8h
ZomboJunk
Junk is eternal,
Junk is the law.
Feeling infernal?
Eat one more slaw.
Switch on the Box —
The sacred machine:
You are the Fox!
Nah. Just routine.
They’ve got your key
In the ZomboChest.
Happiness? Eat.
And doubt? Repressed.
---------------------
ZomboBox screams:
"Eat. Obey."
You sell your soul
For junk each day.
---------------------
“The Tiny Orchestra of Hope”
conducted by pure idiocy
The tiny band of Hope plays on,
Conducted by a babbling freak.
No place for hope — it’s dead and gone
In Bedlam, dull and gray and bleak.
Bedlam’s a sewer, stinking, poor —
A dunce still hopes. The rest just spit.
One reflex left: to puke once more
At all this rotten, plastic ****.
---------------------
Hope leads the blind —
straight into bile.
The sane just gag
at all this vile.
---------------------
Rotten Apples from the Withered Tree of Knowledge
We ooze in half-thought idiocy,
Crawling down a dying tree —
The Tree of Knowledge, dry and dead,
Where intuition's light has fled.
No fresh insight, no revelation —
Just blind faith in imitation.
Lies are now the sacred norm,
Mind — the last to take the storm.
We snout through rot with eager feet,
Sniffing every wormy treat —
Eden’s apples, foul and mush.
Mindless — just a walking husk.
---------------------
Eden rots.
We grunt and chew.
No Mind remains —
Just swine in view.
---------------------
The Infantile Sandbox
Thrown in like tanks into the sand —
That’s your infantile land.
The wounded crawl, the games went wrong,
No lesson learned, it's been too long.
The scripts are dumb, the stench is real,
A reek of rot no lie can seal.
Grey-haired morons, blank inside —
Their Spirit smothered, crushed by pride.
These aging children rot in place,
And dumber grows the human race.
The sandbox now — a filthy cage
Where idiots squeal and cowards rage.
Traitors sit drooling in the grime —
The decent ones? Extinct with time.
Their games are now grotesque, obscene —
The end is near. Death wipes it clean.
A traitor-fool has no more role
In sand or burrow, numb of soul.
---------------------
A sandbox full
of dead-eyed clowns.
The traitor chokes —
and wisdom drowns.
---------------------
Lies and the Legion of Fools
******, Goebbels — now it’s Vlad,
Dugin’s mind-rot, twice as bad.
Ideas rot, but crowds obey —
Marching proudly into clay.
Dumb them down and feed them lies —
You can rule them, hypnotize.
“Tricking me is not so hard” —
Thinking’s tough. It leaves you scarred.
So the ******* chew and spit
Satan’s puzzles, bit by bit.
New-age ******, wrapped and sold —
That’s the meaning, dark and cold.
**** with CowID, **** with war,
Just keep lying more and more.
Herd the morons into lines —
March of death in grand designs.
---------------------
Lies go viral.
Fools obey.
Marching straight
to Hell — hooray.
---------------------
A Choice: Execution or Death
An invite to the gallows feast —
Accept the filth. Obey the Beast.
Endure the Evil? You're its kin.
All rot begins with silent sin.
Believe the lie? Then join the dead —
A zombie, slowly in the head.
Trust fake "science"? Then, for sure,
You’ll be labeled: hopeless, pure.
Don't believe. Don’t kneel. Don’t bow.
Fight the monstrous lie — and how.
Escape the noose? Not quite, my friend —
But Death will hold you in the end.
---------------------
Endure the lie —
you crawl and rot.
Resist — and Death
at least is not.
---------------------
The Dead Ones
A rotting fish just rides the stream,
The dead drift by in lies and dream.
The living soul — a freak, a spark
In zombie fog and dead-man's dark.
The fish will feed the hatchlings' tide,
Its corpse will serve — then turn aside.
But zombies, dull and reeking dread,
Spread rot and poison as they tread.
This stinking world’s a reek machine,
Mass-breeding dead for the death routine.
Ugly rules, the oath is sworn:
"**** all life — let beasts be born."
---------------------
The dead decay.
The filth expands.
While beasts parade
with rotting hands.
---------------------
The Final Turn
The battle horn is drowned —
Now memes replace the cry.
The slaves all kneel, spellbound:
"Just trust!" — the core of lies.
Trust monsters. March with pride
To "treatment" masked as fate.
Be brave — yet crawl and hide,
Just trust... and urinate.
