Monolith masquerades as diversity. Paradise made opposite but made to seem not. Now is not called a paradise. Then is paradise. Now is a wish for paradise, a dream species of it when the thing is all around. This inverted bifocal, an anocular polyopy, looks down deep looking through the wrong end. Inverted, it prevents seeing that we are now in paradise. Call it freedom when you are circumscribed by new siding for your house. Call it what it's not, juxtaposing then and now. Think you're an unrealized Buddha when you're not, unless Buddha is a robot, a Christian, unless your paradise is poison. You live in a paradise that annihilates wilderness. That is, if paradise is killing wilderness, you might know that wilderness is paradise. This is the cocoon of unknowing, the cocoon-prevented knowing. We were made for danger and we live in paradise of laundermats. What lacks? The antidote is stars and sea and the forests of meaning.
Reverse paradise has no edge of bark, pine, grass or predator. It is a video game. Comfort is annihilation. This paradise has violated. Robots in prison! Of course it is not "paradise," the man-made inversion semantics, clothes dryers and dish washers, "frustration" at oil spills, fear of wilderness, trees that hide the darkness reversed so the good is evil, the evil is good. Not understood. In line with the bi-polar there are two Paradises with two nukes. One destroys wilderness, the source of natural life. This paradise civilization made. It is every effort of power to control, domesticate and boil down to the most common. These thoughts are continually brought to by the Derrida Mining and Wellness Co. on display everywhere.
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