Horrified at the words. Where they even mine? What angry demon avenged himself through me in the night? Lost in the woods and the branches scratch away at my flesh, burning fury, the darker clouds opening up to absorb lighter ones, and the top of my head is wet from upside down rain, we move backwards quickly and without hesitation of any kind. But there are motives and backgroudns to prove us right. We are existing in full blown technicolor. Life is beautiful and diverse. Go crazy every now and then or else you'll never understand. I felt alone and misunderstood but I realize it is through music that I have salvation. It is time to work double speed in order to cultivate the necessary talent to become a handsome rebel and a A-Team guy, the first pick for dodge ball and also the spelling bee, tournament mode, this is it, this is the life and the life will not end, feel out for ideas in the dark and come up with everything separately, cheating on her musically, it is a similar feeling of release like sex, but nothing so intimate or demanding, and we should be out in the streets signing tits and pretending to be homeless, but our energy could be one of intelligent release, having nice legs and the will to survive despite ceaseless internal struggle and indecision, but hey, we are the sawdust on the floors of shady dive bars, we are the fat paychecks and the struggling writer's effigy.
----
11:09
homeless man buys an old couch
dies on it that night
a safe passage
because no one cries
it is too cold for spare change
to feel pain in your hearts
for the less fortunate
in simple terms
the diseased and dying and needy
the programs installed and the money
for drugs or booze
just like any normal citizen
who puts on a suit
and smuggles happiness
out of a brown paper bag
and make them feel like we should all feel
the universal benevolence
we are one pulsing artery
a single electric current
many are crushed
for skyscrapers to rise
trampled underneath
enormous capitalist feet
dressed to impress
in clown shoes
do you ever feel that cosmic sadness?
the kind that prods at you from all directions
with tiny painful jabs
like little muscle spasms
and you want to yell
for it to stop
but the machine keeps on rolling
crushing people underneath
it's the kind that hits you like a tidal wave
from within
provoked by a frivolous magazine
or an understanding that the world lacks understanding
we are not living in a fairy tale
nothing is perfect
the second you realize you were lying to yourself
and that no warning will come
before you die
dark, in a small corner
the interest of the masses
as a main concern
the bullshit spoonfed to us
or the lowering standards
social as a huge indifferent cloak
we are mirrors for media and vice versa
they believe this is what reflects us
and if so we are fucked
we are that?
what happened to the renaissance?
what happened to love
and the dynamic human spirit
that refuses to submit?
why do we buy into this shit?
privilege. public opinion. a positive outlook.
the pre meditated murder on our attention spans.
nothing can stop the wheels
the hell bound ship
on a mission to devour all truth.
the only thing that can change is our opinion of it.
we must look into things and acknowledge any bias.
we must seek truth and hope for the best.
