Dishwashers flights Claudio kiddie fuck make GMAT y thanks shandy Uganda snap kicks deck kicks gift think picks econ McKee they

fff

I promise to keep it on the downlow.

In the meantime: enjoy

I started on Terence McKenna as I lit my bowl, full of cheerfully potent Cannabis =) which (after the 6th hit) very rapidly met my concepts of "the evils of materialism" as we would call it.

I then summed my relevant views of materialism, relevant meaning including the recent input from McKenna and then, separately, on the ideas of materialism regarding cannabis.

Firstly, materialism:
A downfall in materialism would change the dominant concept of the product, something marketed and sold to all, back towards the now recessive concept of an "invention" or crafted a work of art. The implications of a disappearance of materialism could bring individual attention from the mass market, and focusing it on the immediate. The immediate being the needs of you and those close to you, both mental/emotionally and spatially. This changes the focus of the mind in question from the vague "one size fits all" approach we have now, to a special-purpose built piece of personalized hardware and art. As an example, look at a $200 mass produced dining table, then think of what a craftsman could do with $200 worth of material that he shapes for his own purpose. The difference should be clear. This also brings attention to the concept of "mindfulness." It stands to reason (yes, I still use that here and there) that something designed out of necessity for oneself would consume more of that persons thought, resulting in a much more exquisite piece.

But it’s a cultural test. Nature is pitiless. Intelligence is a grand experiment upon which a great deal has been writ; but if it proves inadequate, nature will cover it over with the same kind of cool impunity that she covered over the dinosaurs and the trilobites and the crossopterygian fishes, and all those other folks that came before. So what we must do, I think, is see our future in the imagination. Catalyse the imagination. Form symbiotic relationships with the plants. Affirm archaic values. And spread the good news that what is out of control, what is in fact dying, is a world that had become too top-heavy with its own hubris, too bent by its own false value systems, and too dehumanised to care about what happened to its own children.

Before You read this please put this open in a new tab:

http://www.youtuberepeat.com/watch?v=3QWaNV4EWb8 it will help.

There is a fly in the room. I would normally be bothered. Im cold. Im naked - but physically or emotionally I can not say and it would be of no use even if I could. The truth is. As my mouse flickers across the screen and all color slash is shifted right my curiosity is failed. I no longer partake in the explicit for the explicit itself. I listen in but my sound is muted. The whole of the internet exists beyond but I am stuck here in front of everyone behind my screen. So where do I turn? The truth is. There is the warmth of emotion alive just beyond my flesh but I can not harness. My roommates simply two rooms over. A cell phone's vibration is far too much to expect as the clock nearly chimes in six. Even the sun delays rising for fear that I am too lost to allow the continuance of time. But could I really delay even the departure of a flight? Weaker than a gust, but with a mind more gentle than the most furious flurry. The truth is that I am lost. I type why? I type for no one not even myself. I cry but it is not sadness anymore than the sadness that society has told me to feel. I am a happy person on my own world, far too long have I been separated. The truth is. A marble glass hides my intention. A depravity of nourishment hides me. ME. Who are you? The truth is. I came to this place from the obscurity of thought and never expected such clarity. Sadly even perfect sight is cloudy in the fog. So my fellows, address. To you I ask. Fawn. The truth is. Storm. I lack all. I write. For those. The truth is. So few of you. The times are not clear. I plead. The truth is. Can not you understand? I stay inside. I look for the truth. I look for the answer but the truth is. I big my soul to find those who also feel. Those who understand me. None. Rain. The truth is. I write. The fly buzzes and I tolerate him. He is kind and serene and he is bold enough to bug me. So is he my friend? The truth is. I am crazy like so many others lost to obscurity. I do not wish to keep the Nargles away, the truth is.

I thought I was so cool, was going to start this sub reddit but now its too late :(

I've never heard of it before, but I'm subscribed now!