I feel the best score for an IQ test
Is to not take it
We can’t measure the full extent of our mentality
And intelligence exists in a situational capacity anyway
So plenty of people with high IQs seem idiotic to me
Because they need to tell me their IQ
Rather than show me through conversation
Can you say you have intelligence
If it can’t be effectively communicated?
What good is it to me then?
Oftentimes they lack emotional or social intelligence
So what the **** are we measuring?
Spatial awareness? Cognition? Retention?
What makes that more important than empathy or charisma?
Can you make me feel better after I make a mistake?
Can you tell me I’m wrong in a suitable manner?
Or would you just educate me?
Letting me know I’m stupid compared to you
After you took that one test
And now you’re smart for life
That seems really stupid to me

In order to live life to the fullest
One must accept reality as honestly as possible
In order to better move through life
One must be able to learn the lessons they’re taught
And utilize those signs to move smoother
But people pervert the message of these lessons
Because they’re bitter
They learn edgy lessons
For example:
Someone feels betrayed
They say to themselves, “People can’t be trusted”
When obviously plenty of people can be trusted
And thinking something doesn’t make it true
So they end up projecting their bitterness onto people
Because they couldn’t handle the complexity of their pain honestly
Because they don’t like to think about things that upset them
So they learn an edgy lesson and call it a day
And teach edgy lessons for life

I escape the prison of my mom’s womb
To enter the prison of a hospital room
Until I’m taken to my homestead
And my own bed
Where I’m grown fed
But I withdraw with dread
Into a prison in my head

This home is a prison
My parents don’t listen
My mistakes
Bring big spanks
Like prison shanks
Stabbing my flanks
So I go to the bank
And get my own account
So I can move out
Of their prison of doubt

I travel into the local town
It’s the closest prison around
Where much more is allowed
But I’m beholden to the crowd
Who are extraordinarily proud
Of who they knock down
Into lockdown
I wish I was braver
Than these slavers
But I’m no savior
I must hide my behavior
From the prison pavers

I gradually grow consigned
To the prison in my mind
I use to conquer the grind
But I become blind
Freedom I can’t find
In society’s bind
I must stay in line
All of the time

I become a prison guard
So I won’t be barred
By those that act hard
I play the authority card
And ignore the scarred
For diamond shards
Eventually I become warden
And order my foreman
To go to a *****’s den
And find sore men
For imprisonment

In a prison of my excess
The only way to keep success
Is to never confess
And claim I’m blessed
Everyone else is a mess
In need of my fascist flex
So I create laws based on my own personal morality
Confirming I’m right
Pushing out of sight
My personal blights
While I gladly smite
Those I don’t like

This country is a jail
Based around sales
Sold with tall tales
Written by the prison industrial complex
That gives my success its ***** context
And if anyone objects
I’ll arrest them too
Until I’ve built a zoo
Of animals turning blue
Tasting my prison food

In a prison of decisions
That need revision
I continue my mission
Creating nuclear fission
And causing wars
So I may have more
To support my store
Selling blood and gore

Our planet is a cell
I’ve turned into hell
With an oily smell
Satan would recoil himself
But I point to my money
To prove that I’m smart
Can you believe those dummies
Think I have heart?
My heart exists in a cage
Imprisoned through age
And a capitalist rage
To win the war I wage

The prison I build for myself
Are prisons I build for others
When I can only count wealth
I lose love for my brothers
As they run for cover
From a lifelong slumber
Assigned prisoner numbers

I don’t ever want to sleep
Consciousness I must keep
So I may reward reap
The alarm clock beep
Marks another defeat
Because time has leaped

I’m so wired
Ignoring I’m tired
Because I’m inspired
By the idea I’ll expire
And fall asleep under a funeral pyre

I’m drowning many leagues
Under the sea
Because of fatigue
Plundering me
Sundering me
Into a million pieces
Connected to my leashes
Made by the mental breaches
That society teaches

I fall asleep
I fall behind
I fall in deep
I fall in line
I keep falling
From purpose calling
While my search is stalling
And I’m perched in tall weeds

I can’t count the number
Of all my slumbers
Hiding from sun burns
Hearing the fun birds
Outside my window
Where the wind blows
And the grass grows
Through the sun’s glow
I avoid at home
In my sleepy tomb

Click here now
Puppy dog chow
Click here now
Thought disallowed
Click here now
To be part of the crowd

The buyer’s locked
In a liar’s box
On Firefox
In only socks

Click here now
Boom Boom Pow
Click here now
For music that’s loud
Click here now
For soothing sounds

Listen to your peers
Receiving cheers
While you stay here
With a computer near

Click here now
Look what I found
Click here now
**** singles around
Click here now
To be gagged and bound

Open your browser
And act like Bowser
Buy a Mauser
Or trendy trousers

Click here now
I’ll make you say wow
Click here now
I’ll show you how
Click here now
To slowly drown

Ignore your tasks
And buy a flask
Tell your past
Or buy a mask

I keep clicking
Like the gun to my head
Finger flicking
Laying in bed

Criticism is often not taken or given well
Something that helps me
Is focusing on what people are doing correctly
It makes my criticism more genuine
Instead of focusing on how far they’re falling behind
I try to focus on how much further they can go
So I’m genuinely disappointed when they fail
And try offering advice on how to succeed
Which I guess you could call criticism
But it feels a lot less like it

Why is God killing me
So willingly?
He’s filling me
With a ***** disease
Brought by biting fleas
Who do as they please
Until I’m on my knees
Begging for release

Sneezing wheezing
My phlegm is breezing
Through air that’s freezing
Trying to teach me
To act more pleasing
Can I kick this sickness
Brought by wickedness?
Or will it punch me
Into lunch meat?

To be in His vicinity
Is to have divinity
So why does He get rid of me?
Could it be the viscosity
Of all my atrocities?
Or the viciousness
Of my wishes wished?
Or my visceral
Scissor hold
On growing old?
Despite my reverence
I fear his benevolence
Involves my severance

The difference between dying and trying
Has me in bed crying
Fever frying
Medicine buying
From salesmen lying
Saying add pills
Of Advil
And mad will
To not be ill
My plague remains still
On Sisyphus’ hill

Can God cure me
Of this absurdity?
Almost certainly
But by hurting me
I learn to see
He uses pain to teach
The one thing that’ll reach
Through the ******* I preach

My gut round
Shuts down
Lust found
That must drown
In a dust cloud
Of an allergic assault
To an absurdist result
Of catching a cold
To examine my soul

He gives a heart attack
To the heart I lack
As part of the pack
Ignoring God’s path
And finding His wrath
Once He chooses me
To lose and bleed
The flu He feeds
To pull the weeds
That ghouls breed

So cough medication selection
Becomes a time for self reflection
At least until my health inspection
Shows no feverish detections
Of the feeblest direction
When the evilest infection
Is joining Satan’s section