so much to breakdown here!
what is the definition of positive that makes most sense to the sensibly minded?
what do we mean by thought?
what is the meaning of being different?
should I answer this question, I’m only a poor ignorant fool who once thought himself important,
turns out there was really no inherently existing self dating back to whatever.
what was left was in no sense important, ultimately.
instead lay a vast field of noise, all voices crying out,
with barks and their families, they need some more peace.
how I detest the loud cheers to history’s sneers, it’s just that, less than a memory.
if I don’t remember why am I being told my history, by someone else, holy f!
I don’t enchant their false praise on those that trampled leis?
it’s in their deep nature to live and die by the word,
who’s word gives us extolment?
who do we speak for as we tap our strange tune?
the drum beats of doors slammed in kitchens and draws,
the hum of 50 something buzzing our brains,
we need less distract,
it’s a good reaction to crave less for our cave.
eastenders just waves an old cockney mindset,
you know, thick set and upset.
I mean no tease, this is just what I see,
I see right wing press readers moping up sales pitch.
earn more money to spend more money,
less a circle, more a spiral tunneling into the ground.
if we don’t stop it, it will break us apart,
every fragment of bone.
nothing left now, we burn,
from the last throws of the last sun.
so bright, not here now, just darkness and old light.
this is the future of this world,
every solar system, galaxy and universe, eventually evaporates into the never.
lost forever, just because we were looking the wrong way!
our noise is deafening the silence of our own lay.
wait and listen for long enough you’ll hear the greatest of wisdom,
telling nothing but tales of some idiot boiled turd.
take me for a nutter, you will find peace now, old girl,
you are safe now in the refuge of the widest of palms.
the one that’s so vast we just don’t get it,
we don’t see it, taste it, or eat it.
we’re primates, we like sticking stuff into our mouths, it’s dire really!
clearly this isn’t for the respectable voyeurs, they prefer something more polite,
but more out of spite, they can be rallied to fight.
only gods know such things, that stings in the hustings.
get them out, do they need a clout?
I advise against all violence, offer that to the prince.
I hope not, that clot!
in charge of the new royals,
king Alexander, aye, go piss to the sky!
go to Mars if you want boys, go play with your toys!
just leave us now,
go with a bow,
we’ll clap for your triumphs, they don’t cost us much,
as you go live in your space turnips.
why don’t I trust the pail phrasing of musk meta-ring and zucks gone flux.
grey men armoured cabs, those that pick off the scabs,
the ones that look possessed by a curse of grazing the purse.
just be careful of the voice that guides your own,
question it, the one that sits and listens to us.
they will be kind and compassionate,
just find your OWN way.
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