A Series on Humanity – Prelude

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My entire life I’ve been nothing special. At least that’s what people have communicated to me either verbally or in an indirect manner. Early on I didn’t believe it. I always felt like I was meant to be something more. Something special. I always felt like I was different from everyone else—like I had a greater destiny. The older I get the more I see how rampant self-delusion and hubris really are. Maybe we have to deceive ourselves simply so we can face each day. So we can stand tall on the bad days and feel better than everyone else—even if we don’t think we’re that way—on the good days. Cold hard reality is a real mother fucker though. What do you do when you finally see what everyone else sees in yourself? That you’re just a big pile of flesh that exists for the sole purpose of propping up someone else. That your usefulness is only measured in tangibles. How much can I do for you? How much money can I give you. How much work can I do for you?

There really isn’t much that can be done you see. I’m trapped by age, status, the system—it really feels as if the only true escape is death. I can’t do that though, because death isn’t what I want. I want to win. How do I define winning though? Winning is something that is too unrealistic. Having money and the freedom to escape? I don’t know how to get that. Is winning having the system crumble? No. I mean humanity developed this system and we’re a bunch of self-serving assholes. Even the people that are not that way at first are driven to some iteration of that. I feel it happening to me. Or is that my inner voice lying to me again—trying to make me feel that I am different—something special?  You know what is ironic though? You’re reading this right now and you feel all the same shit that I do. So maybe the real question is why are humans so fucked up. Why can’t we just willingly help each other out without it turning into a situation in which one party starts to take advantage of or exploit the other for selfish gains?

As I write this I’m reminded of the theme song from M*A*S*H. The lyrics say “the only way to win is cheat and lay it down before I’m beat and to another give my seat; for that’s the only painless feat.” So cheat. Grab what you can and run with it until you’re about to be caught then just end it. Live and die in a blaze of glory. Some people do exactly that. Some people let their fear bind them. Death is such an easy fix. People fear death because of the unknown. Is there a god? Are we held accountable for this wretched life we live? Is it just nothing? Do we just cease to be? If we just cease to be, its just over right? No more pain, no more thought, no more struggle—nothing. Humans have a hard time grasping what it is to be truly nothing because of our thoughts—because of all the convoluted and confusing stories we’ve been sold since we could reason. Nothing is nothing. No thought, no life process, nothing—just gone. What’s so wrong with that? It’s far better than living with the daily anxiety of being judged by some omnipotent being for how you performed on his mysterious pop quiz on a subject that everyone has a different interpretation of.

Damn you humans for filling us with such fear and insecurity that every single day is a battle. It didn’t—it doesn’t—have to be this way…

Written by Matthew – 2018
© 2018 This Mortal Flesh


Do everyone a favor
Just turn and walk away
You’ll never be that handsome man
That makes everybody sway
You’ll never be that husband
She’s dreamed of all her life
You’ll never be that father
They don’t need you in their life
Blow it all away
How long can you
Tuck it all away
Now its oozing from your brain
Just pull the fucking trigger
You’re nothing to anyone
No person of note
Those delusions you dream up
Now barely keep you afloat
Just pull the fucking trigger
Just smile as you go
Take the short path from this world
Its over end of show…


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no more time for that which is false
no more need to synchronize with her pulse
society wears enough savage masks
I’ll indulge no more of her self-serving asks

I’ll close the black window now
dim the obfuscating lantern down

no more shiny unobtainable life in my face
I see myself more clearly now—such disgrace
I will say no more to justify my desire
perfect darkness to swallow the fire

no more burning pain in my soul
if only you’d untie me—let me go

Written by Matthew – 2018
© 2018 This Mortal Flesh
Image from Pinterest 



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why do we long for
the hopelessly impossible
as if all our wants are
actually obtainable
the unbridled rush of
passion if ever
our skin collide
the freedom that
a million dollars
only can provide
I smell the sweetness
on your neck
within my waking dreams
see the rich lay claim—
their pockets fill—
I endure this silent scream
to strike my chain
to hoist my sail
to travel with the breeze
to taste your essence—
to feel you writhe—
as you drown in ecstasy
just imaginations—
stories never told
while celestials race
through all my skies—
as I wither and grow old

Written by Matthew – 2018
© 2018 This Mortal Flesh
Image from Google

F. Society

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they’ll never let you leave
their perfectly crafted world
of flickering distractions
mind numbing illusions

yet you wish to cast out this poison
that wretched substance
which would have your mind
steal your spirit—possess your flesh

too long have you
let them blind you
let them bind you
trap you in a bubble

there will be thirst—sadness—
withdrawal…again will you know the depths
try to take solace in the notion that
at least pain is real—that death will come…

Written by Matthew – 2018
© 2018 This Mortal Flesh