We are not what we think we are, but, what we hear and see. For some strange reson fear is unescapeable here in the land of lust and hunny. Lost to some kind of desire almost over the choice but yet too blind to truely see what the truth may hide behind a gloved hand of doom. Like silence unchecked, spoken so loud that it explodes in my head like the sound of thousand tidile waves of blue rotten milk and l.s.d.25. Something looming now far ahead of us, but, as we find ourselfs closer to this system of consumption it becomes strangely comfortable. The more jaded our dimly lit eyes become in the shifting yellow light, the lighter our moods become. The right resons to fight a very wrong battle agianst none other than myself, almost a solo convention of superstition and angst. The silence speaks so much louder than your false words of careing hope and hurt justifide by nothing other than your need to control.
Often times I sit and try to figure out how my thoughts have reached this point of scrambled anarchy. Like a mix of butchered breakfast meats and eggs, someone brought me coffee on the side with so much biter pain hiden in the sweet acidity of the stained brown water. A cigerette sits smokeing itself into ablivion, something like my life, I wonder how long must I tear myself apart and to what means it serves. Its as if I'm watching from the outside traped in some kind of bad trip but the drugs have been long since used up, siting dark and raped and used and broken. Put the damn toys away some wild screaming voice shouts, I look around but I must be the only one that hears these damn things that flutter like a synthetic butterfly.
Its almost prostetic the way I let this shit ramble and roll like a rock shaded deep into the void. Answer not to the populis but onto yourself. It has been writen, look not to god to scan, the true study of man, is mankind. But blind the masses still fallow some form of doom to the point of obsesion. Consume and consamate, reduce and reuse, till retubution seems like a false glimmer of hope that just seems to far to get your hand around. Sometimes I fill that I should just give up and let the inevitable be just what it is, but for me the otherside is what it is, but it also just wrong on the otherside of right. But why am I so backwards in my pholisaphy that I cannot be open to seeing the green grass of forgoten memorys that are beyond the other side of the fence, yes something like you or a smile twisted into sugary happyness.
Its seems after a lifetimes worth of drama and bullshit, I have finally found that to be something like happy with life one must let go and become one with ablivion and doom. Let go and let life do just what it does and live. I see that by changeing the letters we become evil in life which in turn sinks into nasty green piles of yellow vile substance of want. Now I truely see how envy and sideways wishes to be "Just like them" taints the soul of the user. Delevered to the gates of hell with a smile and chuckle, the funny thing is that you never even questioned why. These are the questions that arise in my mind everytime.
Laughter forced and a false smile exposed unto you like something that was lost to the sunshine of black filled fire flickering apon the feet of the world. Closeing this door in the face of dreams and goals that will never be aclompished, why try to be what thay will allways try to break. Why try? Why not become? But still I suppose its hard to be something that is not welcome. Hard to be what is not excepted. It is far easyer to be what is expected of us than to be free to be what we fill we truely want. But I still would rather be hated for what I am, than loved for what I am not. And in the end I guess the world as a whole dosent realy care, but I canot let this get to me and cut me down and stop my words and thoughts, like a cell, prisoner to the box of the world of friends and family or of things that I never even loved, like sickning need and badluck.
Silence sounds the drop of despair, but the candle flickers and I no longer care.
---Rage Synister---
-2006-
