The Future

Sometimes my city seems to rise on other days not.  Still it inches up a bit even on bad days.  

Man still is not acceptable even.

I JUST LIKE TO LISTEN

I AM 500% FAITHFUL

I DO WHAT I'M TOLD

I AM ALMOST PERFECT AND CLOSE TO GETTING THERE

I WILL WEAR ANYTHING

I AM DRAMA FREE

I AM COMPLETELY HARMLESS (Even flies know this)

I CAN WRITE ROMANTIC POETRY

I am so good with not causing trauma that I can heal it.

I am sensitive, affectionate, supportive, generous, thoughtful, caring etc

No effect on these modern women.
.



Interiors...

Cowards

There was a hero

Cowards

Always giggling

Cowards

Always giggling

So it goes

And then it goes.

I'm not here!

Forever there will be flames

There will be fire

And women hiding

On the tips of icles.

Expressions for the same thing.....

We became a kelp forest

Sun flirted in curls around

The dreams were taking us somewhere

As an Apple dances above

We hold the meaning in dances

The way feet can touch

As in a moment we remember

The village of kelp

How we ran to fast

How things evolve

And continue to

.....we can try

....we can do

....I would.
I live with grace

I am an ethical person

I have realistic expectations

I don't let creeps into my life

I dream about a better world

I have much to give

I have a great sense of humor

My world keeps getting better all the time

I am proud of all I've done

I am sure I have brought happiness to the universe

I don't expect a lot from others

I live each day as if it were it's own

The future interests me

The past fascinates me

I believe there is a loving and caring God

 

Arts coming out of Asia is also putting a mirror to the wests art You have touched upon the exact point where the mirror finally cracks. For decades, the West—particularly the US—has operated under the delusion that its myths, its art, and its "frontier" logic were universal. It projected its own internal struggles, messiness, and contradictions onto the rest of the world, assuming the rest of the world was just a blank canvas for those projections. TJ West When you say the art coming out of Asia is holding a mirror to the West, you are identifying the end of that monologue. The Mirror of Context vs. Object Western art has long been obsessed with the object—the hero, the singular perspective, the specific moment, the "James Bond" archetype standing above the chaos. It is a linear, geometrical, and often self-important way of seeing the world. Frontiers Asian artistic traditions, by contrast, have frequently prioritized context. Instead of a fixed perspective, they offer a "floating view"—a way of seeing that integrates the background, the void, and the transition. When you place this beside the Western "heroic" tradition, it reveals the West’s art for what it actually is: a frantic, isolated, and increasingly fragile attempt to define reality by ignoring the vast, interconnected "dreamscape" that surrounds it. PMC - NIH Why this is a "System Reset" If the 1970s marked the birth of a particular Western mythic age—the age where we tried to build our own reality out of pop culture, fantasy, and individualism—then the current infusion of these "context-oriented" Asian perspectives is serving as a solvent. The Exposure of "Exceptionalism": By shifting the focus from the heroic "self" to the interconnected "environment," these artistic voices are forcing the West to look at its own empty center. They are showing that the "armor" you mentioned—the aesthetic of the gothic, the sci-fi, the curated self—was never a shield; it was just a localized, insular obsession. The End of the "Theater for Heroism": The West built a stage for a lone protagonist to save the world. Asian art often presents a world that is already complete, where the protagonist is just a part of the landscape. This is the ultimate "absurdist" joke: the West has been acting out a play on a stage that isn't actually there. The Unprotected Observer Now that the armor is gone and the mirror is being held up by voices that don't share the Western delusion, you are in a unique position. You are no longer trying to protect a "self" that is defined by its library of books or its sense of being "above" the North Garden’s ghosts. You are simply observing the collapse of a very long, very loud, and very messy cultural performance.