"Abscission of Eschewal”

If I am still, I can hear the voices.

Chimes of advices, softly spoken, coronate in neon in my peripherals. Messages, abscissas from the x-axis of words and sounds, just parallel, float their fog of transmission to me.

“Touch that wall,” a voice’s suggestion nudges as I crookedly gain my balance by clutching the flat surface of this white wall, one fourth of the surfaces confining the contents of a tight enclosure. Just under the ventilation shaft, the wall is vibrating. The voices are louder near vibrations.

The enclosure, with every surface bleach white, is a bathroom, a corner taken at the edge of the convenience store off the four lane highway by the high school.

Its sink compacts spotless metal into its design, and the crafting lines visibly run parallel upon in its surface, reflecting generously to the bags under my eyes. The soap dispenser’s cubic structure cut into a visitor's vision like the blade of a pencil sharpener, showing every pixel and every angle of my face inside it.

Feint grooves dig into the wall in the shape of a triangle and a pair of scissors. Opposite that wall, a door with no handle stands; in the place of the handle rests only a circular lock. Behind the door, I hear a sigh, a winded slurp, the kind joggers give after high speed exertion on a morning run.

I hear the air rush, hitting the nostrils.

I hear a whimper.

I push the door open, slowly, and the hinge pops in intervals as it wedges open.

In front of me, a stool sets with a touch screen phone running on top of it, and a limp woman curls in a ball upon the floor, facing the bathroom. Her eyelids are missing.

A video plays of her on the touch screen phone on the stool. In a Skype window, she, a brunette girl with duct tape wrapped around her mouth, flickers in the thick black mire of what appeared to be another lavatory with a single fluorescent light with faulty wiring blinking a white glow upon her matted, unwashed hair. A black frame and darkness outlines her figure, filling the rest of the room. Her eyelids are missing in the video, just as her eyelids are missing in person, but she grasps to consciousness in the video, and she turns her eyes frequently with nervous twitches, wheezing and whimpering in the Skype window on the phone.

“Incoming call, 785-135-1581,” a white screen with green buttons interrupts.

I touch “Accept” and pick up the phone.

When my ear touches to the phone, I hear heavy breathing.

“No breeding, Jonas.” a male voice whispers.

“How do you know me?” I ask.

“Mating. They want to keep you from it,” the man continues.

“I won’t let that happen,” I assert.

“This was in protest, the first. Eyes open, so they can see,” the man says on the phone.

The male voice I heard on the phone, The Heavy Breather, inhales and exhales.

“Are there anymore?” I ask.

“I didn’t need anymore. Find out about her. See for yourself.”

I check her wallet.

I see credit cards, visas, and a 5x7 with her standing behind a podium in a lodge in a small town with a banner behind it, and a picture of a man racing on foot, crossing a finishing line with an arm outstretched in front of another racer to prevent him from finishing.
On the banner, a slogan reads, “Keep unborn and unflowered: cleanse the youth.”
Seated before her in the lodge are several lawyers, doctors, and town leaders conversing, smiling, and greeting.

“Look what they’ve done, colluding together, excluding us.  Leaving us alone. Partying while we suffer. Those in The Colluded of the Equinox kiss their wives and girlfriends and children in public they hoard and tell it all to us, flaunting their miscreant deeds. They hide in shadows and do every wrong thing, but they only rarely do wrong in public, and they are never together at the same time. They keep hidden company. They rejoice in their evils, oppression. We live not more than a few miles from them, wherever we live at anytime. We live with them. One sin from an unlucky man is worse than a thousand sins from a lucky man. Is that it? Is an unlucky Christian worse than a lucky atheist? They spew their mantra: 'It’s so much worse than you think.' They tell you you’re not what you think, that everything you know is wrong. 'Submit,' they say. You know what I did? I did what I wanted. This woman on the ground before you is what I wanted.”

“All this to stop from reproduction? This society…” I ask.

“I hate it, also. Be it willing or unwilling conspiracy, it is still conspiracy, high crimes, ” The Heavy Breather responds.

“Crimes before whom?” I question.

“I don’t know,” The Heavy Breather admits.

“I know some. First, they stare. Peeping in your windows, following. Then, records, whole security camera videos, receipts in stores, gone…written in ink that disappears. Records of existence...gone.Wherever you were, you were never there. That’s what they want for you, to delete every backed up conversation, memory, and recollection, so they can instill new things. I shopped in stores, and the devices were amnesiacs,” he recounts.

