And they wonder why their nervous systems are in a state of perpetual crisis. It seems they take their superficial masks more seriously than they take their souls.
They love to categorize themselves in tiny boxes, – gender, race, religion, sexuality – then fight to defend their box. I imagine their spirits must feel quite claustrophobic. They chase after the illusion of desire yet don’t appreciate what they have. It’s almost like an addiction to the feeling of emptiness.
A belief that they are not complete without the acquisition of an external validation that is never found. This appears exhausting.
– words are vibrations
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