A dream of a Bodhisattva


When you realize how society is working, you get into a stupor. Wherever you look, you cannot find a natural straw to clutch for.

You scream, “I don’t want your fake TV”.

You scream, “I don’t want your mechanical food”.

You scream, “I don’t want your insincere smile”.

You whisper, “I don’t want your defective entertainment”.

You whisper, “Just give me the world as is, I’ll figure it out!”

And they, the amorphous pronoun, they think that you are having a bad day.

Living in today’s world feels like somebody else’s acid trip, except at times it’s unbearably beautiful.

Oh, it is good. It is very, very good. But once you realize how society is working, you wonder, whether you want to participate. You get into a stupor. Wherever you look, you cannot find a natural straw to clutch for.

When you know, how do you go back to business as usual? How do you smile, how do you maintain conversations about zombies?

When you recognize broken language everywhere people use language, and see millions of lips moving in sync, repeating gibberish, do you scream at the top of you lungs and wake up, or do you jump in and try to heal?