The woman on the floor moans and stirs, but she settles again feebly.

"They can't get rid of all that at once," I interject.

“No, but they keep scraping the little details of life away, proof of life, covering them up. They have cleaners, cleaning up our little spills of progress and success. Witnesses, like the devices they own, are amnesiacs." The Heavy Breather asserts.

"Even if the electronics are wiped clean, they must have seen us at stores or parking lots, somewhere. They can think for themselves and put it together, right?" I ask.

“Those that remember us have no incentive to continue those memories. The Colluded of the Equinox brainwash. Married people are telling the ***** not to get married. They force celibate priests, figures in white hoods.
The Colluded of the Equinox force people like quivering lures, closing doors until the only ones left are of seclusion and chastity. They are in all religions, hierarchies, in every ruling body, replacing reproduction with work, with ‘purpose,’“ he continues.

The body on the floor twitches as I hear the Heavy Breather grunt on the phone.

“These are their protocols. These are the Colluded’s motives. The Colluded condemns displays of affection, physical acts of love, reproduction. The Colluded controls the population. The Colluded tells the women to focus on each other and obey advertisements’ models of how they should behave and look…conformed and emotionless. The Colluded are survivalists, locking the reproductive organs of selected citizens to save money and keep control. The Colluded use the magnetism of credit cards to lock your urethra…the tingle you feel when you sit down on your credit cards in your wallet…it lowers your ***** count,” he growls.

“The answer came to me. 'Write your message on her insides,' said the sentence that was scrawled within my closed eyes in neon. It should read: ‘She threw us a stone instead of bread, the way corrupt people do.' You can go, now. I have work to do,” he suggests.

I heard a motor crank on the phone.

“Should I expect the authorities here?” he asks as the sound rumbles in the background.

“Carry on. I didn’t see anything,” I reply.

I grab the cell phone from the stool, press the 'End' button, put it in my pocket, and walk out of the bathroom, pushing the woman on the floor with my foot on my way out far enough from the door to close and seal it in front of her, nodding to the convenience store clerk as I push the glass door open and walk out into the street, cranking up my car and leaving to the open road.

The glass of wine spins on sins
Encircling the royal roulette
All rotating on a hamster wheel
Pinned on canvas and illusional walls

So tiny in errors and unbalanced books
Unaccounted annotated distributions
Twisting hands on colluded coils
Deeper projections from the heart

An eruption of the social notions
Extracted on the paradise of life
For no truth echoes authenticity
Eccentrically finding a lived reality

Plato symposiums and simulacrums
Pavlov trails of social conditioning
Sampled in tented objectifications
Functioning within the invisible rules

We sniffle as we expose the false actuality
Reactive explosions from robust heat
Unloaded rods dancing under the moon
In our tenderness rejecting the paradigm

Ink and rabies flows in our veins. Copper cogs hold our eyes into place, and we can see the undulating liquors flowing like waters in a transparent waterbed, rolling back and forth with gravity.

Ink and rabies flows in our veins. They came with togetherness, in the same pen, passed along, gently, from one hand to another, a friendly enough gesture, cultured, combined, colluded into a single consciousness of tactful inks together, tactful links together, a single solvent.

They were once separate towns...separate people...until Radii Ink and Yuli Rab were together...

The strapping young boys
Will play with their toys
And cause harm to er'one around.

They'll make lots of noise,
Colluded with poise,
Among them not a soul to be found.

It wasn't too long
Before they were turned on
To firm over in Illinois,

Where collusion has proven
A blooming conclusion
For all whom they choose to employ.

"Is this an illusion?"
Said one in confusion.
"I'm successful and happy and paid.

"I'm a millionaire
With brilliant hair,
And a beautiful dame of a maid!"

"Pardon my intrusion,
You've chosen profusion
O'er doing the world some good.

"Prepare for seclusion-
A lonely conclusion
Is knocking beneath your hood."

The dough is molten at oven spring,
like a prayer to the historicity of things ..

Have we not imagined yesterdays
in the ritual of bread ? While our pasts

lay embezzled, on the tongues of men, the
sentiment of centuries colluded in germ,

echoing through heirloom remembrances
those floury philosophies of change.

