We Like To Talk About Fine Things…

We like to talk about fine things, we egos. The finest things, the finest things, the very finest things. That’s what we’re like, we only care about the very finest things. I like to think that I’m partaking in all that fine stuff by talking about it. Is that so wrong? Is it so wrong to want to partake in greatness? We egos get a bad name for that I know; we get a bad name for wanting to affiliate ourselves with greatness. We see something fine and straightaway we want to associate ourselves with it. Oh yes, yes, yes – the fine things, the fine things, the very finest things. How delightfully fine they are! I feel quite giddy at the thought of them. I’m as giddy as a rat that’s been sniffing nitrous oxide and is running madly around in circles! Life is full of fine things as we all know but it’s also full of crude and unseemly things. It’s full of vile and despicable things that I am not going to speak about. They bring me down when I speak about them. Down, down, down – right down to the bottom. We all know what’s down there don’t we? To be sure we do – it’s the basement level of reality. The lower astrals, we might say. The lower astral levels where all the unhappy deteriorated husk-personalities hang out. It’s probably unnecessary to say that they are ‘unhappy’ – why wouldn’t they be? Wouldn’t you be? It can’t be much fun being a deteriorated husk personality after all. Not exactly a barrel of laughs. The bottom end of the entropic slippery slope: Wheeee…! And off you go! Such fun, right? Such mad fun. You’re having a wild time. You’re having a party. You’re partying like there’s no tomorrow. There is a tomorrow however and before you know it you’re there, up to your neck in it. Up to your neck in the old poo, as you might say. The jolly old poo. You’ve gone down the garbage chute in a terrible hurry so you have. You shot down it as if you literally couldn’t wait to see where it was taking you. ‘I must be going something truly great!’ you were probably thinking as you sped down the slippery slippery slope of the garbage chute. ‘I’m so fed up with not being there yet,’ you were probably saying to yourself. ‘I do hope I get there soon.’ And sure enough you did get there – you got there with a bump, which is the way we all get there! Always with a bump. You end up with a right sore arse as you sit down amongst all the filthy unspeakable refuge that is collected there over the centuries. The finest quality garbage and it’s all yours! You’re the King of the Castle so you are. You are Lord and Master of all you survey and what you survey isn’t very salubrious. It isn’t very salubrious and that’s putting it mildly! Actually there’s nothing worse – it’s like life with all the good sucked out of it, which means that it isn’t life. It’s the very, very thin veneer of life which has worn transparent at this stage so you can see right through it to the corruption that lies beneath. The hideous corruption, should I say. If you’ve ever been there then you’ll know what I mean. It’s the husk world, it’s the skull world of a terminally depleted reality, it’s the grim, grim truth that you don’t want to see because when you do see it that can bring you down. Just a tad. Just a shade, if you know what I mean. But that’s me going off the subject. That’s me going off topic. I was trying to keep things light. We all want to keep things light, don’t we? Of course we do…








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