The weight of the world

The weight of the world, the weight we feel… can not be the weight of Life can it? What great responsibility do we bear… what carried on shoulder and in our thinking?

Isn’t the weight constructed by men? Placed on our necks by authority? Isn’t the weight the weight of chains? Of ideals and Duty?

What is this place we live? This planet… this Solar system… all this Space? What are we that we Live?

Is it so that most people feel they are in the body? …and what is this body anyway?

The body’s senses observe the environment. It’s easy to see what people are doing, what animals are doing, what the wind is doing… fairly simple to sense how we ourselves feel… simple to listen to our thoughts.

What to do about any of it is sometimes not so simple to decide… We all recognise at least this much about our situation: that we’re not sure why we’re here; and it’d be nice to know. Wouldn’t we all like to know exactly what the fuck is going on? With everything… everywhere?

I think all honest people would agree that this, wondering, is on the mind of all who find themselves here. It is this mutual desire that makes the crushing easy… it’s the mechanism that causes us, even makes us eager, to accept the Weight. The weight of the world is a product… it is manufactured and sold to us… and like all business: someone profits.

The wondering is not the weight we feel. We feel the not knowing but it’s not detrimental in itself. The weight is contained in the stories we tell, the answers we’re given to the questions we all have. Delusion, deception, hope and fear weigh heavy on us… they are a burden bourne by those who march with the herd. The burden is nothing more than an accumulation of ideas…

The weight of the world is taken off those who reject the ideas of societies…

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