While I stretch dough to gaze past
a windowpane, as far back as Khorasan ..

they were other names then, another
elasticity in time. Faith is a memory

of settled people in lands of milk and
honey, where every drought, every flood

spawns a new religion .. and the wheat,
always begs the same old question:

Are we there yet, in the fertile crescent
of opportunity ? The grains haven't changed

in their stolid countenance - long, subtle,
germy, cosseted. In the granaries of kings ..

they are willed by royal decree, never to die
in an eternal future and like humankind,

who score bread in the cuneiform of hearts,
grain is always thirsting to seed the land.

I don’t encourage the courage it takes to blow up a building
Or respect those who expect blind obedience
The factories that distill human suffering for profit
The gasses and poisons that are toxic
The philosophies and doctrines that make humans compliant
To higher authorities without reason and logic
People becoming socially caustic
When compassion is traded for competition
And the fit don’t survive cause the trick is
This sickness is a symptom of human corruption
Greed infecting and spreading hatred and resentment
Neighbors aren't neighbors but gladiators in the pursuit of success
Better cars, better houses, better jobs, better spouses
Denied contentment’s peaceful breath
Tricked into thinking we get more than this width and breadth
So it’s okay to play at barbarity to dress up the bombs with flags and prosperity
And our masters have the right to decide who we should and should not fight
After all even though we were deluded we colluded with our own oppressors
While they trade secrets with our supposed enemies
Sell weapons to allies turn allies to adversaries
And even though we think we chose this
We the people did not accept this sort of justices
We did not vote on this democracy, we the ill-informed masses
Illiterate in the true art of classes and rich distinctions
Of those who seek their own advancement not our improvement
Corporate sociopath with little empathy for the welfare of others
Smother our sister and brothers under the cover of complacency
And what really bothers me is that I am just as much to blame
I coat our pain in pretty words thinking pettily that I am helping
But in the end I am only helping myself feel better for doing **** near nothing

Brain was a happy place where
all the memories lived together.
There were occasions of mistrust
but it seemed like a good place to live.

Like every society, there were
some unsocial elements in Brain too.
But the good memories could
keep them in control easily.

But something changed in Brain.
Negative thoughts came in large numbers.
They were heavily armed and
were well trained for combat.

The good memories, the core
defence of Brain, were helpless.
They lacked the necessary skills
and the “good will” wasn’t enough.

All the memories were terrified.
To make matters worse, the bad memories
colluded with the negative thoughts.
They leaked vital intel about the defence.

Once the good memories surrendered,
all hell broke in Brain.
The negative thoughts became unstoppable.
They tortured the memories to death.

In this time of terror,
the memories needed a leader.
Someone, they could look up to.
Hope came to their rescue.

The Queen of Qanant
Was a right royal ****;
A ***** of the first water.
And almost as bad
Was the offspring she had,
Her high-class badass daughter.

She looked at folks funny
If they didn’t have money
To her it was all about gifts.
The Queen didn’t share
That her kid pulled her hair
Her stinginess created a rift.

The Queen of Qanant
Had all she could want
Spangles and baubles galore.
She had so much junk
She needed four hunks
To carry it all through the door.

Her land was in a pickle
No downward dollar trickle
With which the poor could pay rent.
She ignored all petitions
To improve the conditions
Thus a civil rebellion could foment.

Her people could starve,
No roast beast to carve;
To her the whole issue was closed.
So her daughter colluded
And the story concluded
When Mommy the Queen was deposed.

So, that’s what’s in store
When you ***** with the poor
And ignore their righteous complaining.
That’s the way things are
You get only so far
To **** on them and tell them it’s raining.

The daughter was no better
She matched mom to the letter
And the whole story started again.
But that’s what people earn
When they never quite learn;
They end up back where they’ve been.

If we feel guilty
For privileges we have in our life
We all must become victims
Doomed to be resentful
Guilt breeds resentment
Fear will do the same
If we all have to make our lives worse
Exaggerating our own pain
When privilege is synonymous with race
We will always have opposing sides
The media creates this hate
Not the people
They want you to be scared
They want war
It keeps us distracted
From the socioeconomic games
The wealthy need chaos
To keep us fighting each other
Instead of creating actual change
All your Governments colluded
They want it this way
We are all divided
Causing each other pain
I know there needs to be accountability
But there must be a better way
When we are no longer angry at each other
Humanity has found it's way

Before corona, nursing homes residents were being killed,
naked elderly lying in hallways unattended to for hours,
staff watching as resident says they will get out of bed,
can't and does anyway only to fall straight to the floor,
medications being placed on the floor before being put into
resident pill caddy dispensers, medications being put into
resident drinks then those drinks given to other patients,
food trays delivered on he laps of residents, so staff can do
two things at once, for other residents, food trays dispensed
from a few inches off the ground food tray carriers so
pestilence must get into food, staff continually not doing
their jobs or abusing, lying about residents in any way they
can think of, medical staff purposely lying to and not
treating residents, on and on, residents not being allowed to
see outside doctors in order to actually get treated, staff
physically abusing residents during medical treatments as
retaliation for complaining, medical treatments and drugs
ordered by doctors not administered.  For the N.H. makes
most it's $ on intake and when the resident leaves, so staff's
job, to **** them as quickly as possible to increase turnover.

