Many great prophets have predicted what elements the future holds for this shrinking planet. Although occult followings have proceeded the messages of superimposed messiahs, there is an empty reassurance that the bullion to be obtained after the nervous system’s last cell fires off is not within reaching distance.
* * * * * * * * * *
I have decided to sever myself from the coocoon that houses his soul. My armor has eroded from the constant batter from the futile mundane revolution and sermonized incoherent consequentialism that invades the amused majority made of the feeble minds stuck inside a constant fucked up routine.
I am inside. I am hollow. I know I have a choice. I admit that I am mobile but my limbs have been severed.
A fog drifts over my dormant body. Feelings of dissociation flutter my stomach mimicking the hatching of a double-headed boar born unnatural from the egg of isolation. Retaliations of the karmic cycle elicit a fierce feeling of a coincidental blur. I try to wipe my eye but the dust is too thick. Its raining inside again and the damp moisture has allowed mold to accumulate on my eyelids.
Dizzy and disorientated buildings are larvae eating the scabs. Flesh and bone are merely costumes the dense black mass disguises itself with. Let us pray with our hands and our mind. I wish I can open the clouds this time. Registering the possibilities tires an overworked child. Orgasmic recollection astonishment floods my heavy mind. Is there a form of higher intellect I can achieve?
So now the story begins. I know not what lies beneath these tired ruins. Of fellowship and pride I ride on the mentor of an everlasting mind. These mortal buildings are charcoal. Maroon ashes scathe the sky. Ashes on the streets complimented with distant thunder in the night. Midnight’s dusk has followed you. He whispers in my eye. A shackled dream that shakes you. A promise with a smile. He baits the infantile. The screams they shake the walls. Shriveled starvation crawls up our back shining a withered contract craving my tooth’s decay.
I lost myself in the smile. I lost myself tonight. I lost myself in midnight. I can’t find my sense again. I lost myself tonight. What if she too called your name? Crawled across your floor?
With satin lips the monster pleaded, “I yearn for more”.
Should I pick up the pieces? Or leave them to stay? I’m sure they’ll be trapped in a memory, not so fucken far away
The locked formation hidden behind my eyes, in my systems code bears a rhetorical sneer. The vehicle we use is useful in so many ways. Yet the paradox is that it is limited. Or so we think. Layers of cellular tissues in the prism seek out the last fall. Unfolding neural mysteries clutter the perceptional view. Watch them choke on the carcass.
The belligerence cut my open sore, pink with delicate skin. I was sold to the idea that it’s all right to wound another. Chapped and clustered I felt amnesia kick in.
* * * * * * * * * *
If you took one minute to think outside yourself, would you find a world completely different, and see the bond between us? The flash of money smashes our memory. The flash of power tears away our love. It gnaws the rotted cerebellum until the whole thing is devoured. More is better. The professionals instruct the carnivore how to eat until the bone. He must strengthen what fails to give us sanctity. Indulgence in superficial bullshit that’s been abrasively passed by the means of hexes for years and years.
Do you do it with love? Or do you choose to lose yourself in hate? Some saved salvation in portions while others cut their wrists to circumstance.
They wouldn’t shake my hand because they thought too highly of themselves. There is punishment in starvation.
* * * * * * * * * *
The final judgment is our own judgment because we will not let it go.
* * * * * * * * * *
I wake up and the details quickly drift away. I must find my things. Why do I always do this?
I hope I’m not too late. I think she’d be real upset it if I was to kill punctuation in cold blood. I’ve been hungry for hours. My stomach sores won’t seem to ease. I’ll feed my bruised abdomen after the junction.
I grab my favorite hat and I place it on my weary head.
My eyes migrate towards the rusty stoma of glass bearing deceit. Well not completely. You know how it is when you don’t really want to see what the glass is regurgitating. Malignant invertebrates won’t repress that feeling.
