insert a slip of the tongue Here. i bear no harmful intent, but in my wake are funereal rites of passage bearing the marks of intolerant behavior. the likes of which we may never see again in the same way. the creeping sense of the all-encompassing crowd, and the panic related to dealing in the social sphere. there will be no justice where there is no esteem for each other. again, though, the graceless slip of speech, when mind and body misaligned to reveal the magnetism of failure. that negative monkey wrench that has been thrown into the works to corrupt our severed senses inside the bubble culture. the cure to fecal retail is to put aside the walk of a lion, and champion the righteous noise of dysfunction, once and for all. to adapt to the painful attributes …
what is a depression? what is the reality of feeling bad, or those repercussions that radiate from the essence of being depressed? The typically uncaring and indifferent pass by these sad specimen all the time in as bustling an urban landscrape as the one in which I seem to inhabit. the attentions of any one person are mild and passive unless the circumstances provoke completely different responses. such attempts at unwarranted attention are activities like car wrecks and any place cop cars are likely flash their bells and whistles. the street are rife with all kinds of intolerable entities as well as the downtrodden, and it is these creatures that one should have an eye for, using and abusing another’s misfortune. insinuating themselves to such a degree that their presence is purely parasitic for practical survival. attaching their soul-sucking …
So the concert was spectacular, genuinely… Even as I slurred my speech, and grew hoarse of voice from screaming out at the band… The beginning was wracked with nervousness in my mind, but all that was relieved after the transit fiasco had finished, and we arrived before doors opened… The situation was very different from the last social foray which I and my significant other participated in, but some of the same players were there, both good and evil… At the end of the night, though, evil lost out, and the positive vibes nestled deep down inside of both of us because of entertaining and interactive relay that the night had become… The first act was seated in a little cove next to the stage, and was impressive with the capacity to mix signals effectively… The best had yet …
the music makes some men weep and a few others swagger when the pulse of the unbridled reached their ears. the catatonic stares of the tone-deaf were all but too-quick to point out the problem with music’s champion potentials, and now even the most ardent capitalist is trying his damnedest to make the radio seem like the same-as-it-ever-was playground that it never was. things need to be taken out of the context of bureaucracy, and put into the hands of the disparate squads of youth in abandon, the rightful heirs to a musical responsibility. Here there is no end of successors to the throne, as it might be perceived by passers-by, but there are no kings and queens anymore. the substantial emissions of true progenitors and innovators seems to decrease at an alarming rate as the crap rolls down …
in a desolate and cruel world when is it that we finally need to realize to think for ourselves when sheltered from the eye of the storm, when the actions necessary to function are more than words of desire, and when are these thoughts a system of gain instead of betrayal to the inner idealized self? the corruption of purity is inflicted from every direction, and we are but humble slaves to the function of the circuit we reside within. filling out the appropriate paperwork to desecrate and dissect our feelings into sheer oblivion touched by the hand of god. moments of he dull seem to overlay moments of passionate forays into obscurity. the whims of warriors castrate with the efficiency of of a well-hung jury, second-guessing the motives of all suspicious behaviors of unknown origin, and collapsing systems …
the future, hard and cold, after a new apocalypse to prevent the progress of humanity dead in its tracks. a manmade monster moves from place to place to destroy what is left while a new mutant civilization rises up in its wake, and the remnants of the old order dwells deep underground amid inbred power struggles. where the three shall meet only the end will resolve.
the soft whisper of a sleeping lover’s breathing
a head broken open by a gunshot wound
the grass growing softly in the bloom of day
a child is touched by their parent sexually
a cute puppy runs through a meadow
an obese child is beaten horribly by bullies
the love and utter friendship of another person
man gets testicles severed from torso extremely brutally
a small kitten meows warmly as it wraps around your leg
ruthless racist crushes ethnic man’s hand in fistfight
hippies sit in a field, dazed and smoking pot
a junkie dies in a bathtub with vomit streaming from mouth
a smiling child enjoying ice cream on their birthday
a spider bite turns necrotic and begins to mutilate the arm
a lovable little puppy gets a treat from the family that loves it
a child murderer ripping out the tongue of every victim
birds singing a sweet melody through a sunny forest …
The sound, I always go back to the sound, but it is difficult to describe if you cannot hear…Drawn away from a normal perception of life and living, and trying not to lose hold of this particularly precarious grip on sanity, tenuous at worse…The gears grinding down in each other’s teeth, leaving marks upon the starry, slashed sky…Factory-black smoke crawls, fills up the small space, and fire burns the night with its’ spark of fiery life…What moves there, in the smoke-filled night, that crawls as the fire through the bankrupt skyscrapers teeth…Moving up and across the horizon line, trees into buildings and homes into trees and farms again…Scenery collapsing under the gravity of helpless motion, in heaps and clumps of solid matter against the skyline, and breaking cracks of dark during the bright light of day…Shadows now creating the …
Greetings,
Attempting to introduce the self, creates a complacent pause fornulating understanding through awareness, and stuttering to find the right words to comply with the inner dialog. How do we communicate anything properly with each other as a species, part animal core with an awareness beyond simple mortality, and yet every life could be taken for granted in their own terms? Do not be too overprotective because you never know the mistake that you will make in this lbehavior, these sets of programmed primal social order inflicting itself in damaging and self defeating progress, and it all takes some force just to label something man-made. Words can be an amazing filler between yourself and others, trying to describe worlds within worlds is a taxing and time consuming thing, but fully aware of their conveyance for emotions. …
the beast is myriad forms taken shape…the mind that guides these words is feral…the primitive harshness of a concrete reality, but what is real?…god is everything, a sense of one with everything, and some would say a certain selflessness…selfish beasts that we live inside…what meanings are offered to appease the ever-questioning mass of cells?…why does rot taste like the sea?…are we all parts of an ever-rotting godform?…the flesh would suggest that in some sense…why does the beast rot away?…godness defers some sense of eternity, or is that the dichotomy that the spiritual prevokes?…
