Osmosis of Existence
Gamers come and go and the angles continue to grow. Options blast open, stages are set for us to trip through the frame. Time provides no choice only collections of recollections and justifications for every lie at sixty seconds per minute.
But these aren't riddles. These ideas are just the osmosis of existence based on the empirical. We are equipped with five signifiers that complete the experience.
Yet some would argue that the distinctions among sight, sound, smell, taste and touch are learned. Perhaps when the senses merge, we traverse the very system-stream of time; the embodiment of timelessness.
Coming to terms with the classics is like being force fed righteousness. We must find the forms that speak to us personally. There is a medium in each one of our hearts. Our souls know it, our brains crave it.
So we find the form in order to transform it, transcend it. Find the great sensation. Find the original sense. The original...sin.
There are no angel headed hipsters to hype the uninformed. No one can strive to see graffiti in the universe and the universe in graffiti without seeking to do so. There is no such thing as the ignorant artist. The folksiest of the folk arts are steeped in tradition and institutionalism.
We have formalized our emotions, our senses. But I will never advocate for the deformity of these things. There is no shock if there is no expectation. And just as extreme political and religious systems mirror each other, so too does our sense of acceptability and offensiveness. The mediums we love today, we abandon tomorrow.
To be fickle does not necessarily mean you are foolish. Our prejudices define us. The triumph of the will happens everyday, every hour, sixty seconds per minute.
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