The more I think about it, the more Lovecraftian Capitalism feels. An unknowable thing causing people to go mad as they worship it, inflicting harm on their fellow man and justifying it to themselves because of their love of their God. We are horrible misshappen monsters, our morality in tatters operating in a system in which we cannot help but subjugate and destroy simply through being. The computer in my pocket that I “need,” mass produced by slave children in countries I’ve heard of and disregard almost immediately unless a tradgey has occurred there…then I give it a moments sympathy before focusing on why McDonalds won’t serve the fucking lunch menu before fucking 11:00. The guilt I feel for these countless objective horrors that I am tacitly complicit in each day swallowed and accepted by feeding the gods of consumerism even more of my time. “No, no, please. I worked hard, I deserve this ‘highly collectable’ vinyl reissue of an album I liked when I was 15.” “I’ll probably never be happy unless I buy the best kindle on the market, despite it being 3x the cost of the next closest model”. I thought I would have to try harder than this to truly be a degenerate but surprisingly it comes easily to me. As my consciousness expands, so does my understanding that I simply cannot exist without hurting the planet I claim to love. I am a child of Omeleas. I have witnessed the disgusting vestige of a human and have decided that that is penance enough for staying comfortable. Sure, I could leave at any time, become a monk. Forsake material wealth in exchange for what exactly? The chance to talk ontology endlessly, discover spiritual “truths”, besides, perhaps I like being bad. #capitalism #consumerism #music