do the devil's work

10/29/10 Halloween Party @ Albion House

Just some highlights: Diego after a Loko and some shots singing to the Buzzcocks, drinkin/smokin with Charlie Numbers and HippieVarg, Hate making me enjoy Hatebreed's music for the first time in my life (and Eric digging me out this sweet Amy Winehouse shirt), learning the "beard bump" as a greeting, moshing to "Gimme Some More", Diego's pole dance that no one saw during "Nervous Breakdown", finally buying a copy of Weird Brain #1 (excellent writing from Spider: "It's so easy to pose and pretend to feel hate or anger or dissatisfaction with aspects of one's everyday life, but I want that only truly mad, dumb, ugly, morbid, and spiteful assholes with no lives outside of hardcore to read this. Do what you want and get what's coming for it, you fucking fakers."), that Atalanta accent like a sweet Georgia peach, smokin GC and PK, and sharing "I love you"'s with John Caution Voorhees as he held a (real) machete inches from my face, no homo, that ridiculous carnitas burrito at Lassos around 2am, and finally, Varg snoring louder than Integrity was playing in my car on the ride home.



Last night was a glorious return to the Caputo Halloween Party. Lots of awesome drunkenness and stupidity all around as well as some epic guido-ness from Nico and Anthony at 3am when they decided to kick everyone out: "Get the fuck outta here! You're drunk, just like ya paaarents! I'm goin to sleep, GO THE FUCK HOME!"

The highlight though had to have been taking a ride in Mach 1 after a blunt and drinking down about 8000% of my daily vitamin B12 needs and listening to Integrity's "Those Who Fear Tomorrow" full blast synthesizing with the ungodly roar of that 4.6 liter V8. Somehow the quick breaks and crescendos kept coinciding with acceleration and I felt exhilarated by their harmony.

The weather is absolutely perfect right now: cold, life decaying with the season's last colors clinging to darkening branches, that rich effluvia of crumbling leaves piling up on the curbs and sidewalks to be thrown wildly around into eventual dead ends. Happy Halloween. Go do the Devil's work.

let go but don't give up

I just want to commemorate the odd satisfaction of being in someone's presence who you know hates you down to the marrow all the while you feel indifferent to it. It's a trivial victory and only a momentary fulfillment, but I'll be damned if it doesn't feel good to be on the other end of that situation.



"i've got drawers of photographs that died at birth
and stacks of abandoned drawings
solitaire across from unread books
the piles grow but still i sleep
dream through the motions
the same
why this house is never clean
all things considered i'm the only one here
i can only do what i've always been told
all i need is some time
now is the time to drive this last nail into the coffin
bury this shit into the ground so we can fucking move on...
THE END
this is the fucking end
BURY THIS SHIT IN THE GROUND
SO WE CAN FUCKING MOVE ON"
-Bad Business, "Journey to the Center of the Earth"

This year has been largely about learning the value of non-attachment. The relief is immense that I feel over simply not caring about certain things/people anymore. It's nice to belie grudges and bad blood and just move the fuck on, unhindered by meaningless guilt and a preconceived notion of being slighted when, in actuality, the reality is that most of it just doesn't matter. I haven't felt this free in years.

Pacific Cuba

(written on the drive home from Mountain Home, Arkansas)

Serious people with the realest of hearts, handshake
with violence with no suffering.
I'm stuttering when I have something to say.



ashes of camels
hash embedded in floorboards above&below
clinging to a worn out shoe
scrape off a little sacrifice wherever I step

the grinding away of perception's hooks
the empty road at deadly speeds, none of you on my brain
the empty road and becoming it

Heavy eyes giving way to split-second
caffeine delusions
when there's no dexterity on board
higher than the mountains leering back
tracing rusty fence lines with one red eye
from the seat of a convenient monstrosity, that god
has given Us to conquer