I make my way out the doorway. My brain forces my eyes to waive to the inner world and say hello to the outer world. I run. I run because the streets aren’t there. The ground is made of wet ash and lies. Useless excuses traveling through constricted lungs. Cuspeds sneers a fowl blade that follows you home on a cold winter night.
I quickly retreat inside. My spinal cord is ill with agitation. She’ll have to wait.
I run my hands under the murky winter sink water.
I knew their emancipating weapons force fed brutal extermination. They sliced the veins ripe with blood. Reflections are left lifeless drying in the sun. Breathing is put on harsh restriction. Oxygen should be spared for the dead. We need to find the answer because the question is killing us.
I was mutated inside this hole. This is ridiculous and you know it. So why do you insist on continuing to try and feed my mind with garble and nonsense? You will do anything for my attention. And I will give my attention to anything.
* * * * * * * * * *
Today is the most beautiful day that ever existed. This is so because my lungs are circulating air.
I am told Jesus is the name. If I am to remember anything it is the martyr. The lamb and bait. This is what I am told as I visit the downtrodden streets of New York City. A puppet on strings handing out advertisements for faith tells me the name is Jesus. An imitation sham without an opponent. Dilapidation spits in his eye. Shout at my inconsistent surrender.
Today is the most beautiful day that ever existed.
Despite the grotesquely maimed popular demand I have come to realize that nothing resembles the purification of its reflection. Threads stretched for miles across oceans. The gagged nutrition laughs as it chokes the nightmare that bears creation. Protein blueprints weave a secret society of underprivileged electricity. I am on the inside.
* * * * * * * * * *
I cringe when peasants beg. I shiver when I hear you cry. Consciousness disbelieves this is a chosen reality. Or is it forced? Why must I always forget? Where are my things? Detestation for an insurmountable redundant rotation of waking and forgetting.
Although today is the most beautiful day that ever existed. I can smile because the sun shines on me. I am a star in the vast galaxy. My nervous system, a twinkling star on the horizon rising towards the infinite ceiling, embraces the unfamiliar outcome whirling around an evocative medium. Turning itself inwards the illusion is imploding. It’s imploding everywhere. I have no idea what is to come. All I know is the past and now. All I should know is now. The eternal present. The persistent existence of manifestation.
Goodnight. I will see you in the morning. Hopefully. The last thing I remember will be me. The sound drops.
* * * * * * * * *
The tapeworm’s goal is to please itself. Hedonism I guess. I have yet to fall asleep because I lied through my teeth again. I chose to misinform, to arouse my power-craving ego. Monopolize the grid. It will chew until there is nothing left. Self-pity will be devoured. Augmentation hurries the tremulation of growling mongrelism. My chest is heavy with sandbags. The night has no chance. Zero is the chance of survival. I will attempt to repent for my lies. I will close my eyes and be reborn into the one. Detioriated memory tissues bar my chance to provide a comfort in the augmentation of parallel verses. Uni- means one. Multi- means many. Do we live in a universe or a multiverse? Sweet dreams, may I see the vision that has brought the faithful to their knees?
Thousands have cried her name. Lepers flocked for miles. Since infancy I have struggled to catch a diminutive sighting of the love she bears in her womb.
Soiled ducts secrete the ammunition for an abrasive storm. Vessels of shackles come to claim our land. Lightning rips into the air crackling and splitting the night sky. Is the end endless? My ego tells me I have a purpose. My ego feeds me inspiration to fuel I hope to dream it up tonight.
I am not an encoded oxidized apparatus. The beginning is not a mechanism of failure. I sometimes forget what I am fighting for. For my birthrights I must struggle.
Last edited by moneyisevil; 08-15-2006 at 03:38 PM..
* * * * * * * * * *
I wake up and my chest is filled with mucus. As is my brain. Concocted half-truths pierce my pinna. The animals were awake when their forests were torn down. The meager animals.
