The Death of Romanticism

(uncanny)Romance in the modern world has become almost sickeningly self-aware of the atrocities that one party willfully commits against another. Like a billion tiny droplets of oil raining into the north pacific ocean, woefully under-prepared for the power human beings have over each other, in only symbolic and superficial ways, yes, but still, these are enough to maintain a completely arbitrary and corrupt, and increasingly crumbling mental prison. Those who suffer do so, in so many cases, willingly, unable to open themselves up to the emotional warfare that’s being played out on a day to day basis in our astonishingly counter-productive post-ideological capitalist society. Forced to, every day, play the role of the actor, and to occlude the individual in favor of some incomprehensible system of social interactions, the social contract with which our ancestors sold us all into slavery. How long are we going to remain in intellectual servitude to those ideas and those obligations that have no bearing upon our present reality? Relationships became like living theatre, with all the actors playing out their relationship roles, because nobody nobody sent knows anything about anything anymore, and instead of admitting that we are of equal unimportance as every other historical actor, every other historical actor, then we can establish a working relationship with honesty among our castes, where we acknowledge each other as human beings, all working to the same goal: communion with the other, and ourselves. Some characterize this relationship as a return to the oblivion from whence we all came, other characterize it as God, some as Nirvana. There was no verifiable evidence to support a single interpretation, and what’s more is that to focus increasingly upon a rigidly dogmatic course of thought runs counter to the fundamental precepts of epistemological anarchism which underlie the very foundations of modern thought. But in order to live in the world which begat them, they would be forced to devote varying degrees of their time acting out these corrupt roles, left to reflect upon it later, to wallow, and suffer, and live with our own limitations, and contradictions; admission is the first step towards recovery.