I'm as much the illusory sky and beyond
as much a worker in the factory gargantuan of my homeland
the centrifugal life, never flying off to extremities
average and white, safe and clear, ignorant
of death and strife

hands and eyes to this road
transfixed on the right speed
where I can dissolve
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX


As we flew on 4 wheels spinning hot against concrete in August Ozark sun through towns like Old Joe(no population listed) and Midway and Mt. Olive we had the music of Carnivale with that slow mournful banjo echoing minutely against distant mountain faces I would wonder about the people there, what kind of lives they lead in these quiet pockets of gOD-fearing Arkansas life. I hail from an unremarkable suburb in the middle of the Midwest with so many other unremarkable people, trudging through this uninspired life and an ever-diminishing consciousness. We spent countless hours touring these backroads largely filled with forested mountains and the occasional incursion of houses antique and new. And driving here, a place I'd never been, I felt so at home. No strip malls, no billboards, no construction, motorists few and far between. Just me, one friend, the mountains and that solemn banjo, the kind that would be heard at hill-folk funerals.



I don't come from these parts, but my father's family were originally from wilderness of West Virginia, true hillbillies. I believe in genetic memory and their untold generations spent in the backwoods must be embedded in my brain, a yearning for that insular life on land. So now I know: when I want to be far away from I where I live, I just want to go back home, to where I've never been, but where I know I belong.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX


To those who don't comprehend, I feel the same about you, your faith in society in family in make-believe, that all you choose works out for you and you alone. You're just characters in a story already inscribed, a crutch made of style and service to the non-existent. I'd rather be honestly miserable than falsely happy. Humans are all born diseased. The only cures are self-induced chemical catharsis, foreign chemical cataclysm...and exegesis. Hate is love decayed and deranged, affection not reciprocated, apathy freedom. Without terror in our hearts we are hibernating, waiting, paralyzed by our own electric drool, pathetic stimuli can't fulfill our extant purposes. Perception is a lie swallowed whole and reality alone can choke your throat. Perception is a wash, a gleaming of the truth; the grist of your mind has to be broken down over time.

revolution is this evolution

Sea of Shit, Socially Retarded, Chest Pain, sick/tired, XbrainiaX @ Spider Skull Island (Kostner House), 9/30/10

It's like last winter in Dekalb all over again, but the three S's (retarded, tired, shit) have all gotten better since then. And it was my first time seeing CP and brainiaX(who were apparently very difficult to get out here; way to be coercive, Robby), both insane grindcore/pwv bands.

As usual, we arrived to find that no one would be going on for awhile, so Old Style was acquired at the corner store. Not a bad night to just sit out and drink anyway (fake edge). Familiar faces gathered steadily throughout the night (even Diego showed up, and he's too cool for this shit) with lots of booze and smoke being passed around. Sea of Shit went up first and played their first demo for the last time; they were good as always and those early songs fucking rip, maelstroms of hatred and spastic outbursts. The dual vocals provide two voices of tension and loathing; the drummer's are about as grim as gets as far as hardcore goes I know Peach is big on them, so I throw him around ignorantly in the pit a couple of times and spilled my first of many beers on the floor that night. I felt like an asshole continuously spilling beer and having cans strewn about, but I picked some up that weren't mine and disposed of them properly, keeping karma in balance. At any rate, SoS played their short but solid set and we got into more drinking, now with Gonzo & Bello of S/T and SR who'd just arrived.