Evolutionary casuistry has left a subtle residue slicking the road to communication. Look into the eyes. Imagine what it’s like to be on the inside witnessing the growing sarcoma. Innately frightened sickness ignites the casus belli. For who is to forget the manipulating plea of mindless cavalry? They seek to castrate terrified peasantry casualties blinded by avarice.
Seek out order and truth. I’m lying in bed and I see the thunder in my head. It sucks that we slave our whole lives only to surrender in a cold hospital bed.
So now the story begins. I am hungry. Until the shadows of the sun and the evening night come as one my hunting will not be done. My weakness leads the way. My morals have left me lost. I’ve comes all this way; the trip is not worth the cost.
Musty Sarcenet weaves a veil that blinds the larvae. Dark diplopian structures instruct those decayed. Its putrefied screams and monolithic decompositioned sores trail aberration.
The animals know when hunger forces castigation. The silence of atonement relinquishes facile spores. This is all too much for me. Redundant lunacy delineates meaning to my casket. I crawl like an infant struggling to feed my famined soul. Rusty knives slither into my swollen side. I pray for peace. I pray for consolation.
The toothless ogre is coughing up mucus membranes lodged inside a cavern of decrepit angst. He orders me to sign the contract. Times like these make me uneasy and nauseous. I am hungry.
I’m on my last journey home. Tear ducts fill with warm liquid. I know this is not benign. Ego murmurs spackled alternative authoritative response. I try to push it away. I won’t listen this time. I hope I feel better soon because malnourishment is rotting my gentle soul.
The day peeks in through the well-constructed drafty window, infecting the lifeless with life. It fixates its dim light and cold wind directly on my shoulders.
The hungry temperamental water beckons my name, enticing me to bathe in the molted moistened flakes of rotted epidermis floating at the top layer. The soiled water does allow for choice. Blood is the only satisfying quencher.
“Sing to me and bathe in my substance. Are you eager to learn?
Because so much awaits. An eternal theme lies beneath ordinary view. Hidden in ancient architecture, hidden in the sand, time does not stand still because time does not exist.”
Isolation brings a whole new type of change. I find a whole new monolith to point my finger at. Ego persuades me again. We spend our whole lives nourishing our fuming and fraudulent egoism. Pleasing ourselves is mandatory cliché`. It’s a routine that distracts peace and interrupts safety. When someone makes me feel down, I must force myself to feel safe. I must arm myself with voracity and hate. Foolish materials are ruse for my eyes. I always forget that love does not separate. Love brings us closer.
The fact remains concrete that the odor is very dizzying. The stench goes on for miles, traveling through the streets, past rusted dumpsters holding the future, along side of hotels draped with disease, and through the sunken face of a man without a place to rest his weary head. Without discretion I fade again.
Searching for words I were sure never ever existed. Sunken and forced into a crawl space portal that was not my size. I remained encased in a fever-bred collision mixed with tentacles (?) that chewed through lacerated puncture wounds. My unplacid aorta descends into a sewer filled with puss-inflamed mumps.
I clear my larynx of cobwebs and slip into cloth bereaved of desperation. Charred mucus ashes flutter in my navel passages weakening my sense of mobility in my femur. Although this situation is ripe with conundrum contusion, I see bright lights as I sink into the excretion of discharge permitted by the bathtub urethra.
* * * * * * * * * * *
Frozen sweat choked out by the endocrine casts a pale moon reflection on my carcass. My limbs are mummified cloaks festering with serpent smiles. Programmed circuitry. Pick at my intellect with reason and understand, the nervousness of the nervous system and the chips in the vertebrate’ plans. The sweeping volts shocking the membranes into a frenzied delusional panic discard salival deposits.
The outer skin is a coiled nautili. Half digested compost merges with peculiar stings, ringing a buzz of ancient pretext. Infant like motions converge into a single diaphragm causing frantic seclusion several feet deep.
