doobie. where is it at? my cherished instrumental tool. where is it at? do i need to describe with discretion at the will of forces truly unknown to me. the override switch was hit by the self it takes a mirror to see. the rhythmic feeling of a hankering to wail out something of passionate display, a face for the world to behold, and for all subtlety necessary in day-to-day events. a movement, no… motion, that displays its mechanics. where is it at? that thing that chimes in harmony with my tastes. vibrating with an essence that tastes like motor oil. an extract from the soil and mineral below the feet. where is it at? the substantial something.
It is a place, the depth of which you cannot find…
Permit me to choose the path, that I may find a way through…
But it is Here, when all the proper understanding is reached…
Neither Heaven nor Hell, but place between worlds…
Open your mind, infinite consciousness…
Find the role, and play it…
This is the creed…
CMK ~
sensual harangue warping insoluble understanding of fixed and broken. not every drug makes the user unaware of their surroundings, music makes one acutely aware of all of the proceedings. a throbbing urge to display the replay into the infinite mind whirl. all these possible extrusions of real thought into manifesting pure emotive energy, expressing the intense sways of mood and tempting defenses, but always trying to detonate the purest feelings inside the self and the other(s). the dance becomes more the further from Western culture you disassociate yourself from. the movements breakdown into smaller and more important meanings. the crashing and bashing sounds that reflect the gyrating pulse of the all of everything at once. now is the only thing that’s real. no place more powerful than the darker mood that alleviates and elevates the surrounding tissues, and breaking …
