you were educated into waging large scale wars and come to peace with the fact when you are wounded there’s visceral sores. Open your minds to infection if from affection or another type of human connection and enjoy the confection from lifestyle overstimulation before we turn eachother against ourselves and engage in a merely renamed game crying over starvation and stand for no reason in guilt over the fear of what you’ve done, for in many years the universe will split apart, Earth, Sun, long since your bones are lost and gone. Turn around and talk to a stranger to give them the time and build resources, let your neural networks blend and breed, evolution relies on entropy. Hold your horses and draw an analogous map, people are peers, not energy taps, you can’t be drained, you can’t be changed by thoughts when you act the same. Open your ears and engage your mind, for letting it stay still too long burns your old patterns in, wears you thin, you are an animal, not a robot made of tin. Exploit the goo, the gray and the white, your future’s determined, but ain’t fate you can fight. Stop banging ’bout purpose and stop making vows, romantic poetry runs into a long surplus now. Open your second eye and run sincere, reduce your guard, step closer to the truth young seer.