Ideal of Clarity

An Ego cannot truly exist. The mind and body are split-a God awe-full mess blind and speechless. Blind for true sight is tainted. Speechless in that what said is cluttered with excess and meaning is lost in the cycle that is humanity. Searching for justifications in a messy existence that suffocates a mentality breeding fear and self-pity.

[Deep breathe]

The world seems to have a fetish for entropy, even as our very respiration-physiological being denies it. A vicious birth and struggle for the livelihood of the Ego. Nurtured by the countless populations of our hierarchies perfection. The Ego's presence is now Godly. Our astray is far from the spirit, and what is there to show for it? A constant attack on others and the self.

The Ego is a personal entity-but it is not of you. The parapersona. Life turns into a masquerade ball; busy little bees go around and share Ego interactions. Now living in a fabricated existence. The state of growth has reared the Ego as apart of the self, identification in the familiar- but there is a trade off being the creator and the created. An Ego satisfies desires that are away from the self. Always just a bit out of reach. Humanity is addicted to this Disneyland of dreams.

The ideal of clarity works against life as we know it now, unconscious. We are in the fast lane, constantly seeking new life and experience. Bigger, better, and faster on a seasonal basis. We hold back, if we submit to every desire we are purely animals. Ego is guilt. Thinking our action of desire is uncouth- not being an innate ideal. “Devils work” in the eyes of generations past. What is not understood or unclear is against God. This is really against the self, God is not split-only the self that perceives is-

Perceiving is concrete and individual. A hierarchy that strives to fit in, but also shines above and beyond all else. This uniqueness is a self, based on conditional shallow pride. As culture with the taxonomy to identify all by their differences it goes as no surprise. The same is boring-there is no satisfying that itch of the ever evolving fringe.

This human nature has plopped us where we are today-And the main focal for this progress → Creation in art. Art does not regurgitate what is; there is manipulation, then recreation. This progression is far from clear; it is unique and sold as such. The self is put into each piece created. Poetry and word play have intention of not being so clear. In this vague creation we are entertained by what you and I project into the artsy abyss that is the self.

What of a world without the Ego? That existence is a place of acceptance for a world that is. What would be involved in life without manipulation? When hungry, eat, when tired, rest. And perfect harmony. Life without ego does not have to be austere, it is a simple harmony of living-all else is irrelevant and contains no knowledge.

Life has been entertainment used as means to an end. The end contains no knowledge. What does the humanity want at this stage? In necessity for clarity? Or Excess. We cannot be validated by financial security or new toys-even the trophy mate. There is no going back only forward in this humanity cycle. Progression is the use of the unclear to allude to something beyond words. Here lies a key of nano proportions from a soon to be Sci-fi world.

Emerson's poem- Maya (spelled Maia)

Illusion works impenetrable,
Weaving webs innumerable;
Her gay pictures never fail,
Crowd each other, veil on veil;
Charmer who will be believed
By man who thirsts to be deceived