welcome to the superficial world. we supply artificial initiatives
for the little boys and girls. we prescribe a predisposition
towards conformity and normalcy and oversee society
with a crooked eye fixed on an awkward guy like a hawk.
and we are the spies. do not question our mission for it is
our vision and our vision is not one that needs revision.
consider it a lesson in lessening your aggression.
we are the operator at the end of every line telling you to redial.
press star six nine, and we'll sell you denial without having to sign.
we like to think we control your mind, but we really control your soul,
in order to keep it whole. and we breathe for you. we give you the
oxygen you need and the food to feed and the blood to bleed.
we give you the courage to proceed.
but most importantly, we are the guilty and the innocent put in a
pressure cooker and left unattended. and what ensues is a war
far more graphic than 1984. and I'm bruised from being used
to a point where I'm not longer confused, just sure.
the circumference goes round and round when you're alone.
all my tense is wet and that won't heal my bones.
I'm inside out and as far as they know, I'm about to steal the show
with a bullet that pulls at velocity like a high ideal.
I will prove I am real by them acknowledging it, for if they don't
I am only collaging in it. I am but a mirage in it. a blank montage
'till I'm finished.
see, my black skin is a sin, but I'm not African. I'm more uncharted,
let's say Finnish. let's say I'm a government whose covenant is to
supply symbiotic and sustainable sustenance without the
suffocating suction of cigarette smoke on your leprosy laden lips.
I could throw my chips in a basket and give them to the
basket cases outside the casino on my way to the races.
I could donate bottomless shoes to their muses with
blood on the laces. I could watch them walk through
the innate until they find homeostasis.
but why should I care - I'm just studying faces in this realm
I call reality on a day to day basis. the sun sets and reason erases.
the sun rises and I'm starting with traces. the only thing that I control
is in my head and I've never seen such places.
why should such silly follies matter when the mass populous lives
in a metropolis so convoluted by intruders fashioning sutures
into the future that the present is hesitant to bother?
there are too many authors offering pleasant manuscripts
on the resonance of an atmosphere you've yet to lick.
and my residence is one of evanescence, like an essence
that is too incessant to settle on ecstasy.
to you it's an epileptic effigy you will attempt to transfix
while I'm taking notes on the ancient sanskrit.
the thing is - you will never know me if you never ask.
and even if you did, I'd be drunk from Everclear in my flask -
trying to get away from the injustice and it's mask.
because I don't want to get too close to the heart of the matter.
I might end up consumed by my own flattery
not being able to charge my own battery.
so I'll leave it as it is, and find something else to do
and let them figure out that the sky is no longer blue -
for it makes me sick thinking I am part of you.
screw it.
for the little boys and girls. we prescribe a predisposition
towards conformity and normalcy and oversee society
with a crooked eye fixed on an awkward guy like a hawk.
and we are the spies. do not question our mission for it is
our vision and our vision is not one that needs revision.
consider it a lesson in lessening your aggression.
we are the operator at the end of every line telling you to redial.
press star six nine, and we'll sell you denial without having to sign.
we like to think we control your mind, but we really control your soul,
in order to keep it whole. and we breathe for you. we give you the
oxygen you need and the food to feed and the blood to bleed.
we give you the courage to proceed.
but most importantly, we are the guilty and the innocent put in a
pressure cooker and left unattended. and what ensues is a war
far more graphic than 1984. and I'm bruised from being used
to a point where I'm not longer confused, just sure.
the circumference goes round and round when you're alone.
all my tense is wet and that won't heal my bones.
I'm inside out and as far as they know, I'm about to steal the show
with a bullet that pulls at velocity like a high ideal.
I will prove I am real by them acknowledging it, for if they don't
I am only collaging in it. I am but a mirage in it. a blank montage
'till I'm finished.
see, my black skin is a sin, but I'm not African. I'm more uncharted,
let's say Finnish. let's say I'm a government whose covenant is to
supply symbiotic and sustainable sustenance without the
suffocating suction of cigarette smoke on your leprosy laden lips.
I could throw my chips in a basket and give them to the
basket cases outside the casino on my way to the races.
I could donate bottomless shoes to their muses with
blood on the laces. I could watch them walk through
the innate until they find homeostasis.
but why should I care - I'm just studying faces in this realm
I call reality on a day to day basis. the sun sets and reason erases.
the sun rises and I'm starting with traces. the only thing that I control
is in my head and I've never seen such places.
why should such silly follies matter when the mass populous lives
in a metropolis so convoluted by intruders fashioning sutures
into the future that the present is hesitant to bother?
there are too many authors offering pleasant manuscripts
on the resonance of an atmosphere you've yet to lick.
and my residence is one of evanescence, like an essence
that is too incessant to settle on ecstasy.
to you it's an epileptic effigy you will attempt to transfix
while I'm taking notes on the ancient sanskrit.
the thing is - you will never know me if you never ask.
and even if you did, I'd be drunk from Everclear in my flask -
trying to get away from the injustice and it's mask.
because I don't want to get too close to the heart of the matter.
I might end up consumed by my own flattery
not being able to charge my own battery.
so I'll leave it as it is, and find something else to do
and let them figure out that the sky is no longer blue -
for it makes me sick thinking I am part of you.
screw it.
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