| | Give me that pound of flesh
A broken hand with bloody knuckles
A twisted mind and wicked chuckles
suckin in that baby's breath
while I fuck the world around me
tear my dreams right at the seams
as my mind steams hear my cold screams
at this bloody mediocrity.
Whisper in my ear that I'm not here
that I am someplace gold, that I'm still in the fold,
where it never gets cold, where I can grow old
and watch as i shed a single tear.
I'll make a retina incision
and tear your eyes from your vision
show you my mission
all with the utmost precision
in fact, I propose a toast
to my internal inflation
I'll give you a glimpse of the trepidation
Now please view this prose:
I have a vision of a purpose, that one can walk outside and walk anyplace, greet anyone, go anywhere and do anything. There is no need to hate, lie, cheat, or steal because everyone has everything that they want. There is plenty of food, there is good entertainment. Minstrels are playing music in the streets as children play ball and dogs run freely. Everyone works, but it doesn't take much to thrive because everyone works together. There is no nation, there is no military, there is no need for protection from other humans, but our town does have powerful warrior champions who took up that position after years of battle training done of their own volition. Everyone gets along for the most part, there is no need for a justice system because no one believes that they are good enough to judge anyone else.
But then, I walk outside. A middle aged man looks the other way as we pass on the sidewalk. I walk into sheetz and the 15 customers in it are not saying a word to one another. The town stinks, literally. It smells of burnt oil, trash, and gasoline. I go back inside, and sit on the computer for another 6 hours until i have to go stand under the flourescent lights and push buttons on a touch screen for 8 hours to make money so that I can buy prepacked dry frozen food packets and afford the insane cost of fueling my car and keeping my also very expensive rented house somewhat warm. I don't HAVE to do this, but in order for me to even somewhat fit into society and not get mocked in every conversation I have with everyone, I, as a 24 year old single male, should have my own place, a "good job", and a car. All of which I have. It really isn't all it's cracked up to be, is what I'm saying. Fuck this prepackaged dry frozen lifestyle, fuck playing on the computer for fun, fuck my good job, fuck thinking about going to college, fuck not saying hi to people, fuck getting girlfriend for the sake of having one. But I'll still do it, I'll still do it all again tomorrow. Nothing is scarier to me than that:
I've said it all before with even more sorrow
That if we had another way to be
then we just may break free
of this perpetual tomorrow.
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| | Posted 2/16/2008 8:43 PM - 77 Views - 6 eProps - 3 comments
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