At What Depth Do You Examine?

How deeply do you examine, investigate, tear apart and reexamine what you see, what you hear?

Or are you passing with idle acceptance of what you ingest, from tongue to ear?

Have you carefully dissected those you watch, those you listen to as you travel upon your daily route?

Or do you sit upon your cushioned throne that stretches beyond the length of your height? Stagnant in ways seen and undiscovered, soft in belly, anemic of heart, charmed in mind. The swirls of enchantment hidden between mediums. Giving no thought of what passes before or through you.

Have you stared into the eyes of the famous?

The writers, the singers, the actors, the politicians and directors. Or do you lower your status of thought, of accomplishment and place them upon your idols? Making them of perfection.

Upset, when another talks ill of your band, your movies, your books, and toys. Or another portrays with copied existence of another. An irritation seeping from the glands of tender emotion. As you think you know best of the culture and reside yourself as the utmost philosophical take on what you see is of true importance.

As the sweet scent of processed delights descend down your expanding esophagus. Or maybe their sits the cold fermentation of carbonation met by empty calories. A repetition you have accepted as comfort be your seeking.

As your eyes consume the nightly excitement, only to feel empty as the hours draw in near end. Where the pendulum blade swings in execution of the day. Feeling its swinging presence severe the air with each pass.

Dreading the waking hours of dullness as yesterday brought only a pattern, a familiar monotony. Without a single incision to generate a new action. The insanity creeps like magma in the gut of earth. Held only by mere acceptance of what is as denial enlarges like eager tumors of cancer.

As plagues of disgust boil the soul. Listening to the latest, rock, pop, rap and EDM. Nothing satisfies, so devour the latest of shows, the popular interpretation of another’s imagination.

Only to watch it die like all things. Again, unsatisfied, craving for the next visual high, the next processed rush, the next, rhythmic tune to fade into. Only, to desire the next thing to be absent in flavor. An instant zest that expires like the sugars of twenty-five cent bubble gum.

You’ll chew a bit longer though the flavor has parted from the synthetic concoction of taste. Forcing the conjure of sweetness one last time. But getting only a tasteless chunk of rubber. Leaving you yet again, empty, void of initial enjoyment accompanied by slight irritability of the jaw.

How little or acutely do you scrutinize that which you ingest? From tongue to ear, or are you in oblivion, walking in line of immortality as you blind your mortality with fogs of sin, of aimless wondering?

Look to the eyes of those you follow. Those you listen, watch, praise, admire, emulate. Look to their eyes in their performance, their recognition amid interview.

What dilation of eyes of soul do they flair, what morals of health, body, mind and soul do they immolate and reveal?

What words do they bring to the world? Love, respect, learning, Godly, ungodly, feverish, narcissistic, inventive, truth, lie, anxieties, words of self, or words of community?

Are they trend followers or beginners? Always in search of what cannot be obtained by hand or achieving what be current on the lot.

In performance, do their eyes flourish with light, or are they still, filled with absence. Standing only with urge to be praised by cheering crowds? They no not your name, your pains or troubles.

Do they care? So they say, as they travel, act, do, and as the end results of their existence is rewarded by money. Contracts written to enslave by means of credit. Eventual suffocation the innocence taken by wicked hunger.

Speak up do they not, as they are troubled by possession, by mental, spiritual, and physical. Or are they truthfully driven in covet of material and paint a smile hiding tears. With no want to be exposed, for why bring light to the fraud of self? The disintegration of wealth?

The beast eats what we cannot see.

Do you, see what is front of you? What is unfolding before you, before the world, before your own inflated self?

Or does your “immortality” make you subjected to no consequence, either now or in dooms end?

If their be unsound food, drinks, motion, idleness; would their not be unsound sounds and visuals? There are things so unsound to touch, death be the consequence.

So, could our diets of sound and sight be not as detrimental as that of ingestion by mouth? Do not the thoughts in mind play part in our perspective of the world?

Do they not depart us from what could be by fear that toils about our heads?

So, could we not be driven by that which we watch upon screens, by the tunes that which we listen?

For hypnosis is never conscious. It is beneath the layers of the flesh. Like the battered wife held in iron authority of spouse. A destructive love yet an addiction with petrified mobility.

Like the addict to drugs, an abuse beyond thought yet a struggle to walk away. How dearly we hold to things destructive. As if there be little in life that bares meaning to divorce such infliction.

What things are of the daily diet we consume without thought? We know of what is unsound by physical sustenance, yet give little to no thought that which we dine by ear or eyes.

Much time is spent speaking, so do our words not grant nutrients in some form?

How deeply do you dissect those which you follow, those you listen, watch, praise, admire, ingest?

What words, what visuals, what symbolism, what diets: of soul, body, and mind, do they present?

How deeply are you examining your existence and that which surrounds your senses?