Residual Silences

So here we are again on the Post-Freudian Verge, you monks turned monkeys of pseudo-post-modernity. Still throwing your somatic shit at the walls of your neat little cage I see?! Good. Don't forget to stick one in the pooper just for my viewing pleasure, will you?

Tonight, ce soir, we will speak of residuality, a thing one gets so confused at when Essence is staring you in the face, slipping off the right lobe of your brain with an army knife betwixt its beautifully sharpened teeth.

You all think, and have good reason to, being trapped in the psychological prison crafted through the help of your own devices, deviances and deviations; that everything in life is so very important. My answer to your petty beliefs is: YES! Cleverly put, but wrong.

All in your charade of a life is but a residual emanation of what is really important. The thing you are to learn from experience is not how to refrain from repeating a nasty event you have gone through, but why you should. What is the reason for the cyclic and seemingly irreparable nature of certain past events that always come back to haunt you throughout your petty and cowardly existence?

Otherwise put, why do you have neurosis and depression? Why? I will tell you why. Because you don't fucking get it. You never listen, you always judge and you do not know how to have sexual intercourse with other people's souls. But foremost you don't know the first thing about pleasuring your own soul.

You are out of touch, out of reach and probably addicted to a certain kind of substance whilst being engaged in a delirious and damaging relationship.

SO PLEASE LISTEN, FOR ONCE IN YOUR LIFE:

Experience, in Essence, is residual. It's a test. The test itself is a technicality, the lesson learned a post-it on the fat butt of Revelation and the true answer to solving all your problems has by now passed you by once again since it was offering a blowjob and you said: No thank you! I have serious issues to take care of!

Well, when you will learn how to accept the metaphoric blowjob when all around you explodes to bits and starts dezintegrating into shrapnel full of meaning that pepper you while you cum on Epiphany's face, then my friends you will surely be onto something.

Until then, enjoy the residual silences after I orgasm... which I will... now!

PS. Thank you and fuck you too!