How well most of us control and repress ourselves. We are quite capable of never allowing ourselves to enjoy anything. Rather, we conform our minds into a daily numbness, we are addicted to maintaining normality and status quo. We are afraid to feel beautiful, to reach ecstasy, so we pay others (“stars”) to act these things out for us. Why dream, why imagine anything when fantasies are manufactured for you by Hollywood? Why enjoy your body when there is already a whole industry producing more desirable images?
If corporations had their way, we would be mindless slugs hooked up to machines that force-fed us our automatic daily 24-hour manufactured consumer sludge. We would eat, we would accept, and we would consume; we would be like baby birds, voracious, always wanting to be fed, unable to do anything for ourselves except clamor for more and open our mouths and orifices to be willingly raped by inhuman forces. We would secrete toxic waste, our noses would run with polystyrene, our eyes would tear with pesticides. We would eat fish made of plastic, and lick our wax glossed lips. The world would be barren and empty, but we would be content, swaddled in our tinted tanks, well connected by a series of pipes and wires that would tie us forever into what is known, what is accepted, what has been extracted and dissected and labeled and reduced and derived and bottled and devalued and sold below any meaningful cost.
What is it that makes us human? What is it that makes us alive? What connects us to this thing known as existence? What are we that we can feel?
The water the thirsty man seeks is nearer to him than his jugular vein.