The world’s a madhouse zone,
Where goats lead donkeys blind,
Into the slaughter-zone —
A camp for broken minds.
The final turn draws near…
To what? You think it’s grace?
The fool injects his fear,
Then stumbles into place.
March on — just trust and shake,
You’re almost at the brink.
While Hell counts every ache
You twitch through as you sink.
---------------------
“Trust and obey!”
the demons hiss.
The grave’s one step
from cowardice.
---------------------
Grief and Conscience
To drown your grief in ***** —
Just **** into your brain.
Why not let truth abuse
Your lies with sacred pain?
The lash — a Spirit’s string,
So fine it’s barely heard.
But still it dares to sting
The mind with silent word.
This war is waged to crush
The strings that point above.
Yet through the noise and hush
Still rises purest Love.
No ***** lifts your soul —
It only drags you low.
But conscience takes its toll —
To skies it bids you go.
---------------------
***** pulls you down.
The lash lifts up.
Conscience is pain —
but it's the cup.
---------------------
Virotrash
Virotrash infects the air,
Crushes every vacant head.
Tyrants find their servants where
Fake “scientists” are led.
He’ll “discover” what’s not real,
Prove it to the foolish crowd.
Sanity’s a rare ordeal
In this Bedlam, dumb and loud.
---------------------
Viro-fear,
idiot’s law.
Lies appear —
and fools go "Aww."
---------------------
Creations
Petty, vile, and mean in kind,
Stupidity and madness bind.
We’re “godlike” beings? Hell, no way —
When madness rules and fascists play.
Satan’s march, betrayal’s grind,
Lies made labor, fools aligned.
Talk of “resurrection” sounds?
No — those ******* all will drown.
---------------------
Petty beasts in godlike guise —
Madness reigns, the devil lies.
---------------------
To the Propaganda Consumer
The propagandist screams — but that’s no sign
That terror came along with their shrill whine.
The agenda’s set — obey the call,
To dumb us down, embraced by Satan’s thrall.
The media’s grip—no news to those
Who still keep thinking as their mind still grows.
Lies, fear, betrayal, vile disgrace—
This toxic smoke is all they place.
---------------------
Propaganda shouts,
but don’t you fall—
The lies and fear
will claim us all.
---------------------
A Fool’s Life Work
"An ancient sage once said:
‘Only fools perform outside-directed tasks.’"
— Linji, 9th century
A fool’s life work —
This burden’s never light:
Bruises everywhere,
The mind’s the only fight.
If the head is cracked,
And chaos rules the throne,
That problem in the mind
Can’t be solved alone.
The fool was taught to grieve
Only outwardly,
So crowds stay easy led,
Slaves crushed endlessly.
Boldly turn inside —
All answers lie within.
But Bedlam fights that truth,
To keep fools locked in sin.
Trained, bound in forgetfulness,
In weeds of age-old times,
When minds still had their value —
Now lost in empty rhymes.
---------------------
Fool’s burden — bear it tight,
Mind your wounds, fight the fight.
Outside grief will never heal,
True escape’s inside, real.
---------------------
The Roly-Poly
The roly-poly “Vanka-Tanka”
Endures the endless genocide.
For centuries the same old crap —
In this toy, the mind has died.
---------------------
Vanka-Tanka rocks and spins,
Endures the pain his mind’s within.
---------------------
"Titans," **** Them All!..
“Titans hold the sky up high” —
But on legs made out of clay.
These “Titans” leave the ignorant
To fool’s fate day by day.
“Titans” keep the dark deceit,
Laughing at the dumb parade,
For shadows mask the worst defeat —
Feed rot, and keep it made.
Evil propaganda spreads,
Let chaos flow and grow.
“Titans” stash their falseness,
Ready for the blow.
Plans are made, but if they slip,
They’ll use worn phrases sharp —
To herd us all back in the pen,
Just on time, on mark.
---------------------
“Titans,” **** Their Greedy Souls!
“Titans hold the sky,” they claim —
But on clay legs they stand weak.
Titans drag the fools to shame,
Leaving dumb ones mute and meek.
They keep the fog, the lies, the blight,
Laugh at fools, the morons’ throng.
Darkness beats the devil’s fight —
Feed the rot, they feed the wrong.
Evil screams in endless flow,
Chaos spread in every crack.
Titans stash their fake and show —
Poison stocked to launch attack.
Scripts are set, the game’s well planned,
If it fails, they’ll strike again:
With worn words and beaten hands —
Herd us back into their pen.
