Dirty Little Carousel

Why is the stigma of overly sexualized experiences so unfantastically true?  What is the deal with night and day social interactions being incredulously opposite?  Why is it that age to some is defining while others revel in the unripened state of youth and seem to receive inordinate amount of encouragement and praise?  If knowledge is the only thing that truly separates me from an animal why does it seem that the slow closed mind develops a social aptitude that is false and weak but seems to hold power over its surroundings?  Is there still so much wild in you and I?  Are we not that far away from our pre-human selves?  I can’t walk around this place without being objected to some obligatory form of vulgarity on my senses or an intrusive disruption of my passive mind. Stop trying to sell me, stop trying to persuade me!  Stop invading my life with your ineffectual and hollow form of association.  It seems today that the world sells itself short for a bright light, some sort of distraction.  Focusing on nothing is centering and nurturing but without meditation and understanding focusing on nothing is numbing.  We all are comfortably numb, you can’t feel me right next to you.  Stop this carousel Sir, I am going to have to get off.  Stop.

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