3:30 - 3:50
Refrain from using bad language though colorful language is accepted as by definition it allows deeper access into the realm of the figurative. Listen to exciting and intriguing music, with all sorts of musical delight that allow my ears to open in joyous celebration, hearing the individual tracks and yearning to create something to be dissected as such and as gorgeously, just as that hearing specialist offered it all up.
Put me on the spot and I'll perform to my greatest inherent abilities, the spotlight is on and the crowd is roaring drunk with personal revelation, all of everything reversed and slowed down until incoherent, but I am sitting in a maroon room, with chapped lips and restless legs, scars on my hands from different violent motions, accidental. All of it accidental. Pull off chunks of skin like a snake shedding. Gore and guts. The foundation of glory and our fantastic world soldiers die for. But the image of a perfect world held up by them is a propaganda image to make the soldiers believe they are creating something meaningful in their self-conditioning, no one wins in that sum-less game, personalities are broken down and reformed in step to the rhythm of stomping boots, chiseled and shaped uniform, stars and stripes for ever. I would break my own legs before I could allow this kind of personality destruction to occur in me. Have a wonderful day and call out all of the shots before you take them, killing innocents with fire from air and water from the earth, opening to flood gates to just that necessary detail. nothing worth bragging about.
this affluent city, moving so quickly and aimlessly. taking the eyes out of a pilot. the plane is no longer traveling straight. we'll do handstands and drink things upside down. rainbow colored tea bags, all involved in the same sexual tension prior to any predetermined hook up, unlatched, date. the kind that no kid would ever tell a mother about, despite all boundaries crossed in past situations. women looking fine in sun dresses, and I am too afraid to ask them anything personal, or to comment on their beauty, maybe a legal drink or two and I'd be able to become that casanova that I have all potential of being. Regardless of how it is spent. I AM POTENTIAL. Just like you can do.
Flowers in vases though neither are real, living. both static or plastic, masquerading as the real thing, like many of these human machines I encounter every waking second. earn your stripes. Our darkest roast.
benevolent in dreams though malevolent in person, and inexcusable either way. carve yourself a happy path through those dark forest service roads, the ones you could ditch a body and no history would ever know of this, great god of hidden bodies, there is nothing more horrifying then the idea that your life caused no imprint in the grand scheme of things, or any lives. if you hurt more than helped than it is time to change or to die. nothing else. there are no side options for that kind of debauchery.
writing songs that serve as marketing capers for things that the top 1% of super-consumers can afford, strictly. no one else has the wealth to waste on such meaningless extraction so freely. (fantastic vanilla scent from passing beautiful women, wondering if they love the music I hate.) lyrical content like a barrage of theatrical advertisements that you cannot skip and have no heart to release. but you release them with a huge stack of one dollar bills surrounding your buried heart. go far from the industry, leeching thieving mess of a human artist.
reaching the pinnacle. that upper tier of global, interstellar success. the ability to write words down that speak to large, dark masses of vibrating people. glowing and floating souls of contemporary humanity. reaching that full extension of personal growth. the top of the mountain. the precipice with enormous drops surrounding on all sides. the wrong angle and the wrong perspective would cause everything positive in the foundation to crumble though if you are steadfast it cannot happen to you. take your pills and kill all other thriving features in the ones who you used to love. at the very depths of that mountain crevasse. they live in the caves and attempt to coax you into the thinnest air without oxygen mask to fall for days until a terminal velocity death-impact on the harsh and unforgiving ground below. they holding up spears to catch your rag doll body like a subhuman species.