---------------------
“Titans,” **** Their Rotten Skulls!
“Titans hold the sky,” my *** —
They stand on legs of crumbling clay.
These “Titans” ***** the clueless mass,
And leave the fools to rot and sway.
They clutch the fog, the toxic lie,
Mock the dumb in their dark lair.
Better darkness than truth, they cry —
Feeding filth with rotten care.
Evil propaganda roars,
Spreading poison far and wide.
“Titans” stash their fake reserves,
Ready to unleash the tide.
Plans are set, deceit designed,
If it falls, they’ll strike again.
With stale lies, they herd the blind —
Back into their cage of pain.
---------------------
“Titans,” **** Their Rotten Bones!
“Titans hold the ******* sky” —
On legs of clay they ******* stand.
These “Titans” ***** the dumb and dry,
And leave the fools to rot the land.
They clutch the fog, the **** they sell,
Laughing at the dumb and weak.
Better darkness than truth, hell—
Feed the rot that makes them sick.
Evil propaganda’s roar,
Spreading poison, ******* vile.
“Titans” stash their lying store,
Ready to **** up every mile.
Schemes are set, their ***** game,
If it fails, they’ll ******* twice.
With stale lies, they herd the lame—
Back to prison, cold as ice.
---------------------
"The Last Clowns"
The fools still dance on broken strings,
Puppets sold by rotten kings.
They preach their lies with holy sneers,
Fueling fear to chain our years.
The media’s *****, pure disease,
Feeds the herd on its knees.
Brains sold cheap, numbed to the core,
Swallow **** and beg for more.
Titans? Nah, just clay and dust,
Built on lies and broken trust.
They laugh as puppets bleed and fall—
Their kingdom’s nothing but a stall.
Wake the hell up, or die a drone,
Rotting dead with empty bone.
No mercy waits beyond the gate—
For fools who choose to feed the hate.
---------------------
The Price
All theories come with a similar price,
Though some may seem noble, or honest, or nice.
— So name it, just name it — what cost do they bear?
— Theoretical. Mind-stripping fare.
"Knowledge" comes easy — they've gutted the Soul,
But Spirit seeps into each crevice, each hole,
In all things it breathes — but the ****** of the lie
Keep false science leashed where the BEASTS dwell and cry.
---------------------
The High-Rise
A bleak, crawling nest of the weak,
Of madmen — near none break the mold.
No hope for the chained and the meek,
Their madness is deep, tight, and cold.
They call themselves free — what a joke!
Their world is a pitiful cage.
Enduring this filth? Let it choke!
One vow: rise and fight through the rage.
No hope? Then at least save your soul —
Don’t pity the slave in the mud.
Seek Kindred, the Brave, the Whole —
Not lice feeding blind on your blood.
A bleak, crawling nest of the lost —
This world, this insane little trap.
Look past the heads (and the ***!) of the host —
Their time ticks away with a snap.
The beasts shall lose grip on this land.
This madhouse will burn, every wall.
The Soulful shall rise, take their stand —
New worlds await those who don’t fall.
---------------------
The “Flow” of Time
Hour by hour? Thought by thought —
That’s how time moves, when rightly caught.
Those who’re trapped in mental frames
Are timeless fools with hollow names.
They call it nirvana, serene and still,
But five dark spirals spun downhill.
Now he basks in fascist grime —
The vilest freak of broken time.
---------------------
Beyond Time
Time is far deeper
Than all that you claim.
The sooner you melt in it —
Gone is the flame.
Then Hell recedes
From the mind’s old despair —
And joy, and Light
Reborn in the air.
---------------------
Burn the Clock — Rise Beyond!
Time is a trap. Dissolve. Respond.
---------------------
Time is illusion — break the thread.
Melt into Light. Be born from dead.
---------------------
Clock’s a Lie — **** It Clean.
Melt. Transcend. Exit the Machine.
---------------------
Time is rot — burn through the shell.
Light is rising. To Hell with Hell.
---------------------
The Tick is a Trick. Smash the Frame.
No more waiting. No more name.
---------------------
Time’s a film — slice it through.
Step outside. Become the True.
---------------------
Ticking’s a trick — a veil, a snare.
Cut it clean. You’re already There.
---------------------
The moment’s a mask. Rip it wide.
Truth’s not waiting. It’s inside.
---------------------
Watches lie. The Now is fake.