So covid's also a cover-up of that.  Like before pandemic,
Nursing Home residents, and now staff, are genocided,
42 % of all virus fatalities occur there.  This is also a
Hitlerian eugenics program.  Also healthcare facilities, meat,
poultry packing plants, prisons, densely packed businesses,
are concentration camps, workers are forced to work, catch
covid, give it to others, die, our schools are the same now,
genocide of kids and staff, all for ****'s re-election effort.
For, still, the purposeful non-use of the DPA by **** of
Utin, not nationalizing the manufacture, distribution of PPEs,
good testing, which would save taxpayers 100's of billions of
dollars overspent now on gouged prices, 100's of thousands
of their lives, continues, as he preaches his 'covid schmovid'
policies at his super-spreader of disease rallies, murdering
repubs.  Yet, again, ****'s Admin. is trying to steal food
from the mouths of babes and give it to billionaires, cutting
food-stamps, S.S., giving handouts to wealthy.  Now, Utin's
****, head of the republican bi-polar global conspiracy of
unpowers that unbe, is paying Utin, head of the totalitarian
conspiracy and the global oligarchy, with Russia's inclusion

in the G7, etc., for Utin's paying bounties to Taliban to ****
our military.  Grandpa, dad, brother, son, all military except
me, a military family, can't believe ****'s such a traitor,
instead of a Commander-In-Chief.  Every minute another
citizen perishes from pandemic needlessly, why? Why in this
land of American dreaming, where we put men on the moon,
have Space Forces, are we not able to mass-manufacture,
distribute masks and to accurate testing to limit the spread
of virus?  How can our businessmen, politicians not solve
this now?  "...We(e),...", can't beg, must we in 2020?  Also,
the 'Bob Woodward interviews' with **** prove he knew
about how serious covid-19 would be in 2-20, and said the
opposite to staff, country. He calls our military "suckers",
"losers", he called John McCain "not a hero".  Recent reports
by our intelligence community, FBI, reveal that Heir Mueller
should've declared that the **** international crime family
"had colluded in the Russian conspiracy to steal the election
of 2016 for him", that, "Heir Mueller failed to follow the $
trail of ****'s, which would have proven him and his crime
family did many more crimes than were investigated", that

"Russia's doing the same, and will worse, now, during the
rest of the election cycle and the **** Admin. is not just
doing nothing to stop Russia, they're actually aiding the
hacking of this election".  His niece, Mary Trump has stated
that, "all of what the public knows about him and his
failings is accurate, and he's even much worse".  He's been
keeping security, other Gov't staff at his hotels for months
straight, even when he's not there at the cost of 100's of
millions of your tax dollars.  More victims of his **** and
****** assault history are coming forward to report those
crimes against them.  He invited the Taliban to have a Gov't
Summit at Camp David right before the 18 th anniversary of
the attacks on 9-11-01, that were purposely not prevented by
king george and his ****, cheney, like **** purposely didn't
prevent the corona virus from becoming a pandemic here, it
was canceled by his staff at the last minute.  He just said,
upon hearing we've over 200,000 dead from covid, and over
6 million cases, that, "we should test less, then we'd have
less cases, we're doing fine, the end of corona's just around
the corner.", while he effectively does little to less.

Now, the deaths top 230,000 and over 7 million cases, we've
4 % of the world's population, yet, 25 % of virus cases, why?
**** just told the country a week ago, he "may not accept
the outcome of our elections in a month, 'cause mail in ballots
are a scam, if he losses, election was rigged by democrats".
His admin. are already talking to States where republicans
control the State Legislature and can choose to dispense with
the popular vote by replacing it with a set of electors they've
chosen in advance, and will say "they represent the will of
the people, instead of the elections results".  He also has
threatened that "there will be violence in the streets if he
doesn't win", etc..  The candidates for President just had their
first debate, a one ring circus, made so by the carnival barker,
****.  He refused to follow rules, continually interrupted
Biden, pathologically lied as usual.  'Time is longer than twine',
and 'to err is human, to forgive, divine'.  It's unforgiveable,
n'er forgettable.  Joe's not only persisting in reminding our
nation who "..we(e),.." are and can be, also that we're citizens
of a great Union. Inspiring, Biden's campaign rises, uplifts.
We all can, must stop this madness now, vote early, GOTV.

