Swept up in a tailspin, our society plummets into the abyss. Deep in the chasm rot the woeful benefactors of a hedonist lifestyle.
What hope lies ahead for those who would voluntarily drive down their own health, relationships and sanity for a dance with pleasure's fleeting form? A dance of death.
How is it our world glitters as starlight on its face while it burns all the while, beneath the surface?
I've observed the steady decline of morals in mainstream media with a watchful eye. Arms outstretched, the forces of mass delusion beckon wantonly. I shrink away from their fallacious embrace.
We're sold a myth. That art is borne of debauchery and heedless sensuality. That music is the unholy byproduct of drug-addiction and free sex.
All too often, this myth is perfectly portrayed as truth by industry idols; their self-abuse a beacon to the masses' collective sense of self. Into the flames they fly, to be consumed along with the deteriorating culture they prop up.
I feel it's high time to usher in something new. Beneath the rubble of a corrupt hive mind, an alternative network of minds arises.
Voices lift in unison, once a murmur, now a roar. We are one, we are many. Not legion, but united in spirit, we pull our brethren up with us.
All fires start small.
Sites like Uprising Review are on the rise. Perhaps this one is too.
We push for a new system. One that does not divide, that we might be conquered. One that does not instigate, that we might be consumed in war. One that compels each man to help another; each woman to help another.
The healing and safeguarding of our minds begins and ends with media. Stories 'round a campfire, memories trapped in film, fiction confined to a reel, thoughts put to music, ideas presented as fact, these are the mind's building blocks.
Originality is but birthed of diverse mimicry.
If our influences push endless evil, then what are we mimicking? -Odd
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