Socially Retarded has been one of my absolute favorite bands since I saw them in Dekalb late last year. I remember being hooked on them as soon as they started playing and their lumberjack-looking singer proceeded to punch and slam as many people in the crowd as he could. Their lineup has changed since then, sans Omar on drums and Jimmy on guitar. Of all people, they acquired Varg Campos on bass, ya know, the fag who wore a dress when he was with Nachos(slur used with his permission). They've also added a new dimension to their wall of sound with Aleks manipulating a giant case of effects pedals and noise-making implements. I should also mention his moshing that night was some of the most beautifully ignorant and maniacal moshing I've ever seen, especially in such tight confines of the basement. He gave me whiskey, too, so they should definitely keep him in the band. SR doesn't play their older stuff anymore, but their new material is just as brilliant in its sinister grinding and abhorrent(in a good way here) vocals synthesizing in a wall of vicious noise, not replicating to you the full measure of emotional alienation and angst, but actually transcending it. Every time I see them now, they seemed to have gotten better, tighter. Their last show here, Mitch, the singer, got caught under a pile of 3 or 4 people, but never lost the mic or had his vocals phased. People this night were smashing him left and right, but he was unwavering, seething a very real hatred, but for me, equals a good time.



From this point, my memory gets a little hazy, but I have all the important plot points retained. I believe Chest Pain played next, to a very receptive crowd responding with senseless moshing and people even quasi-crowdsurfing in a basement with maybe 7' in height. It should also be noted the typical sarcasm of a Chicago crowd. The singer of CP was thanking everyone for coming out and setting up the show and whatnot being met with heckling and their sexuality being contested. Solid set.

I think at this point we went to get more beer and encountered Diego on the way; I was just approaching drunkenness at this point. We got back and ended up being to wrapped up in drinking to catch S/T's first few songs. I stumbled down there and pushed through overly-crowded basement to get up close (if there was a fire...), where I promptly opened another beer in their honor and commenced with much ignorance and hooliganism. All the times I've seen the them, the crowds were either completely out-of-hand or totally placid. This one was the former type, plenty of beer and mayhem; I think it was during this set that I smashed my left knee on the ground, after slipping in beer that I most likely spilled. Their second-to-last song was "Banishment", the perfect tune for getting stupid, even without knowing the words. If you like drinking and grindcore, sick/tired is your best bet.

XbrainiaX closed out the night. They tore through a ridiculous number of songs at the speed of coke metabolizing; the moshing was even more hectic than earlier. In the last couple of minutes, I took either a fist or elbow to the left eye which knocked out the right frame of my glasses as several others and myself were all toppled simultaneously. I tried fervently to grab the loose frame but I was denied and had to stand there holding them until the set was over and then I would begin my desperate search. Luckily they ended shortly thereafter and the frame was mere feet away, albeit scratched as fuck but still providing my right eye with improved sight as I write this. Yep, I'm an idiot. This band still killed it though. I was lucky enough to be in attendance for one of their rare Chicago appearances.
....
...
..
.
.
.
.
I return with no proper ending for the review, but full of some of the best cheese I've ever been privy to as I watched RISK practice in the basement of a factory for said dairy product. Their sound seems to go for a mix of groovy rock n roll and blistering hardcore, bordering on black metal, one of vocalist Evan B's major influences. Honestly though I was more interested in the free cheese and I was not disappointed. This band might be pretty good, too.











Now I'm bordering on the state of weary consciousness into sleep and listening to Converge, making it sound that much more intense, the lapses of a waking mind allowing sound's perception to permeate further into more normally imperceptible levels of brain activity....something like that. The cheese, I think, is functioning like a drug at this point.
"I got a headful of ideas, and they are driving me insane"
Good days they have been recently. It comes with not trying to change the world so much anymore, but rather, moving with it and merely adjusting my own interactions and whims. But there is so much more value in the soundless expression in simply KNOWING something as a real thing, a loss of dichotomy between ideas and actuality. That's where so much distress lies, in that disparity. I find peace of mind in the breakdown of that strange partnership that keeps one debilitated, no longer drawing that fine line between futility and perseverance, but in encompassing all of it. Dread and despair dissipate, simplicity manifests itself...and this is definitely the most positive article I've ever written here.

"This machinery is very ancient, surely we have heard this before."

harangue to put this bullshit in order

"Pull down thy vanity, it is not man
Made courage, or made order, or made grace,
Pull down thy vanity, I say pull down.
Learn of the green world what can be thy place
In scaled invention or true artistry,"
-E.P.