Slash the loop — before you break.
Junk is eternal,
Junk is the law.
Feeling infernal?
Eat one more slaw.
Switch on the Box —
The sacred machine:
You are the Fox!
Nah. Just routine.
They’ve got your key
In the ZomboChest.
Happiness? Eat.
And doubt? Repressed.
---------------------
ZomboBox screams:
"Eat. Obey."
You sell your soul
For junk each day.
---------------------
“The Tiny Orchestra of Hope”
conducted by pure idiocy
The tiny band of Hope plays on,
Conducted by a babbling freak.
No place for hope — it’s dead and gone
In Bedlam, dull and gray and bleak.
Bedlam’s a sewer, stinking, poor —
A dunce still hopes. The rest just spit.
One reflex left: to puke once more
At all this rotten, plastic ****.
---------------------
Hope leads the blind —
straight into bile.
The sane just gag
at all this vile.
---------------------
Rotten Apples from the Withered Tree of Knowledge
We ooze in half-thought idiocy,
Crawling down a dying tree —
The Tree of Knowledge, dry and dead,
Where intuition's light has fled.
No fresh insight, no revelation —
Just blind faith in imitation.
Lies are now the sacred norm,
Mind — the last to take the storm.
We snout through rot with eager feet,
Sniffing every wormy treat —
Eden’s apples, foul and mush.
Mindless — just a walking husk.
---------------------
Eden rots.
We grunt and chew.
No Mind remains —
Just swine in view.
---------------------
The Infantile Sandbox
Thrown in like tanks into the sand —
That’s your infantile land.
The wounded crawl, the games went wrong,
No lesson learned, it's been too long.
The scripts are dumb, the stench is real,
A reek of rot no lie can seal.
Grey-haired morons, blank inside —
Their Spirit smothered, crushed by pride.
These aging children rot in place,
And dumber grows the human race.
The sandbox now — a filthy cage
Where idiots squeal and cowards rage.
Traitors sit drooling in the grime —
The decent ones? Extinct with time.
Their games are now grotesque, obscene —
The end is near. Death wipes it clean.
A traitor-fool has no more role
In sand or burrow, numb of soul.
---------------------
A sandbox full
of dead-eyed clowns.
The traitor chokes —
and wisdom drowns.
---------------------
Lies and the Legion of Fools
******, Goebbels — now it’s Vlad,
Dugin’s mind-rot, twice as bad.
Ideas rot, but crowds obey —
Marching proudly into clay.
Dumb them down and feed them lies —
You can rule them, hypnotize.
“Tricking me is not so hard” —
Thinking’s tough. It leaves you scarred.
So the ******* chew and spit
Satan’s puzzles, bit by bit.
New-age ******, wrapped and sold —
That’s the meaning, dark and cold.
**** with CowID, **** with war,
Just keep lying more and more.
Herd the morons into lines —
March of death in grand designs.
---------------------
Lies go viral.
Fools obey.
Marching straight
to Hell — hooray.
---------------------
A Choice: Execution or Death
An invite to the gallows feast —
Accept the filth. Obey the Beast.
Endure the Evil? You're its kin.
All rot begins with silent sin.
Believe the lie? Then join the dead —
A zombie, slowly in the head.
Trust fake "science"? Then, for sure,
You’ll be labeled: hopeless, pure.
Don't believe. Don’t kneel. Don’t bow.
Fight the monstrous lie — and how.
Escape the noose? Not quite, my friend —
But Death will hold you in the end.
---------------------
Endure the lie —
you crawl and rot.
Resist — and Death
at least is not.
---------------------
The Dead Ones
A rotting fish just rides the stream,
The dead drift by in lies and dream.
The living soul — a freak, a spark
In zombie fog and dead-man's dark.
The fish will feed the hatchlings' tide,
Its corpse will serve — then turn aside.
But zombies, dull and reeking dread,
Spread rot and poison as they tread.
This stinking world’s a reek machine,
Mass-breeding dead for the death routine.
Ugly rules, the oath is sworn:
"**** all life — let beasts be born."
---------------------
The dead decay.
The filth expands.
While beasts parade
with rotting hands.
---------------------
The Final Turn
The battle horn is drowned —
Now memes replace the cry.
The slaves all kneel, spellbound:
"Just trust!" — the core of lies.
Trust monsters. March with pride
To "treatment" masked as fate.
Be brave — yet crawl and hide,
Just trust... and urinate.
