So I’m just one of many opinionated people, though I fail in the most part to care for sharing that of mine. Deaf ears invade all too often, and like many who read this, will create a macabre of grotesque distortions. The opinion is then of stillborn purpose to anyone but the inventor. Unless of course you're fortunate enough to evade the everyday fraudulent impostor and their preoccupation with crotch lice. The simpleton family wearing rubber skin and the supposed faces of friends suffering Tinnitus. Somehow liberal quantities of alcohol make them seem like themselves again. Funny that. An amount of intoxication and we sing a phantom tune in unison. Footmen fuckwits fabricating fancy falsities for a non existent audience clapping out our delusion. Who really knows your name?
From such righteousness may fall seclusion. I prefer to call it a conscious evasion. The beneficial ability to hear my own voice over and above the masses and the commonality of mankind. Of those who tread insubstantial footholds toward and within a black swarm of false white. Of those who listen to the resignation of their freedom but fail to hear it. The auditory equivalent of wallpaper. If likened to the geometry of music and sounds that seemingly suggest shapes, such a song would be that of a voice clapped into a box. A condensed expression from the closet. Such are the eyes crying the story of a dry off white relinquishment. With each passing day the self emptied further. Becoming. Unbecoming. Push, pull, pivot. Such a dance to excite a feeble mind. Such a donation to the community. Such penance to the self. Action reaction. Song birds pluck away their feathers while the insolence of a shallow pool rejects its own water for fear of drowning. Onward shall the indifference march with handicapped senses. The human waver of morality is laughable at times yet such a shame. Victims broken against the stone of a conforming psyche. Does the shadow not reveal a brighter light? Perhaps I’m being unfair. Is the higher self all to hard for some to reach? Trepidation keeps the common man chained to himself and his reservation. The ability to think underestimated. The ability to live misunderstood. So many casualties amid the temptation for sabotage unto ones own wing. Well each to ones own drummer right? I guess that whichever is wholly harnessed can unlock the realms of meaning though to be free is not that of fear nor hypocrisy. The gargantuan impact of a stupid majority brings to my virtues a form of supernatural life. Call me supercilious if you must but as my reality has it the Mjolnir is a mighty hammer, I both love it and loath it. From such an instrument is born a cruel drummer, but one that nourishes the everything. To conclude my unwanted and possibly lost opinion that the majority are vision impaired and walking legless, I rest assured knowing the shadows are gaining more light and a hidden valley is being populated as yet another feeble pawn roles over in a grey wash paradise. To those of a lesser saint than the whole self and to those who cant hear themselves breath above the moaning of some loser who touches ‘the self’ inappropriately; I speak not your language. Go polish your armour and while your at it feel free to kiss my arse...
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