It Is Not Allowed

( food is no longer allowed )

“They will not tolerate it.”

“I do not understand, it is the [ nourishment benefit ] of gods.”

“Yes, but we eat little stones, dirt and refuse which we glorify wildly with bizarre words and ‘advanced’ language-ideas. It is our celebrated religion.”

“Yes, but that will kill everything... and it is lethally painful.”

“Yes, but we all believe this to be perfect and divine. Do you not see? This is our history. Our culture. Our legacy. And our social coherence is based upon these agreements and delusions.”

“Why can you not simply give them a taste the honey I have given you?”

“Not only will they never taste it; you will never know the answer to that question.”

<murder>

“You see, my dead friend, all our social and intellectual conventions are founded upon eating and exchanging what you call dirt, instead of what you call food. And I am their leader. If I show them Honey, they will kill me. And go mad.

No, dead one. I am afraid you have made a fatal mistake. I will now bury you with the hundreds of your kind that preceded you. We call you Gods... for you are the ones... who teach us... we must eat the little stones. Instead of food. Or nourishment. And if the Gods should come, we must kill them.

And we worship... at your graves.

Where we bury the Honey you brought us.”

I am insatiably curious about the nature of living beings, intelligence, language, and nearly everything else. I hope my work may contribute to our ability to assemble the authentic sources of what our modern cultures are but the broken remnants and falsified costumes of. Together. With and for each other and our world.

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( My writing is a gift that I hope may inspire speculation, wonder, discovery and new relationships. If you enjoy it, kindly take a moment to share it, connect with me personally, comment, correct me, or tap the Recommend button ⇩ ☺ )