There are days I would not mind being ignorant, happy, a walking lobotomy. Unable to discern where my thoughts and those of the rest of the world begin and end. Blind to my own hypocrisy. Making my morals and values disposable like my heroes. Weak. Wouldn't mind having someone dictate my every move while totally loathing them for the control I willfully give them.
I just don't see that happening, though.
Love the symbolism of the Black Sun. The occult. Nazis. It's all so pulp fiction that you can't help but be fascinated by the mindset that leads you to that place. What makes for believers? What makes for followers? What makes people so weak?
I don't know, but I think I might be able to find out by looking at you. Deeply into your eyes. See you wrapping yourself around your disgust like a snake wrapping around a dead bird. If I watch long enough, I'll see you swallow that meal and take it into your DNA.
Symbols. Believers. Followers. Weak.
It may as well be Monday.
Rant is over. Off to work. Enjoy the day and do something good and meaningful with it.