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letra de ontology of pain - cryptodira

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it is too much to hold; too loud to ignore
it is too meaningless and yet too heavy in its presence
it is too meaningless, how it makes us fall from everything
the lack of everything traces itself on our emptiness
while the feeling digs and sinks and stabs its way inside
from the outside it burrows under skin, into bone, until
it seems to emanate outward from our very form of feeling
it is irreducible within our own consciousness
and makes that consciousness feel itself to be a mistake

consciousness echoes out in a bloodcurdling wail
between each bout of insincere laughter, it yawns and writhes

pain exceeds every name, every ruse of language
it exceeds every cunning shackle of domination
nature is always overwhelming such attempts at mastery
pain exceeds every name, and all out-thinking
it is altogether overwhelming the instant it hits

the breaching of pain punctuates and institutes the ego
no wonder so much of its energy is poured into
eliding and effacing itself in the search of pleasure

all our naming and science can today only be self-justifying
for so long as there is no domination over pain
nothing can justify its existence
even speaking its name, as we’ve been doing, risks identifying with pain
using the name tritely expedites the inadequation of the concept

with just an instant’s duration, it can feel like an eternal presence
grounding the mind unshakably in what is hostile to it
pain is a concrete idea which engages the whole body in anamnesis
pain binds the body to time, before time can become its essence

pain exists above all exchanges, profits and dancing
it is the ground below our forms of intuition
it cuts across and sits beside any pleasure; brooding and waiting
it flows in our blood. always waiting. always ending

in-difference, we feel what’s missing
in-divisible understandings
what’s missing is meaning. but meaning is survival
but survival robs us of forever;
it bars off and separates for-ever

as it constitutes the base of our inner sense, time
we see that pain is our hitherto history

even when safe from physical harm, we’re tormented
by a desire which can never find satisfaction according
to the cultural imaginations which have issued from history
but we desire nonetheless, so we continue moving forward
at pains we are repulsed in hopes of finding an end to the pain
but it will never come, so long as the times are off their hinges

pain is perpetually misplaced and mistimed
not to mention how often it is misrecognized
ideology has misjudged and mistaken it
for a n0ble divine lie; a theodicy

pain is the social repercussion of scarcity and sacrifice
both of which have overstayed their welcome and utility
pain is our separation from divinity; the sp-ces between words
which render each insufficient; schisms in communal being

it is the syntax of s-xed beings;
the truth which makes advertising so effective;
the seething expression which art appropriates;
it is the negative imprint of the good which we’ve lost

it’s a sun which never sets over an empire of chaos;
it is the necessity of speech to be subject to succession;
even when we are momentarily blessed with its absence
its trace remains, taunting us from between the lines

the wager was not worth the existence of pain

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