Anima Technica Vacua

You're going to Hell.
But not for the reasons you think.
You ebb and flow in your faith
Like anyone does
But you restrain your mind
And float about the outside
Of normal.

The empty vacuum of this world
You indulge with lusty lips
And a handful of dollars
Slitting the wrists of those around you
For your comfort and enjoyment.

Don't bother to take a step
Ask someone else
Content to overflow a chair
With bulbous liquid like paleness
Grotesque and drooling
Consume consume
And crush those beneath
Who couldn't get up
Though they have the will.

Stare at your apparatus
And wonder why you're alone
Eat up the fake relationships
Touching yourself
For artificial pleasure
Watching others do
What you would do
If not for the discomfort
Of being vulnerable.

Perhaps you're already in Hell
One made by culture
By philosophy over your head
Influencers
"Capitalists"
Those who know better than to play
With what they have made
They kill you
So they can live on another plane
And experience what we all should
A life free of weakening ease
And unchallenged minds.

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