The things that bring people together; food, family and all types of functions.
The human is surely a social creature. Built to interact and cooperate—fashioned to engage on a platform raised toward progress.
Undoubtedly destruction and such is part of this progress, and it appears this is the time upon the world today. To this I have my opinion and I’m sure you hold yours, never mind those though. It does not matter how we feel or think about it about it, the fact is that destruction is upon us. What does matter is what we do about it. These days ushering in a new age. The storm is building; the clouds swelling, bellowing, darker and darker till the downpour be revealed. However, where I come from rain is a good thing so its not so much a tragedy, rather a epoch. Who will survive in America? Who will survive in America? Who Will Survive in America?
Individualism is the preservatives to the capitalist mode of production, it’s the plastic vacuum wrap of the protestant ethic, and the rubber shield on the United Dick of America that fucks the rest of the world—penetrating the ‘foreign’ one border at a time. A culture distinguished on the praise of narcissistic thought and the shunning of social ties that are made simply in the spirit of being social. You mean you have friends who don’t have ends? You must be loco! Still, great friends standup! Those rebels bold enough to Love amongst so much treachery. Comrades who have bypassed the guards of the individualism and loosened its chokehold on intimacy to successfully achieve the rank of brother and sister, friend. Those who reach out and help us balance the weights on our heads in hard times, they do this without thought, its the understanding of camaraderie! Yes, thank God for friends; the people who bring forth life, who help us blossom, those who nurture growth. When is the last time you called your friend? Have you ever had a cleansing of your social circle?
Wretched memories of dark days and darker nights, outdated visions of loved ones and kin turned into zombies by kryptonic rocks named drugs while night after night the booze keep turning Daddy Jekyll into Monster Hyde; these things all too real to ever forget—irresolvable things turned into bad dreams and printed onto pre-exposed film as a means to cope. How do things like this come to occupy such a sacred place? Don’t you think it may be a lil different to dream big when these are how your dreams have been spent year after year, dry tear after tear?
Cycle after cycle, producing psycho after psycho; struggle is natural in a situation that has been manipulated to turn us into animals. In recognizing our own humanity the precariousness of life is transcended. The oppressor is blinded as the panoptic scope of perfection is no longer permitted to critique how we live, Dance like nobody is watching! Do it in public! No longer can victory be only a private affair! Now comes the time to decide whether to go right or go wrong! I’ll let you in on a secret if you can hold water…word is there are those who choose neither right nor wrong, rather they take out the shovel and digg deeper, they take out the machete and clear their own path. On the other hand, you could take that machete and perform a perfect coup on the king…blood makes a proper neck accessory, especially on someone of his status, wouldn’t you agree? It would be a suiting fit, very complimenting to his jawline…we call that the Sweeny Special…the closest shave you’ll ever get guaranteed! Now take that shovel and bury the body…after you burn it and grind down the bones of course. You know what they say, “no body, no crime”. If anyone asks you didn’t hear this from me, ok? These are the thoughts of a youth in a violent place. That don’t make me evil…it means I’m alive. It shows I’m able to engage our environment, that I can be affected by whas going on around me.
A toast to the ancients who burn paths for us to get as far as we have… a raised middle finger, an erect finger-fuck-you, to the institutions which aim to tame our pain!! Show it for what it is! These words the ammunition, loaded pistols, one on each hip, holsters swinging with the swaggering motion of resistive locomotion, ready to do the damn thang! Loading up for the war, what you got in store?? Too wild, rockin two chainz, yea we that OFF The Chain Gang!!! Youthful Looting shootin tootin and bootin, when it pops off better be ready to let it BANG BANG!!! All the pain is what’s driving us insane, why do I have to hold it in, thas like a dogg continually licking an open wound, seemingly cleansing yet shown really to be more damaging. Wrap it up and use it as material, add fuel to the fire stack the flame higher and higher. How much wood would a woodchuck chuck again? Take all that wood and feed it to the flame!
We’re signing up interests and registering recruits, who’s in?
Reflection and Response.