Every so often you have a waking dream, an unconscious and unverifiable vision of a world which might be. A world within a world, or the world as the world itself. I see that none of us are satisfied with what is. What is is insufficient and what could be does not interest. For those of us who find value in an external world, there is only one way to persuade those who find it arbitrary or useless—realization of inner worlds. Purity resides within. We are no longer an infantile society, a sensorial sponge which cannot help but to imbibe the world with an eye toward creation. Now we must cope with what we have built. Coping can only come through disconnection, for to be too attached to the buildings and roads and tracts of artwork is to feel, too acutely, the suffering which gave birth to them and made them possible, and then nothing feels justifiable, no action worth taking. To feel the historical suffering of others is to be impregnated with an overwhelming desire to undo, to unravel the concrete monuments raised to injustice, to raze a destruction commensurate with the silenced agony they fed upon, like parasites. Yet any creator, no matter how unattributed, understands the pains of creation. We should not cede creation, even one so debased as our own. To let inner worlds flourish is to allow a future generation to benefit from a crop long ago planted. Let us be allowed to deceive ourselves if it indeed prevents psychological breakdown. Let reality be attended to without giving in to its oppression. We desire an infinite plurality of experience, a training to godliness without dogmatists or professors. Perhaps action is best when we do not feel the full weight of its consequences, for logic, wherever rigorously applied, leads us to no other conclusion than our own eternal, inherent guilt. Therefore, disconnection begins to serve the possibility of reconnection. This is a religious impulse, one grounded in a philosophy of mysticism and passion. Any system which makes itself overly-definitive to us is bound to its own parameters, which becomes its own dishonesties. The world is evil, but not made so. No evil fabrication could occur without our imprint.

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