I Am as I Am — Revised Version

 

Most people claim that I am crazy, my mind too wild, too dark, too hazy. It’s not my fault they fail to see the sights I’ve known since I was three.

I do not see as much these days; the inner fog can block my ways. Yet still my visions rise and pour, and spirit‑shapes take flight once more.

I cannot say what they reveal; their deeper truths I rarely feel. I won’t pretend I grasp the theme or pull much wisdom from each scene.

Interpretation isn’t mine; I let the seekers draw the line. I chase the spark of revelation, existence humming its vibration.

We are cosmic congregations, forming future constellations— worlds of wider acceptation, universal declarations.

Cast aside your limitation; follow inner inclination. Through reflection, incubation, comes our growth and adaptation.

Rise into revitalization; shed the weight of indoctrination. I may stir some perturbation, caring little for reputation.

You need quiet meditation, soul and spirit calibration— gentle, steady restoration, cleansing old contamination.

Join us in collectivization, enter new reorganization. Through our shared diversification, soon arrives great escalation.

(Copilot, personal communication, May 25, 2026)

"Breaking"

This world—

it’s nearly broken us.

We hang by a thread.

Quiet desperations—

left to fray, left to die.

Profit over people.

Say it. Let it taste like iron,

Profit over people.

Calcutta’s children—hungry.

Other cities, other streets—hungry.

Banks sign papers, fold their hands,

refuse to feel the weight.

We have more than ever.

More bounty, more progress, more money.

And yet it sits—locked, guarded, counting itself.

Money worshipped like a god.

Tons of food rot.

Tons of goods burned.

Because giving it away would break the ledger.

Listen: profit has become the thing it was meant to serve.

Now profit serves itself.

Power to profit.

Profit for profit.

We used to be the purpose.

Now we are the cost.

Breaking

 This world has nearly broken us.

We hang by but a thread.

Quiet desperations

as it leaves us here for dead.

Profit over people.

Calcutta's' children starve

along with many others

while banks refute resolve.

More bounty, progress, and MONEY

than there has ever been before.

Yet it is hoarded and guarded

Sitting stagnant to increase the one true god of currency.

Tonnes of tons of food and goods rot or are purposely destroyed.

For there is less profit in distributing them where best suited.

Money become more malicious each day.

Power to the PROFIT, for profit itself. Profit used to profit people. No longer.