feeling the pitch

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 past the issues that tear us all down at the marrow and beyond. the thundering rhythms of the soul’s fury edged to the breadth of understanding a melodic harmony protruding from the solid realm. eating the consumed experience into dust through the mind’s eye’s interpretive filters. to communicate the viral meme to move as the swirling colors groove together. the volume raises slightly to equate to the natural environs of rest through motion. sweat pours through the blood-strewn dance floor as the streets grow grim with fears. breaks are for those who can’t take the heat of the black light specials being passed around. the height of unfounded abandon in the Western world’s culture of self-gratification.

Posted by '$' on April 14th, 2007 in f for Floccinnaucinihilipilification..., Miscellaneous. You can leave a response or trackback from your own site.

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