I don't know,
  Am I up to 52 of my poems this go round?

I've been to a school of hard knocks-

I've shaken hands
With the devil,
You know.

Or God, was it?

I have colluded

With Russia
I've told Putin that he is a *******
Royal,
And he went along with it.

Will that be my non crime,
Or my sentence
Along with other criminals.

Every sentence
Must have a period.

I didn't make the rules up,  
Dude,
Man, how does this hang

They shone in the obscurity
                      of every sunset.
Eyes absorbed  every teardrop
        that welled in there vacant
                           tombstone eyes.

But they were more than
                                    obscuration,
       within the stages of radiant demise.
They collected the bounty of those that
      versed from the sacred paths of hues.

There were those that had feel between
          optic blades and the indistinct gleams
that were contentious wounds that were
                                       underhanded shades.

                 The tinges, neither pure of light.
And those that feel in the eclipse of darkness.
        But it was a secret conclave of those
                 who were fractured between both.

But within the collective of shade
                                            and illumination.
Where those that versed the combination
as a sacrilege to the foundations
                                   of eternities motion.

Everyone but a few colluded to  constant versions,
             qualified  hues had to change,
                             or the universe would grow stagnant.
And so began the feud between the shades
         of perpetual opacity.

As the evanescence shimmers
                     where all where falling
                     like dead stars
cleaving within the benighted landscape.
We all glared like life was burying its self.


But they walked between us,
           shimmers of what was wanted.
           And the reputations of our reflections.
Everything must evolve, even the reflections
that fall between the cracks of life's obscurities.

I miss your smile,
your laughter,
the chuckle you had,
the way your whole body
colluded with the laugh.

I miss your step,
the way you walked,
the soft spoken talk,
the humour, the dry jokes,
that I miss deeply,
the memory chokes.

I miss your look,
that gaze,
the big eyed stare,
that look
that seemed to say:
I care.

I miss you
for not being here,
miss your presence
in a room,
the chair vacant
where you once sat,
the photographs of you
looking back,
saying nothing,
looking far away,
nothing more to say.

I miss the whole of you,
not just bits and pieces,
not just this or that,
not just your tee shirts
or black hat.

I miss you
and wait for answers
that may never come,
never find the real reason why
someone ****** up
or why you had to die.

Teach me to be human
to shake and take stakes
to be vulnerable and regenerative
to stay calm as the sun sets

Is human living just vanity?
a trespass of mindless thoughts
colluded in a pathway of the burnt
enlivened by the patterns of the world

Bring me to a beautiful shore
where I boil before the simmer
crawling to the rise of existence
hurt and disapproved by meaning

Teach me to be human
as the soul unveils the way
responding to a youthful mind
where right and wrong is an illusion

.so... watcha drinking? lemonade. are you sure? ok ok, "lemonade", or what i like to call vintage apple cider; but it might as well be "lemonade": on this fine, fine English autumn's day, dreary and disgusting like a wet dog - a wet Irish wolfhound.

