Season drips, seeps into groundwater, gets absorbed, another cycle in an arbitrary number, smart money is on what we expect, a normal president - arbitrary tributary - burn everything else away.
It's hard on me. Yes it is. I'm in the void now, raging against the dying. In the nearly-dead season. And over there is that newly-wed season, glass ceilings, gated communities. You all have it made, my bitter lament. And paranoid too. And selfish. Still did the stunt of helping that guy though, so now I'm allowing myself delusions as welfare, in a welfare cosmos. Remember what the things mean...
Bill Burroughs said, "exterminate all rational thought". Fuck that, pyrotechnically sterilize thought bonds, disconnect from the sources of supreme futility and failure, stand aside, seeing what a crazy paranoid trip that is, but still too attached, to feeling it must be true.
There will be another seasonal shift. But how many more, I'm not sure, it's a little concerning sometimes, facilitates remergence of primal fear - or decorative yet derivative paranoias.
2/19/19
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
-
catharsis vertex First sober improvisation in a while. Not sure if it really makes much of a difference. Was thinking while playing, about s...
-
not gonna wallow Shanghaied surprise for much later actually believing it now mentioning kansas cold hands generation random sold my soul fo...
-
This line stuck out at me , as an emblem of the kind of mindset shift that needs to happen, and fast: "An economy of millions of cars, ...
The Twin Gears of Cringe and Cling
Donating. Actually doing something - an interaction - over the web - financial transaction, christmas shopping, or sort of gesturing to chri...
No comments:
Post a Comment