There is nothing good about you, there is nothing evil. You can try for external beauty all you want, but we're all ugly at heart; humans must create the wondrous, out of our crippled and contradictory existence. Bloated with gaseous beliefs that dissipate in the atmosphere, we are born and bred to believe that our world follows a moral process, of right and wrong. That's fiction. Our minds have been making it up for thousands of years. It's so much easier to demarcate the world on moral values and divide people as such. It's so much simpler than facing reality and the inimical, organic process to which it adheres. It's scary to think that the universe doesn't give a shit about you. It's terrifying when broken down, but you learn to understand the fear and awe of being so insignificant in an infinite existence. Seriously think of what it will be like to die without the safety nets of heaven/hell or reincarnation or spirits or what have you. That your life will just go black and you're gone, you will no longer perceive. Such a pure and indifferent process. To my fellow citizens in this day and age, death always has so much empty, moralistic connotation, replete with strange rituals for the corpses and the desperate belief that they're in a "better place". There is absolutely no basis in that. No god gave you a "soul" to return to hIM. You're an electrical charge powering a brain too advanced for the monkey body which houses it. Once you die, that charge is dispersed into the ever-flowing energy fields circling through one end of the universe to another. So in a way, reincarnation could make sense, but not with the religious overtones of karma (which none of you idiots understand; I see people abuse the term constantly). Your energy simply gets redistributed into the same energy powering us all. You're not special, no one is.




It just seems that the world becomes too much for these fellow denizens and they're forced to rest upon a fictional foundation of anachronistic nonsense which holds the hollow ideas of the past in such a bright shining light that, when one gets close and looks it in the face, they see the rotten and empty insides; they're just scraping off decay, and living for it. From this observer's experiences, this is the root cause of hipsterism. And this generation especially is so keen on fulfilling some sort of past aesthetic and self-serving idealism. So much so, the world where the rest of us are living (Hi, over here) becomes indistinct, muddied, a world too vast to come back to, because living in the past is so easy, so boundless in its selective morality and self-gratification. This is not to say the past doesn't offer us anything; quite the contrary. But people nowadays seem to be more focused on past trends rather than ideas that could, I don't know, matter.

Ezra Pound once said, "Literature is news that stays news". But now we live in this strange time and place where information has become so abundantly prevalent, that, by and large, it becomes spurious. There's so much all the time bombarding your brain, and with any information from the past so readily available, good ideas just get washed out with the rising tide of vapid, selfish idealism, culture that promotes entertainment, distraction and "fun" in lieu of profound, lasting art that reverses psychologies, that breaks intellectual chains, the kind that shows us how very small and insignificant we are in this constantly shifting and completely indifferent universe, that there is the greatest beauty in knowing that we are part of the big picture, and not each of us a picture to their self.

(Misanthropy and humanism do not exclude one another. I don't trust, agree with, or really even like most of you, but I understand that we are all in this together, and I'm trying, honest, to bring something more constructive to this world that continual negativity over the largely worthless human race. God I just hate you all so much sometimes, but, regardless of my personal feelings, I know that we must work together, as the much more selfless social creature we evolved into before bullshit like religion, economics, mass agriculture, advertisement, pointless bigotry, pathetic hipsterism, prison-like schools, prisons run by inmates, fake food, products to promote abject laziness, the neuroses of the young over love and sex and all the anxieties transferred to them by their weak, self-centered, ineffectual asshole parents who are more concerned with their personal time and checkbooks to give a shit that the generation they're raising will one day run things, and all the elders will be dead by then, so no harm no fail; the outcome looks to be quite precarious; I'm sleeping less, but it doesn't have to be this way. We are capable of so much more, and superior things as well. The process of achieving that in this hyper-fattened world, though, will be grisly to say the least.)

