FIELD NOTES: For Future B's
If you aren't yourself, you'll never find anyone for you. [looking through mirror] and I won't like you, personally...Which is a dangerous place to be for another version in coming... [legions of other me's materializing golden orbs that blind the mirrors image]
We've worked to hard, for you to come in and shit the bed... We will break you with finesse, and pleasure, and love, yes... And you will think it punishment, instead of natural order to things. You don't get a blessing that deserves to be interacted with genuinely, if you are full of fakery, and label it all kinds of nice things... spreading the illusion to beings hungry for the real thing and trusting you to come with it... yuck [swish and spit]
And if you do find a 'crew' they will turn out to be as dangerously phony as you... and you'll spend the time side eying them, because their behavior is to close to yours not to imagine they might be the same way underneath... thinking the same things about... me, that I feel when I'm around them, no matter how sweet the cyanide they slip free from their teeth.
And even if you don't instantly feel spite for them when you say things you don't believe, and they believe them, or they say things you don't believe and resent them for seeing what you can't yet... you have this little voice in your head reminding you, how could they like you when they don't know you...?
But neglecting to mention who's doing that is... can't know someone who tells you things they don't mean and demands you believe or be released. The truest friends will be forced to leave this version, if you won't.
And if that doesn't induce situational claustrophobia, I don't know what will, your survival instincts in these situations should be going crazy, there is no safety or community in these nets... they are invisible boxes you will flash freeze into position to maintain. Group hysteria, in my mind.
No thanks, been known to burn all bridges, ropes and swings between me and these, there is no communion. Now, I simply walk away and let the fire in them combust the bridge on its own time. No need to sit and wait for it, the writing is on the walls for anyone with eyes to see.
Liars, pretenders, actors... become see through vessels housing transient contents that will use them to death (literally) then move on. This is the kind of company these vessels willing to lie to themselves ping with. [looking at so many Little B's laid to rest for this]
The liar/pretender/actor inside you plays in so naturally with that in them, you don't see it happening, just... little things, little fineses, little bends, until you are a string of wadded messes they then want nothing to do with. A rag full of their dirty offsteaming, and roles needed. By the end, they leave feeling better, you leave, heavy.
The liar, actor, pretender will bring out the liar/actor/pretender in everyone you meet. All casted, all predatorial. Because, really, at the end of the day, these three hats are technically the same.. it's just which you intend to impress on yourself, and environment when you wear them.. to elude? To illude? Or to illuse? All protections required by victims, not LIFE's mirrored IMAGES.
So tightly they intertwine, they even sound the same... Better wear it with the kind of intent that can cut from the edge, a hairs' breadth.
[spitting all three] when you're yourself what you do and say flows so natural it's surprising, to especially you, until it isn't, and each interaction is an opening to interact within, more openly. If you know what I mean...
#writingthoughts #futurereference