The world’s a madhouse zone,
Where goats lead donkeys blind,
Into the slaughter-zone —
A camp for broken minds.
The final turn draws near…
To what? You think it’s grace?
The fool injects his fear,
Then stumbles into place.
March on — just trust and shake,
You’re almost at the brink.
While Hell counts every ache
You twitch through as you sink.
---------------------
“Trust and obey!”
the demons hiss.
The grave’s one step
from cowardice.
---------------------
Grief and Conscience
To drown your grief in ***** —
Just **** into your brain.
Why not let truth abuse
Your lies with sacred pain?
The lash — a Spirit’s string,
So fine it’s barely heard.
But still it dares to sting
The mind with silent word.
This war is waged to crush
The strings that point above.
Yet through the noise and hush
Still rises purest Love.
No ***** lifts your soul —
It only drags you low.
But conscience takes its toll —
To skies it bids you go.
---------------------
***** pulls you down.
The lash lifts up.
Conscience is pain —
but it's the cup.
---------------------
Virotrash
Virotrash infects the air,
Crushes every vacant head.
Tyrants find their servants where
Fake “scientists” are led.
He’ll “discover” what’s not real,
Prove it to the foolish crowd.
Sanity’s a rare ordeal
In this Bedlam, dumb and loud.
---------------------
Viro-fear,
idiot’s law.
Lies appear —
and fools go "Aww."
---------------------
Creations
Petty, vile, and mean in kind,
Stupidity and madness bind.
We’re “godlike” beings? Hell, no way —
When madness rules and fascists play.
Satan’s march, betrayal’s grind,
Lies made labor, fools aligned.
Talk of “resurrection” sounds?
No — those ******* all will drown.
---------------------
Petty beasts in godlike guise —
Madness reigns, the devil lies.
---------------------
To the Propaganda Consumer
The propagandist screams — but that’s no sign
That terror came along with their shrill whine.
The agenda’s set — obey the call,
To dumb us down, embraced by Satan’s thrall.
The media’s grip—no news to those
Who still keep thinking as their mind still grows.
Lies, fear, betrayal, vile disgrace—
This toxic smoke is all they place.
---------------------
Propaganda shouts,
but don’t you fall—
The lies and fear
will claim us all.
---------------------
A Fool’s Life Work
"An ancient sage once said:
‘Only fools perform outside-directed tasks.’"
— Linji, 9th century
A fool’s life work —
This burden’s never light:
Bruises everywhere,
The mind’s the only fight.
If the head is cracked,
And chaos rules the throne,
That problem in the mind
Can’t be solved alone.
The fool was taught to grieve
Only outwardly,
So crowds stay easy led,
Slaves crushed endlessly.
Boldly turn inside —
All answers lie within.
But Bedlam fights that truth,
To keep fools locked in sin.
Trained, bound in forgetfulness,
In weeds of age-old times,
When minds still had their value —
Now lost in empty rhymes.
---------------------
Fool’s burden — bear it tight,
Mind your wounds, fight the fight.
Outside grief will never heal,
True escape’s inside, real.
---------------------
The Roly-Poly
The roly-poly “Vanka-Tanka”
Endures the endless genocide.
For centuries the same old crap —
In this toy, the mind has died.
---------------------
Vanka-Tanka rocks and spins,
Endures the pain his mind’s within.
---------------------
"Titans," **** Them All!..
“Titans hold the sky up high” —
But on legs made out of clay.
These “Titans” leave the ignorant
To fool’s fate day by day.
“Titans” keep the dark deceit,
Laughing at the dumb parade,
For shadows mask the worst defeat —
Feed rot, and keep it made.
Evil propaganda spreads,
Let chaos flow and grow.
“Titans” stash their falseness,
Ready for the blow.
Plans are made, but if they slip,
They’ll use worn phrases sharp —
To herd us all back in the pen,
Just on time, on mark.
---------------------
“Titans,” **** Their Greedy Souls!
“Titans hold the sky,” they claim —
But on clay legs they stand weak.
Titans drag the fools to shame,
Leaving dumb ones mute and meek.
They keep the fog, the lies, the blight,
Laugh at fools, the morons’ throng.
Darkness beats the devil’s fight —
Feed the rot, they feed the wrong.
Evil screams in endless flow,
Chaos spread in every crack.
Titans stash their fake and show —
Poison stocked to launch attack.
Scripts are set, the game’s well planned,
If it fails, they’ll strike again:
With worn words and beaten hands —
Herd us back into their pen.
