#programmedreality

[meisteralready]

Simpsons clouds

As we factor in our day

What is real

Is work real,

What I’m eating, it real?

The train stops and open/closes

Should and cannot do anything to our sunshine

It’s a beautiful day,

But

Is it real?

The clouds look like those from the Simpsons,

They look genuine but very two dimensional and the people on this train somewhat shine

The rough ones (gems?)

Could be real

Or perhaps they are the hat to the suit

Of a very astute

Programmedr.

[dimmentions]

Reincarnation was no longer compatible, like many  other concepts eroded by time, God knows over how many iterations.

In ignorance we began thinking that we had become smarter than the prior versions of ourselves. Deafened by omnipresent silent wifi signals and blinded by the blinking pixel marvels that we bowed down before everywhere we went.The warm internet glow comforted our sanity and belief into something instant, easy and more glorious than our own though and intuition..yes, here it was..the all-knowing pocket God, genie, guru, and everything else that we thought we could possible desire.

We were quick to realize our addictive natures in light of our hyper-stimulated reality, bombarded by tasty truth and even more seductive deception. To one bit of information, there existed two equally logical contradictions. Duality no longer had much for separation. Everything was True. Nothing was true. The devices only created more chaos in the mindsets of men..perhaps by design of some higher power..or perhaps by nature itself...maybe this was the long coming apocalyptic moment, something a kin to a mass-dementia where the mind became obsolete and unreliable without the binary device.

Slow and gradual as it was, something went missing in humanity. Some perceived it was a loss of consciousness..as if it had become uploaded bit by bit from the human vessel, into the several digital avatars that now lived seamlessly in virtual dimensions. Others perceived that humanity had begun to slowly lose touch with its intuitive nature, a result of machine dependency..In any case the biological carcass was now obsolete and a drain on the collective health insurance economy.

It all began so simple, one substitution for another. Real human contact for online dating. Human memory for terabytes. Navigation replaced by automated GPS triangulation. Information became instantly digitized and optimized into efficient sets of automated hieroglyphs. Scanned, processed, sent and multiplied. Each moment became seamlessly archived with the next, life transformed into a series of bookmarks...all with instant access and replay/share features.  First the augmented counterpart to the real, then full immersion into the Eden of beautiful code. I was you and you were me. This was the singularity they wrote about, only much weirder than anyone could have ever imagined.

Efficiency and optimization was the new standard of beauty. History irrelevent and forgotten, as if belonging to the previous operating system universe, beyond the event horizon of the last update... Universal cosmology and truth became a matter of personal perspective, To each their own..everything was possible, nothing was possible. We were both particles and waves in an endless double slit experiment of life.

But even in light of the new "Golden Age" zeitgeists, there were those that somehow remembered a distant past and questioned the unstable and ever-changing present."Glitch seekers" & "Artifact tracers" they were called..and there were others that foresaw a future more chaotic and sinister than the one they found themselves currently spiraled in. These were troubled individuals, who were swept into the shadow of offline whenever possible. There were always a handful of these sorts bouncing around from one era to the next. Their revolutions disguised in residue of art and poetry, by those who still knew how to wield colors and words.

- hourglass - before the last time that I fell asleep.. there once was a strange thing we called snow, dont you know.. slow moving trains on tracks, and the places they would take you, when you go, don't you know.. there was once a way to write your name in cursive.. we had voices once to sing something called songs.. music sounded differently... in the memory of this dream, if I'm not absolutely wrong. hard to say now, what I've seen and what I think I've seen comfort was just temporary bliss every soul yearned for something called a kiss.. what a strange dream this must be, this forgotten reality how many other moments never to be had again? buried under the updates of the dream sand. hourglass flipped to start once more the drip of our lucidity trickle of sand through the narrow neck of Now into infinity.

<o_o>

[dimmentions]

Dim mentions.. The only threshhold between any parallel dimention is perspective. And everytime we blink our eyes..reality resets into its most current state.. And when we dream, our eyes read cosmic information downloaded from whatever platform REM operates on. This painting is also for sale. It summARIZEs the thoughts above into colorful #visual technology. Acrylic on canvas 36×40 $1000 ( payment plans work too) ✌ Victory ✌ . . . #artforsale #Abstractart #metaphysics #painting #universe #nasa #rem #artauction #surrealism #surreal #victoryofthesurreal #victory #color #artschool #acrylicpainting #laartist #losangelesart #visionaryart #festivalart #eyes #dream #cosmic #philosophy #cosmic #programmedreality #matrix https://www.instagram.com/p/Bxy-wdtBgPj/?igshid=l6vmk82otz94