"This is your target, people. Aim well." - Scott Levy

Fifteen Albums

Taken from Facebook, these are the 15 albums that have influenced me the most up until this point in my life and beyond. The following are more important to me than most people I know.

maudlin of the Well - Bath

I remember reading about this band when I was a sophomore in highschool. I fired up Kazaa and attempted to download "Geography" and was able to hear the first few seconds but couldn't get the rest. The first few notes had an intriguing tone to them and I had to hear more. Luckily fellow S-Wood Academy alumnus Diego owned both this album and its counterpart, "Leaving Your Body Map". He let me borrow "Bath" and I listened to the whole thing in study hall that day. From the opening chords of the first track, "The Blue Ghost/Shedding Qliphoth", I was entranced by these unheard of musical expeditions into beauty and anguish; and they quoted William Blake and Final Fantasy in the liner notes. Toby Driver's music is unparalleled and continues to enrich my life to this day. My favorite. Ever.

"It hurts remembering/the fragrance of Heaven."



Metallica - Ride the Lightning

When I first heard "Ride the Lightning" in 8th grade, my favorite bands were Korn and Limp Bizkit (that was painful). This changed everything. It was my introduction to true metal and I became obsessed with this band for the next couple years. Whatever crap I was listening to at the time fell out of rotation and out of mind and was replaced by Metallica, Iron Maiden, Megadeth, etc. This is probably where my musical elitism began.

"Out for my own, out to be free."



Prodigy - The Fat of the Land

First CD I ever bought. And still throw it on occasionally, even though I hate techno.



Bob Dylan - Highway 61 Revisited

Not sure what got me into this album considering at the time all I listened to was metal, but Dylan's gravelly, out of key voice fascinated me, as well his wild and exhausting lyrics. And his music stood apart from all that terrible hippie music of his era, and outsider music makes for the best.

"Now the winter time is coming. The windows are filled with frost.

I went to tell everybody but I could not get across."



Sex Pistols - Nevermind the Bollocks

Though I was anti-punk(rock) at the time (for whatever stupid reason, I was against a lot of music back in highschool), I enjoyed the hell out of this album. It's grimy and poorly-played but it planted the seeds for my later love of punk and hardcore.



Burzum - Hvis Lyset Tar Oss

"what once was is now lost"

Wandering snowy forests as night sets in during depressed teenage winters and this album makes perfect sense. Never heard anything quite as horrifying and meaningful as early Burzum. Varg's reputation and politics aside, he made some utterly profound music; I was forever changed. It's music like this that exposes the emptiness and frivolty of the modern world and alludes to the inimicability and infinite nature of reality.



Kayo Dot - Dowsing Anemone with Copper Tongue

To many, this album wouldn't even sound like music, but to me it transcends the limits of musicality. It's a glimpse into eternal consciousness, which is the basis for my current philosophy. More importantly, I have very fond memories of riding alone at night (execpt for the Zebra or his brother) listening to "Amaranth the Peddler" and that being the best times I was having at that shitty point in my life. And Kayo Dot's music has nothing to do with this temporal, contrived world. This is musical perfection.

"almost condescending it looks on from inside/I feel strong this day will never wither"



Shearwater - Rook

Granted I think Palo Santo and the Golden Archipelago might be "better" albums, but I acquired this one through chance, as I have so many good albums when I worked at Border's (free promos were the best perk). I randomly grabbed it from the promo box and threw it on in the car on my lunch break. The first track is exceedingly quiet and subdued which made me turn the volume higher than I thought it was. About a minute in there is one of the loudest and most surprising crashes of music I've ever heard; it scared hell outta me. From then on my obsession for this band grew and in turn the next one on the list.

"well, i've had enough, wasting my body, my life i'll come away, come away from the shallows"



Okkervil River - The Stand Ins

It should make no sense that I like this band. Well, that's an understatement, because I fucking love this band and this album especially. It's sappy, melodramatic, and hipster-ish, but every track is a gem, and I don't know how many times "Blue Tulip" and "On Tour With Zykos" were playing in my car as I thought about heartbreak/stupidity. Will Sheff's dexedrine-inspired lyrics are beautifully executed and always hit your heart the right way. And this band and Shearwater catalyzed my interest in indie folk, but other than the next band on the list, there's no one quite as good in the genre.

