I found myself becoming a slave to hedonism.
Masquerading as a left-hand path magician,
Worshiping debauchery as a martyr,
The inevitable flip-side to decadence being pain.
If my response to chaos is adding fuel to the fire
to a hangover, having a drink;
to soreness, working out;
to being full, eating more;
to orgasm, seeking the next partner…
What does that make me? A sinner in the true sense of the word, one who misses the mark.
Redirected greed, systematic scrambling of brain cells, digging deeper into familiar grooves.
I am choosing to be a serf, my field is the sickening expanse of time, my lord is the devil.
Not as in Satan, but rather the tarot card.
Its meaning is defined as: being seduced by the material world and physical pleasures.
Also: Living in fear, domination and bondage; being caged by an overabundance of luxury.
A first world problem, a karmic fuck-up, a sad little paradox.
In my next life, I don’t want the dizzying freedom of choice. I want to be a monk.
Every day is a gift that I throw in the garbage.
Every moment of grace is a short-lived false epipĥany.
A fool who never grows up becomes a mad tyrant
Let’s agree to put all of our trust in luck and potentially die trying.