---------------------
“Titans,” **** Their Rotten Skulls!
“Titans hold the sky,” my *** —
They stand on legs of crumbling clay.
These “Titans” ***** the clueless mass,
And leave the fools to rot and sway.
They clutch the fog, the toxic lie,
Mock the dumb in their dark lair.
Better darkness than truth, they cry —
Feeding filth with rotten care.
Evil propaganda roars,
Spreading poison far and wide.
“Titans” stash their fake reserves,
Ready to unleash the tide.
Plans are set, deceit designed,
If it falls, they’ll strike again.
With stale lies, they herd the blind —
Back into their cage of pain.
---------------------
“Titans,” **** Their Rotten Bones!
“Titans hold the ******* sky” —
On legs of clay they ******* stand.
These “Titans” ***** the dumb and dry,
And leave the fools to rot the land.
They clutch the fog, the **** they sell,
Laughing at the dumb and weak.
Better darkness than truth, hell—
Feed the rot that makes them sick.
Evil propaganda’s roar,
Spreading poison, ******* vile.
“Titans” stash their lying store,
Ready to **** up every mile.
Schemes are set, their ***** game,
If it fails, they’ll ******* twice.
With stale lies, they herd the lame—
Back to prison, cold as ice.
---------------------
"The Last Clowns"
The fools still dance on broken strings,
Puppets sold by rotten kings.
They preach their lies with holy sneers,
Fueling fear to chain our years.
The media’s *****, pure disease,
Feeds the herd on its knees.
Brains sold cheap, numbed to the core,
Swallow **** and beg for more.
Titans? Nah, just clay and dust,
Built on lies and broken trust.
They laugh as puppets bleed and fall—
Their kingdom’s nothing but a stall.
Wake the hell up, or die a drone,
Rotting dead with empty bone.
No mercy waits beyond the gate—
For fools who choose to feed the hate.
---------------------
The Price
All theories come with a similar price,
Though some may seem noble, or honest, or nice.
— So name it, just name it — what cost do they bear?
— Theoretical. Mind-stripping fare.
"Knowledge" comes easy — they've gutted the Soul,
But Spirit seeps into each crevice, each hole,
In all things it breathes — but the ****** of the lie
Keep false science leashed where the BEASTS dwell and cry.
---------------------
The High-Rise
A bleak, crawling nest of the weak,
Of madmen — near none break the mold.
No hope for the chained and the meek,
Their madness is deep, tight, and cold.
They call themselves free — what a joke!
Their world is a pitiful cage.
Enduring this filth? Let it choke!
One vow: rise and fight through the rage.
No hope? Then at least save your soul —
Don’t pity the slave in the mud.
Seek Kindred, the Brave, the Whole —
Not lice feeding blind on your blood.
A bleak, crawling nest of the lost —
This world, this insane little trap.
Look past the heads (and the ***!) of the host —
Their time ticks away with a snap.
The beasts shall lose grip on this land.
This madhouse will burn, every wall.
The Soulful shall rise, take their stand —
New worlds await those who don’t fall.
---------------------
The “Flow” of Time
Hour by hour? Thought by thought —
That’s how time moves, when rightly caught.
Those who’re trapped in mental frames
Are timeless fools with hollow names.
They call it nirvana, serene and still,
But five dark spirals spun downhill.
Now he basks in fascist grime —
The vilest freak of broken time.
---------------------
Beyond Time
Time is far deeper
Than all that you claim.
The sooner you melt in it —
Gone is the flame.
Then Hell recedes
From the mind’s old despair —
And joy, and Light
Reborn in the air.
---------------------
Burn the Clock — Rise Beyond!
Time is a trap. Dissolve. Respond.
---------------------
Time is illusion — break the thread.
Melt into Light. Be born from dead.
---------------------
Clock’s a Lie — **** It Clean.
Melt. Transcend. Exit the Machine.
---------------------
Time is rot — burn through the shell.
Light is rising. To Hell with Hell.
---------------------
The Tick is a Trick. Smash the Frame.
No more waiting. No more name.
---------------------
Time’s a film — slice it through.
Step outside. Become the True.
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Ticking’s a trick — a veil, a snare.
Cut it clean. You’re already There.
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The moment’s a mask. Rip it wide.
Truth’s not waiting. It’s inside.
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Watches lie. The Now is fake.
Slash the loop — before you break.
(58/M/Moldova)
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