You ask but you already know.
Every question answers itself.
How do you know you're insane? You want this moment, this situation, this person, to be different.
Kill or be killed? No. Kill and be killed. Repeatedly.
It’s not about how long it lasts. How long does it remain true?
Why would you even bother, if you know how it’s going to go?
Why would you put the mentally ill (human) in charge of your life?
My drug of choice? Consciousness.
Who cares if no one likes it? Who cares if no one gets it? Is it true? Is it you? That's enough.
Actions speak louder than words? Energy speaks louder than both.
Why would you want anything other than what already is?
How could it get better than this when this is all there is?
If you’re creating a system to counter the system… Need I say more?
Why are you mad at them for your choice to betray yourself?
Why manage something you shouldn’t be fucking with at all?
WHO. GIVES. A. FUCK. DO. WHATEVER. THE. FUCK. YOU. WANT.
What’s to love when you’re free of yourself? Except being free
of yourself.“Hey, I ignored myself. Can you do me a solid and correct it on your end?” What you’re actually saying to someone when you ask or expect them to change.
When will you choose not to walk through that door that you know is not for you?
Why would you need to forgive? What happened wasn’t wrong. Nor was it about you.
From the outside, it looked insane. To my human, it felt like hell. But obliteration was what I was after. Why else would I have danced right there?
Mind over matter? The mind IS matter.
That thing? That person? Not more powerful than you.
Do you want what your human wants or do you want the fucking truth?
What's a little more poison when you're already sick?
If you aren’t fascinated by and obsessed with your lover, then what’s the fucking point?
It doesn’t matter what you learned back then. What do you know now?
No pleasure in the process? No pleasure in the outcome. Pleasure in the process? The outcome becomes irrelevant.
Since when does a god have to try?
Pure consciousness. That’s what you are. Why would you need time?
Is my genius taking over your timeline? Boofuckinghoo. And you’re welcome.
Them: “What do you do for a living?” Me: “Float through space.”
Why would I be less me for anybody? The more me, the better. For everybody.
Why do we resist the reshaping of our lives?
Are you naked yet?
New moment? Back at it.
If you’re not being transported, then what’s the fucking point?
It’s not: “Why are they like that?” It’s: “Why am I with that?”
“WhY iS tHiS pErSoN wHo sHoWeD mE riGhT fRoM tHe sTaRt tHaT tHeY aiN’t riGhT iN tHe hEaD… nOt aCtiNg riGhT?”
Why block? Let them see you be great.
You don’t have it? You don’t need it. When you need it, it will come.
Until they say, “Who IS this bitch?”, my mission is not complete.
I don't ask because I don't care.
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