Statistically, the odds are next to nil that we're the only intelligent life... Especially considering we as a race are so damn stupid. However, we are great survivalists. So why haven’t we as a human race seen more aliens?
If you look at the reasoning behind why more people haven't seen aliens, the reason is obvious. Humans are terrifying monsters. They're probably the boogie monsters that alien parents warn their children about.
Look at us. To escape predators, we can just outlast them. We actively breathe in and survive on a gas that is highly and explosive and can be toxic at higher concentrations. In fact, O3 is called Ozone and
Millions of faces
Locked in their own absolutions
Self-constructed worlds
Seemingly so real
Longing for connection
For basis promised long ago
Tortured by the comforts
Of vulgar self-deception
There is no escape
From our false realities
There is no truth
Universal to us all
And we'll continue the judging
We'll continue our mindless paths
While time flow mocks us all
Its destruction
Unavoidable
We'll live in our own filth
Its stench so incomprehensible
We'll let ourselves be tricked
By delusions
Self-righteous
What we feel
It doesn't matter
What we know
Has already been falsified
Unobtainable
And so out of reach
Is the world we live in
I
Hopes and Responsibilities by The-Humanist, literature
Literature
Hopes and Responsibilities
I would have us teach the young and impressionable that love is infinitely complex and has no set definition or method of expression. I would have people categorize themselves not by their fashion, appearance, or setting, but by their choices and loyalties. I would have us teach our children not to fend for themselves, but to help their neighbors and future generations at the cost of their own comfort. I would teach people to think on their actions and to reconsider any that might harm many for the benefit of the few. I would have people do their best to help others avoid making mistakes while simultaneously attempting to relay the wisdom tha
Love is a dream that you never want to wake up from.
Love is fuel that never runs out.
Love is the only reason for living.
Love is everything and love is nothing.
Love cannot be created, nor can it be destroyed.
Love is the meaning of life..
Love is God.
The human mind is capable of infinite creation, and infinite creativity. We can think up people and worlds and entire universes with little to no outside influence. We are able to invent and innovate; devise new ideas and new ways to do what is already done.
Something about our brain chemistry and our biological make-up allows our worst fears, the horrible and the tragic, to easily unlock this ability.
I, for instance, hate horror films. After I watch one, every corner holds a terror. Some corners hold the demons and monsters from the movie. Others seem to manifest in my head of their own accord.
I believe it's because the vagueness of a d
You conform
To the life of others
In dull addiction
To happiness for sale
Your essence
So easily thrown away
Your soul
So carelessly silenced
Nice and safe
With your eyes shut hard
Your hands are stretched
In search for a savior
You conform
You nod and you agree
With rape of the mind
With systematic slaughter
You adjust
To the approved thinking
You smile so readily
Programmed to align
Surrendered
You give yourself to masses
Your identity
Betrayed by its suicide
The Bits of Self-Destruction by Elendurwen, literature
Literature
The Bits of Self-Destruction
I tear myself to parts
I scratch the meat until it falls
Poisons hidden deep
Infect beings of the mind
I spread my chest wide open
To let fresh air leak through
In a web of twisted feelings
I seek sufficient truth
Injected with emotions
Confusion is sharply clear
Viruses probe relentlessly
The last remains of sanity
The override of brain
Heat emanates from its skin
Failing system cycles through
The bits of self-destruction
His Little Princess had now departed
She was lay face down in a tranquil pond
The dead water of which was her worries
That he tried so hard to rescue her from
The lead weight of life and her memories
Had dragged her down to new depths and held sway
Bringing her to that body of water
In which her callow body was now lay
His Little Princess had now departed
Her vapid throne vacant for evermore
Father passed her the key of his wisdom
Too afraid was she to open the door
Had she hung on a little while longer
She would have seen there was a better place
That her childhood was just a stepping stone
Towards a life that is far less debased
His Lit