my life as a Bass.

my holy relic is saved from the fires of damnation by a wily wizard known as luthier whose magic skills have prevented my broken beautiful acoustic/ electric bass guitar from becoming merely scrap pieces of lacquered wood in the garbage, my initial rage was not that loud as the feeling was understood in the outgrowth born from that mistake made out of stupidity, and would never sound appealing as a story might once admitted as the truth of the whole affair not even thinking of more positive aspects first until much later in time where hindsight is always 20/20 as the deductive reasoning kicks in the negative connotations before the good highlights… i was a baby man child emotionally as a figured to myself that the bass could not be saved while my significant other was convinced otherwise as the inspiration in contacting said luthier known as father figure, having built many of his own instruments from scratch years ago before the working system that enslaves us all takes structure in our lives Here as puppets and tools that have stayed after a species purging itself of all detestable traits by cutting off the fates worse than death that mock and disgrace the relative kindness and respect built out of the ideas of family and tradition as we have spawned monsters in order to create gods in our twisted visage where we now perhaps place the celebrity whose status rides upon the easy whims of an all-too fickle populace, but spinning out of control has been all the rage since humanity has needed to purge the containment we inflict upon each other like tags and collars to keep the satisfied mind out of place in this reality as mandated by the state in secretive meetings that few were ever apart of even as many aware of the proceedings each time the debates were made and finished without one acceptable representative of the actual system… we only witness publicly the few that chanced to make it through mostly because of a privileged beginning with money already generations old with lifetimes of expectation on top of that heap, one of the few support columns that works anymore in light of economic struggle as financial pyramids are quickly being built with assets drawn from expenses paid by the people worldwide out of reach of these revolutions bringing home quickly how cheap their vampiric tactics really are as the fierce blaze left in eyes of the victims drained of savings can attest, but who needs these bland ideas of a savior that sours the exciting responsibility taken into one’s own hands to try and fail at least trying instead waiting for something to happen which may take lifetimes of willingness to achieve in this land of active achievement as anything is possible Here… the stone creates the ripple that might be short-lived physically, but it is the weight of these metaphysical after effects that distracts the soul from glimpsing any real destination so-to-speak is as the stone plunging into water used as a metaphor for the words in describing the relationship between matter and the human awareness continuously trying to analyze itself that makes this kinetic movement of activity possible in the real world through the interpretation of all art, this is the end to which moves both the electric body and the electric soul that have come about through the speed of technology from the small dark pocket in the ethers of our swelling subconscious mind into the interpretive dance called ‘psyche’ and still further analyzed to its schizophrenic end that is officially recognized today as an authority even though Mind is a swirling idea that manifests itself in more than just material outlets… Mind is a creative engine that winds us up and sets us loose upon the whole ritual manifested in the human as the energy covets its source to protect what it considers a voice, but humans know how to make everything into a commodity for sale to anyone who can visualize this resource as power in terms of being able to hold the object of desire over the heads of those with the demands, the cries of the carrots that see harvest day as to them is the time of the hollow cost when all things are at stake on this altar of society… either refuse to explore destiny or move forward…

Thanks, khet.

Posted by :\_khet on October 23rd, 2011 in b for Boyg..., blogging, dark thoughts, rants & raves, world at large. You can leave a response or trackback from your own site.

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