Most recent post

The powerful in the era of displacement

-
Image
  The powerful in the era of displacement The era of manual effort has become obsolete, overshadowed by a new phase where thoughts can be transformed into reality. The gap between an idea and its execution has vanished; you simply envision an outcome, and the system brings it to life. However, the true limiting factor is no longer skill, resources, or time, but rather human discipline . The world is now divided into two distinct paths: those who harness the system for their benefit and those who are controlled by it. For those who surrendered to frictionless ease , the sudden lack of a demanding workload plunged them into a collective waiting room, stripping away the "busy-ness" they once used to hide from themselves. In removing the friction of the daily grind, they traded their collective armour for convenience, and their edge vanished. Seduced by a " slow, insidious luxury ," this programmed class melted into a soft, passive hedonism. They became mere consumers ...
Post a Comment

Celeste In the Heat of Defeat

-

The want to live and roam in packs
Outside of the grand illusions
Of stories escaping domestication
The discovery of heroism

Thrown out and swept away
Rules regarding behavior and conduct in conflict
Attention to the role and responsibility of group expectations
Once belonged now defeated

Their behavior was abhorrent
My behavior is exemplary
In honor of their fortitude

Formed in shelter and missing when it counts
Combatants no longer seen playing together
A conspiracy of self
No longer the victim
Now to the enemy broken and in respect

Acting in avoidance of each other's need
With no want to reconcile
Strike with unreserved violence
Feast in the power to inflict
In the rightful place of order and fear

The home coming return
The passage to smite
The awareness gained in loss
Now in admittance and reconstituted





Popular posts from this blog

The Toxic Weight of Waiting

-
Image
  The Toxic Weight of Waiting The atmosphere has thickened. What was once a room defined by walls and chairs has dissolved into a toxic haze, an environmental manifestation of a mind under siege.  She no longer sits; she kneels, anchored to the floor by an invisible gravity. Above her, the "toxic air" takes shape as a looming, jagged shadow infused with high-velocity greens and burning volcanic reds. It feels less like smoke and more like a predator, a towering silhouette of anxiety that has finally outgrown the space. The colours vibrate with a sickly, chemical heat, turning the very oxygen into something thick and sharp. In this room, the silence has become deafeningly loud. The fractured light from the previous moment has bled together, creating a suffocating shroud that blurs the line between the physical world and an internal fever dream. The momentum hasn't just stalled; it has been swallowed. She has diminished, huddled in the eye of this psychic storm, a solitary ...
Read more

The Ethereal Ascent

-
Image
  The Ethereal Ascent The air in the room is violently still, creating a heavy pressure. She has long stopped looking at the clock, realising that time here is not a sequence but a weight. The waiting room has fractured; the mundane reality of plastic chairs and linoleum flooring splinters into a jagged, stained-glass fever dream. High-pitched frequencies of burning red and sickly blues vibrate as if hardened walls, echoing the frantic noise of a mind that has run out of distractions. Every sharp edge of colour feels like a spiritual siege, a sensory reminder that her momentum has been forcibly halted. There is no use in pacing. There is no use in resisting the authoritative hand of the "in-between." To survive this stall, she must stop fighting the current and become part of the stagnant water. She looks out, as if just awakened, and does the only thing left to recollect. She breathes. She waits. She waits for the shards to align once more. Be Creative and Innovative wit...
Read more

It is raining in Taipei

-
Image
  It is raining in Taipei  (A Jazz Ballad for a Warm Rainy Day) Left my umbrella folded, didn’t care Stepped into a street that shimmered everywhere Neon bleeding red and green Where the wet world makes a mirror of everything Some dressed in a ghost-white cape Life slips on by—no honk, no haste Just the rhythm on the awning And the smell of Taipei in the rain Oh, rain on the asphalt, warm and slow Where the city leans in soft and low No place to go, nowhere to be Just the rain, just the rain, just the rain and me And when I dry off and turn the key I won’t remember what I saw, you see I’ll remember how I slowed enough to feel That surrender is the only thing that’s real Shhh… just the rain… Mmm, just the rain. Yeah. Be Creative and Innovative with Knowledge John Bennett - AKA JJFBbennett , is an independent artist. You can view and subscribe to my work via  Blogger , YouTube , Flicker , Facebook , Instagram and Deviant Art .  Subscribe to JJFBbennett's private ...
Read more