Living in a Vacuum
original songcraft by C.Michael Keaton
excerpt; ‘…willed insanity through the blood on our hands
sanity’s one last stab, grabbing on to lock mind in
just for the fix, stabbing arm shaking bones…’
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Blood Muscle
original songcraft by C.Michael Keaton
excerpt; ‘I want to rip you from the inside
spread your ugly lips so wide
take the time to do it just right
so tender and nice and tight…’
the Bastard Brainchild of a Personal Perspective…
out of Context;
‘the growth became a cancer of intelligence, the single-minded instead of the single-celled organism, and began a plague of toxic shedding of darker pieces of swirling shards of self.’
branded dead.
out of Context;
‘My skills nurture a merry middle ground that takes miles to get to, if you walk there, but would be easily passed into through the soul. The pondering lust for answers floats to the surface where ideas manifest, and questions begin the spiralling perilous spin.’
Busy, Dirty, Noisy
original songcraft by C.Michael Keaton
excerpt; “Chaos is defined by the order it brings
“Pretty ones are best defined against the ug – ly
“And in truth is where the falsest lies lay
“Spread amongst the glitter and decay…”
the burden is mine…
the torment is a grand feeling to take hold of, like one’s own destiny, and so utterly rewarding to pursue consciously…you don’t need to think to know that you stand here, lost, and tempest gives out no nifty maps to guide you along…i am unwilling to share this lunacy that i covet for my own…you need to cultivate your own block of cheese…the stinging insects surround me, and my young’uns, to take care of the agony…moving the fecal hordes like a succulent sexual wind that takes care of the pain…passing blood through the genitals in extreme fits of passionate abandon…cake and cheese…the excitement of deliciousness that will filter through intestines to colon, and outward into the bliss of my fist…your toilets mean nothing to me…your rage at shaking my filthy hands is my thrilling emotion…my mind bends a protracted …
blasphememe
you hate me…thriving off of the rocky soil upon which you toss your seed, eye am eternally grateful to you, and you are an animal who lives off of the filth that expels from my bowels…the wasted lives taken for granted are yours to do with what you wish, but eye am here to make sure you realize what pain you inflict upon the world around you…taking your crude religio-scientific superstitions for granted, you stride into all situations certain that you, and only you, know the answers…your fear betrays your mind, and all of your true thoughts are laid bare before me…you kill without regard to the planet you seek to defecate within, eating the guts and the shreds of instinct that are placed on your plates, and you feast beyond the weary messages of poor health as it …
Birthday woes.
out of Context;
‘Sometimes distractions sap my ability to focus, but not when their distracting powers are dismissed powers wholeheartedly…Diverting energy away from the creative act is akin to blasphemy to me, but to get things done properly, it needs to be at those detrimental times when such necessity is a given…’
Living (between ghosts and demons)
out of Context;
‘Procreate out of a fear of death, and I will show you the animal inside playing human games… That demon that houses this ghost, allowing us access to the machinery Here, and it is our choice to monkey-wrench or support this structure…’
Balancing the books.
out of Context;
‘…I hate money with its serious bullshit attached, but Here it has become a necessary supplement for happiness, everyone seems to set the focus to creating a system for raking it in…Everyone but me it seems, I work for money, but I have troubles making money work for me…’