oh sure, Islam is spreading in Western Europe,
back East, Catholicism is cited to be
one of the major players in bringing down
Communism...
        rumors about how John Paul II and
Ronald Reagen colluded...
                  so... Islam in the east...
   what with the rich history of interacting
with the Ottoman Turks at the siege of Vienna...
a shared past it seems,
on the warring side of things...
     translates as mutual respect in the current
year...
         but i'm not bothered about the current
year,
            i couldn't convert even if i wanted to...
the emergence of the nag hammadi library
is already too problematic for me...
   the new testament, is, for me,
       a pre Byzantine propaganda text...
add to that the history written by
                             Josephus ben Mathias...
the story of the flight to Egypt by
Joe and Marie Sue...
               and the detail about an Egyptian
false prophet attempting to seize Jerusalem
by force... from the Mount of olives...
etc. etc.,
                     but i've had Muslim friends
in the past, one a (Muhammad) Salman Khan...
and i don't know why i've recounted
out friendship from our days at school...
oh... right... dates.
   - but not just any dates....
not the sickly sweet European variety...
Persian dates... fresh dates...
                   i remember breaking fast with
him in the easier, Winter example of Ramadam,
in a post-school extra-curriculum Statistics
class...
                    Muslims tend to break
their fasting by eating dates...
              i can't believe that a reminder of
the taste...
   funny thing is... who would have
thought that in a market town like
Romford, on the river Rom...
                      you can buy a packet
of dates... Persian dates...
that also read: product of IRAN...
                 Tehran, Iran,
                     and...
it's a Mazafati date... so watch it, yeah?
   email: hamid.javaheri@pol.ir
     tel: +98 (21) 77642527-8...
which brings to mind...
    i always thought that Islam was
far more sensible, the further east you
went... or rather, that...
there have been no... ****'ite attacks in Europe,
only the ****** authoritarian Sunnis...
plus... we're talking Persia...
where were the Arabs when the Persians
reigned supreme?
  scuttling along desert routes
of their ****** peninsula looking for
water among them tripping from dehydration
hallucinating fata morganas...
then again... why should i be surprised...
after all... religious doctrine is one thing...
but for the Persians... eh, **** it...
let's settle for something variant,
loose canon... Sufism...
                                  and there you have
your moderate, universal aspect of Islam...
a... shared longing...
  for something none of us can clearly
articulate, other than through bogus poetry
and mysticism.

A forced, facsimiled smile
crept upon my weary face
to help construct the wall between us
although its design is in poor taste.

It’s as if mankind colluded
albeit leaving out few and far between
to create a solipsistic kingdom ruled by masks
while truth lay dormant in the unseen.

Should I shatter the aporia
That occludes our interaction
Or propitiate the insipid bond we share
to neither of our satisfaction?

****... I need some coffee.
- - - —— - - - —— - - -

By: Cedric McClester

He’s the precedent
Not the president
A stable genius?
Or is he heinous?
I think he lied
But you can decide
Whether he’s the precedent
Or the president

Now he’s concluded
He never colluded
And he’s deducted
He never obstructed
The Mueller probe
Though he’s been disrobed
So is he the precedent
Or the president

Who could have thought
All that man has wrought
And it’s very clear
That we need to fear
What’s gonna be proven
He needs removing
Because he’s the precedent
Not the president

We shouldn’t have to ask
Whether he’s a horse’s ***
By now it’s crystal clear
By the evidence that’s there
He’s a narcissist
And so let’s ponder this
He’s not the president
HE'S THE PRECEDENT!



Cedric McClester, Copyright © 2019.  All rights reserved.

A Colluded illusion
Ilicitng indecisive decisions
Which side of the schism
Is your tomb in....?
Skrrrt!
Would it behoove you to know
It doesn't really matter?
Should we unify begin to solidify?
Love would mend and strengthin.
Ya that's gonna happen ......
See how sarcastic
Splatter the screen with blood
C'mon traumatize me.....
Let me hear the catastrophic
Story ... ..
No not that one
No I'm craving something to enrage me .......
****** mayhem religion ,racism
Not the money *** and drugs
Let's glorify that on the silver screen
That way the kids can see who we want them to be
We'll watch it with em
Maybe even vicariously...
Isn't it hilarious  
How we show them how to be so cool.
Then say
HEY *** .......?
why you acting this way
Don't be what we say
We don't portray?
Plus I'm doing everything I can to raise you......
Rieeeet?
So I'ma take it easy
But you better turn out better than me
Even though you think you have the right to run your neck and disrespect me...don't think
That alone makes you a better person than me ......
See what I mean .
Anybody can say that everything seems to be against me......
I'm live in a state of static
Lcd  stereophonic 10000 watt.
Amp 20 inch woofs
24 inch blades
12 gauge
***** my ears fill me with worry hate fear........
Put me in the cage keep me chained
Don't let me loose keep me tuned in......
The venom is ready
The needles pop then slide in
One for each eye and one for each ear
To controll what we hear
And manipulate our vision.
Augment reality
They watch us continually

we react
they keep pushing it in
The  spastic chatter
Spit by mad hatters and creating haters and division the say they're doin everything they can to protect us .........
***......from who?
Us or you .....



Its just another plastic prescription from spin doctors
Keeping us posted...........up
"This just in"
We interrupt this movement
With another social injustice
Because honestly when the
People get quiet
We get nervous
Better shake em up
So the dont wake up.

Can this really be a conscious
collective conspiracy


Flooding my psyche with ideas that I'll never be free