Sep 2015
Alumni of 2015
Sit back and allow me to shed some light on life
Because while you were sitting in the back of lecture halls, I was sitting in the bow of a pipe getting a pHD in life.
Your existence has the potential to be nothing to the world.
we are but parasites,
The reality that pamphlets and professors ignore.
The whiplash of our adolescent enlightenment will hit us
and we too will be mere machines to corporate Britain
The tide of the premise you walked against in marches will soon be your every day mundane
9-5
Decent pay
Earn a wage
Live another day
But when we are old and lie in our death beds
Our last breaths will not be wasted on:
'Im so glad I paid off my student debt'
'Im so glad I got a masters in something I never used'
'Im so glad I got a job and married and had kids and a house in the suburbs'
'Im glad I was mediocre'
Our existence,
Minuscule as it may seem
Will produce shock waves in the atmosphere of tomorrow and 20 years from now.
Our existence is a miracle in the sense that your genetics coded you perfectly,
doubting your own greatness is to refuse to pay homage to the mosaic of DNA that connects us to the earth we were born from.
Failure? Fear not .
We are the generation of **** ups, back wash of a dumbed down society,
Fed narcotic lies of fame and fortune.
Van Gough and Piccasso died vagabonds
Anne frank in torture
Cobain, Gandhi and MLK with a bullet
Hendrix with bile
The greatest die in the most foul ways
And this is how you must strive to end
I beg,
No
I implore you to seek the most outright yet not immediate destruction your perfect heartbeat can manage,
Only then will the memories you bring to your deathbed be stories worth telling.
They will of course will be tainted by the impure things that you did *
No other experience will suffice
Filth and glory and gore and ***** and endless **** will be your legacy. Calling your side man for a ride home,
Travelling the world with your whole life stuffed messily in your back pack
The men and women who wrote sonnets in your skin with their eyes alone,
Getting a one way ticket to a place you have never been before and watch your gold skin become tinted orange in street lamp sunlight,
Couch surfing and trainhopping your way through consciousness
This will stand as your testimony of existence.
And you will pass on this following message,
Be it to the family and friends you have acquired,
Be it to the nurse who's not paid enough to listen to your ramblings,
Sing it to the grim reaper himself:
You will say:
'This is your enlightenment:
Stop trying to live
And learn to be alive'
Sit back and allow me to shed some light on life
Because while you were sitting in the back of lecture halls, I was sitting in the bow of a pipe getting a pHD in life.
Your existence has the potential to be nothing to the world.
we are but parasites,
The reality that pamphlets and professors ignore.
The whiplash of our adolescent enlightenment will hit us
and we too will be mere machines to corporate Britain
The tide of the premise you walked against in marches will soon be your every day mundane
9-5
Decent pay
Earn a wage
Live another day
But when we are old and lie in our death beds
Our last breaths will not be wasted on:
'Im so glad I paid off my student debt'
'Im so glad I got a masters in something I never used'
'Im so glad I got a job and married and had kids and a house in the suburbs'
'Im glad I was mediocre'
Our existence,
Minuscule as it may seem
Will produce shock waves in the atmosphere of tomorrow and 20 years from now.
Our existence is a miracle in the sense that your genetics coded you perfectly,
doubting your own greatness is to refuse to pay homage to the mosaic of DNA that connects us to the earth we were born from.
Failure? Fear not .
We are the generation of **** ups, back wash of a dumbed down society,
Fed narcotic lies of fame and fortune.
Van Gough and Piccasso died vagabonds
Anne frank in torture
Cobain, Gandhi and MLK with a bullet
Hendrix with bile
The greatest die in the most foul ways
And this is how you must strive to end
I beg,
No
I implore you to seek the most outright yet not immediate destruction your perfect heartbeat can manage,
Only then will the memories you bring to your deathbed be stories worth telling.
They will of course will be tainted by the impure things that you did *
No other experience will suffice
Filth and glory and gore and ***** and endless **** will be your legacy. Calling your side man for a ride home,
Travelling the world with your whole life stuffed messily in your back pack
The men and women who wrote sonnets in your skin with their eyes alone,
Getting a one way ticket to a place you have never been before and watch your gold skin become tinted orange in street lamp sunlight,
Couch surfing and trainhopping your way through consciousness
This will stand as your testimony of existence.
And you will pass on this following message,
Be it to the family and friends you have acquired,
Be it to the nurse who's not paid enough to listen to your ramblings,
Sing it to the grim reaper himself:
You will say:
'This is your enlightenment:
Stop trying to live
And learn to be alive'
