i feel this intensely about where we are as a species in this lifetime on this rock

I’m not meant for this world.
I’m not.
I’ve stud­ied the hu­man psy­che for so long
and I’ve stretched my mind be­yond lim­its I can nev­er un­know.
We can’t feel hap­pi­ness with­out feel­ing sad­ness and chem­i­cal pro­duc­ers and re­cep­tors are a bitch.
And there are so many things in this world I will nev­er un­der­stand,
and I’m okay with that,
ex­cept when it comes to peo­ple.
Oth­er peo­ple.
What is the point of co­ex­ist­ing on this plan­et
when peo­ple can ac­tive­ly and in­ten­tion­al­ly be hurt­ful to oth­ers,
when the op­tion to not be,
ex­ists
in­her­ent­ly with­in us hu­man be­ings.
Es­pe­cial­ly when every­body hurts,
and every­one agrees they do not like it.
I think about my fu­ture,
I feel tired.
I know SOME­ONE will try to an­swer this,
it is fol­ly.
 
 

—blu

Flom­mist Blu is an enig­ma. A metaphor wrapped in an al­le­go­ry. ‘I am Jack’s colon. If I get can­cer, I kill Jack.’ Copy­right © 2017 mech­a­nizzm.

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con­verse about art be­yond en­cy­clopæ­dia re­pro­duce the em­path­ic re­sponse peo­ple games go­ing for­ward sort­ing trump­som­nia: feel­ing ex­haust­ed and afraid