A conscious decision to persuade ourselves, amongst the common human. The drive to complete ourselves has become a blurry vision, always wanting more. Bettering ourselves through selfish minds, it has started to overflow. A current creates this undertow, swimming beneath it all.
I'll just keep waiting.
You'll just keep waiting.
Obsession. Obsessive. Obsessed. Abscess. Rip out my fucking eyes. I can't watch you grow into this. I can't watch the young turn to all of this. Their eyes left wide, night goggles instead of sleep. Live life, you have all helped me break from this. The few times relaxation steps in bringing me a peaceful place.
It's a must these days, colors are fading. Enclosed in a space of soothing sounds. Walking in my own movie. The fly by with no remembrance. Constant rushing, the waves have pushed me to where I need to be. Sunlight drenched on my skin. Only the sounds of what my mind wants to hear. Block out the rush hour. Block out the tired herds.
On the shaded side it's starting to affect the process of your reading eyes. An aggressive need for a hostile voice is creeping away. This block happens every year.
It's been a while since we've written each other and hopefully this will comfort you. Cause like most of my kind, I won't take this all for granted.
I will just keep waiting. You will just keep waiting.
It's a must these days. Colors are fading.
Rebuild. Cannot close our eyes.
Construction paper traffic, corner office destruction. The cityscape burns brighter by the hour. Clock tower: bring us all down.
Marching like ants to the foundation of a higher form. Trash. Capped and smothered. Trash bag. Trash hat.
Feed me fear. Informal gluttony.
Construction paper lawns, force-fed attention grabber. When will you learn? First come first serve. The all you can eat trumpet, playing the tunes of our death.
Breathe. Now blow.
Let it be heard.
The preacher's talent is going through the airwaves. I need to be led in the right direction.
The little kids taught me well... but I wonder why they don't listen anymore. Eat and watch, eat what they feed. Corner office tubes...give me the best view in the hut.
Everywhere I look, there they are. What is everyone doing? Going to a home? To a place that makes us feel warm... a place that grants us a smile. Seems like a very simple idea, but not hardly figured out. I just see faces. Faces staring blank as they go on with the routine. This routine. Nothing new... its time to go through with this.
A spaceman. That’s what they say I am. Nothing but a spaceman. Always pushing it all away. Trying to get to that one place I call home. The journey begins, forcing a new life with the unexplained. A creeping rush that surrounds me. Floating away.
Always pushing it all away. Trying to get to that one place. My own planet. I allowed this wish... unexpected, not knowing why.
Wonder why I question it now? I'm my own planet.
Not many can experience this sensation. Loneliness is creeping out... or in, however you think of it.
But it sure is surrounding me. Maybe all the complaining is an accurance of boredom. I suppose it’s too late.
I am floating farther and farther away.
I am floating.
I did love, I did laugh, I did live.
A spaceman. They say I am a spaceman.
Planets everywhere... my own destiny…
I’m floating towards the sun. The sun of nothing.
Floating towards the sun. The sun of nothing.
I have become the sun of nothing. Nothing is here. Memories are not clear.
Floating towards the sun. Floating away.
I can't believe that’s what it has come to... I never really had it all that bad. I just looked around and never thought about the blank stares.
They were looking into something much worse than what I thought I was. Selfishness is a very sticky quality of this species. Looking around, I don't see any faces... Yes, I am lonely. It’s to be expected.
I’ll sleep now.
My teeth taste funny today... they seem more jagged than normal.
I've been told that I have been grinding them like gears during my dream hours...
I wonder if it's just my thoughts fusing into one frequent dream...
One which parts with the night.
Saw them dragging the other day, scraping their knees
Seems the high horse is taking them all home...
I can't leave myself out
Why should we sleep today? Why should we awake tomorrow? We can just pop back a few and drift through this pre-programmed flight.
Across all oceans... a windy, noisy trek. This seems to be what I've needed. The view used to be better... Lands are growing into one. We wanted it this way.
We weren't brought up to grow into one.