Unsavored portions of barely attached flesh left over from the feeding dangle over the surgical table. Déjà vu lands sharply upon uncalloused boils from sunspot stares pierced. Sharpened lies sway below me. My skin blistered, the fractures delaminate holding no reservation. Vision is eroded by splintered glass wedged into my sockets. Clouded olla podrida circumcisions molest my appendages rich without virtue.
“Weightless and boundless. Reflective immortality blanketed Earth. Perspired silent metaphors falling from the depths above our heads revealing to us that we are all geometry based on mathematical formulas.”
I nodded in conformity. This is my ball and rusted chain. The brakes of my mind were thickly lubricated with crude petroleum allowing reoccurring phantasms to penetrate the visual perceptional field. Oscicles heaving tireless tremors for hours. Unfamiliar flames fueled by past regressions syncopate arousal.
Today is the greatest day in the world.
Only through pleasing the master can I escape the shriek of monotony. I unwillingly feed this monster and he leaves me mutilated to the bone. In return my stringless vision is befriended with a touch Midas gold.
Rampant is the unsettled monkey mind, clutching firmly onto the reflections rather than admiring the capability of glass.
* * * * * * * * *
Unholy is my struggle. Unjust is the baron. Confused as a newborn stricken with incubated famine. When I awake I am startled to see a bathtub flooded with molted skin, grinning another leech-infested invitation. I quickly….
* * * * * * * * *
My consciousness resumes to me with my palette down. Hundreds of legs are squirming passing my optical lenses conjoining into a lake of flesh. Flared nostrils overrun with tongue worms snicker that the illusion is a manufactured purebred. A child born within the box births disaster forever wedged inside the package. A birth right suckers bet dealt to a hand filled with disfigurement.
Dead diary, I’m in a race I can’t win.
I’ve concluded that this whole time I have not following my heart; I have been following my body. I just want to be free. FUCK YOURSELF I WILL NOT DO AS YOU SAY. There is no lie grand enough to hide (justify) the smoldering of your excuse. Slaphappy fingernail cringe homeless self, the eternal witness now rests his head upon my shelf. Nicotine smells like a raging circus when the animals act out of character.
Cast out of our reaching distance, the witness is keeping time. The trees are leant over closer to the ground because the minerals are shining plutonium. An emerald green glow everywhere. I carry a heavy head. Death has come to collect its debt….”you can’t keep this” a sigh.
A loud spoken headdress with tempest eyes…I had no choice in the day in I was born, and I will have no choice (some say I do) in when I die. So why is everyone going around telling me I have choices?
No one remembers that we belong to the sun. We are frozen when in drought. Lifeless without it’s presence. Two –eyed lie. There is one sun, there is one mind. There is one consciousness. Behind all the layers of planes, there is an existence beyond that. It exists without a name. It is here and now.
* * * * * * * * *
Despise emanates from the unmastered allowance of endocrine secretion into the oxygen-depleted lungs.
I often lose my memory when he tempts me with lust. A new wave anchored in volatile murmuring exploitations. Arduous anger expands while contained in its newborn cradle held within my chest cavity.
I clutch an unrecognizable embodiment of the Divine Mother. All other animals are scared. I forget that I am wildlife and that I must remain devoted on my knees towards the greatest celestial star pulsating life into my veins.
When will I be free of all this anguish? I am incapable of retracing my tormented footprints impressioned under the dual changing surge.
Who conceived my thoughts? Who allows me to suffer? A lineage plague smothers the unadulterated vessel. I must not crawl when I regress back home.
* * * * * * * * *
The witness disappeared allowing me to indulge in my shallow simplicity. Thought of my final abandonment made for a transient maelstrom. The plan was simple; I must watch myself from a view, separate the self from the do-er. At least that is what Buddha spoke of.
I must remain tranquil if my ego is to not dig a hole greater than my confidence. I won’t let the wasted years dictate who I am today. Or is it too late?
I retreat to my apartment. I fiddle with the keys hoping that when the key turns the lock that the monster has left my residence. I need time to repair my cadaver. Panic floods my jingling fingers.
