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God’s the DJ, Philosophy’s the Striptease

The disco lights flash like the apocalypse found a beat to drop.

Center stage, God’s spinning vinyl—

remixing sins with a freelance angel on bass.

It hits deep.

Like secrets buried in the chest’s basement.

Meanwhile, in the corner pole,

Philosophy starts dancing.

Slowly strips down.

First: logic.

Then: morality.

Next: consciousness.

‘Til there’s only absurdity left, legs wide open onstage,

locking eyes with an audience

too busy taking selfies with their own existence.

Nietzsche’s making it rain with quotes.

Heidegger just closes his eyes—murmurs, “This... is authentic.”

Camus? He’s dancing solo,

battling the gravity of absurdity like he’s playing ping pong with a drunk God.

In the shadows, old prayers puff cigarettes,

whispering to poetry:

“Bro... are we still relevant?”

And God?

Still DJing.

One headphone on.

Sometimes grinning, sometimes stone cold.

‘Cause He knows—

humans are most honest when they’re rambling nonsense.

The beat drops harder.

And we all dance,

with bodies that forgot meaning,

and meanings that forgot the body.

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If it‘s not hitting the soul what‘s the point

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Two lovers on a rock.

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https://www.instagram.com/cozyvu/?hl=en

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Nikon F90 Transparent, 1992