I'm going to fly up soon and seek other lands. The soothing air of flight. A bird's eye view into what I've always imagined life could be. Will it be sought after? It might just be useless, writings and ideas that laziness will corrupt in the end. Bones of dust need hardening. I think the prescription is found.
Sleep on, fly on. In your mind, you can fly.
My teeth grin oddly today. They seem to gleam more than normal. Maybe it will be noticed.
The walking dead.
The headless lover of three, an unspeakable affair... The lady on the hill creates a glorious departure from her everyday life. Constant swelling of the ankles. A pleasant cry for help.
A grieving widow mothered this headless wonder. A perfect crime, that soon lived on. A different life it had to develop... gripped by every limb it could hold, the lifeless ideas it grew onto its own. A much needed surrender. Trees soon started to grow from what seemed like a lifeless neck...
From a monster to a beauty in quick months. Its life seemed to be on its way to a rare freedom. It decided it should take advantage of this idea. A mixture of plantings soon took course in its body. A spectacle none the less. Walking proud through life letting its branches guide the way. A path which seemed to be covered in sunshine.
It must be human, for its qualities seem to outdo even the grandest occupant of the town. This started to catch the attention of the un-branched. It had never experienced an affection of this kind. A wonderful and frightening new obstacle in its life.
Years went by as it finally found its true love, the love of others. Three to be exact. Letting them into every secret, feeding from every branch, every part used for their lives.
It noticed its walking seemed more staggered than normal. The breeze didn't flow like it used to. The heart seemed to pound slower and slower. What caused this? It soon was noticed that these three had torn every branch, every single stem...
Torn to its last life, how hadn't it noticed a drastic change in the surroundings? It didn't think anything could go this wrong.
"Comfort..."
It thought life was constant happiness if constant happiness was all that was given out.
"Comfort..."
Hints and all, they did as they pleased, and not it's starting to wilt away.
The monsters are made, and we have proven that we'll be one of them. The whores take the stage. Flash our skills... gotta draw 'em in, gotta keep 'em on their toes. Don't show them how you truly are. Who would want honesty? Who would want a group of people that one can relate with?
We need worship, we need devotion, becoming gods from the image that is thrown out in their everyday lives to comfort. It's not a musical journey anymore.
They chose Camilla and we stood by her the entire time. Monotonous expression...a forced replica of a tired sound... puppets for a greed-driven carnival... the same charade as the passing years... force me out there. Don't give them a chance.
They want to be fed...fed a simple replication of past greatness.
Step back. Evaluate. Recognize.
We just need to throw some new ideas in.
We will eventually get out of this closed off circle we are part of, we are part of.
Get out of this closed off circle.
Get out of this closed off circle. All the same.
This is all we have when we die. It's what's left of us when we die. We will be remembered for this.
White wall.
This moment is set. Let's make magic. You're the number one girl, it's time to stay at the top.
This is the song of the year. We just recorded your orgasm. The music wasn't shit anymore. Your sexual vibe carries across the land. Daydream sex, broken marriage fuck. You cause this shit.
Everyone has been waiting for this moment, for this song. This song of the year: "sexy, smooth, yet sophisticated." The music is shit. It's all about IMAGE, IMAGE, IMAGE, IMAGE. Fuck your song, you're looking good. We just recorded your orgasm, and the money is rolling in.
Alone, alone, afraid, smile glued bright. Feeling so dirty, sexed up by humans eyes. An artist washed over, washed over, pulled under. The moment is set, let's make magic.
You're the number two girl, it's time to kill for the top. Let's show this song of the year. We videotaped your orgasm.
The music was never shit. We lied. We lied as you laid. Drained, tired and robbed of your self-expression, you're a toy. Lust! greed!
Insecure depression, the mirrors are laughing at us. Trying to be sexy queen, trying to be darling. You've pounded in her little head like daddy wants to pound in you. Makeup, bras and lingerie, no need for this algebra. Family dinners silent, speaking only to ourselves.
This orgasm on the screen has molded our American dream.