"with every single inch of me I'm going to make you mean it

with every single cell of me I'm going to make you mean the words you sigh"



The Decemberists - Castaways and Cutouts

I avoided this band for a long time, just because I saw a picture of them on a magazine and immediately judged them as hipster assholes. Years later (thanks Pandora) I heard "Leslie Anne Levine" the first track on this album and I was immediately haunted by the music. Colin Meloy is a remarkable storyteller and, while appearing whimsical and innocuous on the surface, the subject matter ranges from ghost stories to murder to some seriously perverse tales ("A Cautionary Song"). "The Legionnare's Lament" played constantly the first few months of this year. One of my favorite songs ever.

"If only summer rain would fall
On the houses and the boulevard
And the side walk bagatelles its like a dream
With the roar of cars
And the lulling of the cafe bars
The sweetly sleeping sweeping of the Seine
Lord I don't know if I'll ever be back again..."



Until the End - Blood in the Ink

Considered lame by many, but this was the first hardcore I ever got into, and I was especially not into it at the time. Not sure why I like it. The lyrics can be really dumb at times and the music certainly isn't incredible but it's furious and dancy and just sounds right to me. Listened to it at least a hundred times and will continue to do so.

"With the concrete to my back, i finally feel free.
I have only one problem,
You're in the passenger seat.
I'm never looking back again, i've failed enough before.
Only one more problem before i go and i'm ending it right now.
I'm driving straight at this wall. I'm ending myself here.
My problems will be over soon because you're in the passenger seat.
Accelerate. Tempt fate."



Godspeed You Black Emperor! - Lift Your Skinny Fists Like Antennas to Heaven!

I first heard this about 6 years ago and I'm still blown away by how powerful this music is. To me, it sounds like Beethoven reborn in the modern world: music that struggles with itself to find the right voice to express a truth otherwise incommunicable. Sort of what my life is all about. This album reminds me, though, of a triumphant time in my life where everything, for a short while, was really really good. The first track "Storm" is music of explosive triumph and raging beauty beset by an ugly and harsh world. And they manage to do it with just a few notes in 3/4 times played methodically over and over until it can't go on, and just fades out. Everyone should hear this album at least once.

"they don't sleep anymore on the beach..."



Converge - Jane Doe

Another group that I strangely avoided for awhile and later realized I made a huge error. I would've obsessed over this album had I actually listened to it years ago. The title is perfect, the anonymous archetypal female who generated enough heartbreak and frustration to elicit an album as fiery and passionate as this one. "Abrasive" is an understatement for the vocals, but when you deal with said women, it makes perfect sense, along with the disorienting and violent music behind it. It cuts to the core of heartbreak and completely tears it out to start anew. It's easy to see that Converge has kept me afloat the past year or so. These lyrics sum up so much of that.

"And like that heart that got in the way
I'll become the lost cause
The child of burden and rage
Like the distance in your touch
Like the years we burned down
I heard that phone call
The hesitation, the awkward silence
I felt everything in those seconds
Splinters of sentence and heartless advice
Nothing's changed but these days entwined"



Immortal Technique - Revolutionary Vol. 1

The Technique (as I'm sure to many others) was a revelation to me in hip hop. This has absolutely nothing to do with hip hop that you would hear on the radio. He has a vitriolic hate that few can match, especially against popular rap music, that emphasizes nothing but bitches, money, cars, and shit-talking ego-stroking. This album explores the decay of modern society, the lies of the government and media, the rape and oppression of the third world, and the general public's stupidity of buying into commecialized garbage music. Totally rearranged my view on how effective this genre can be when the mc actually gives a shit about what he's saying; message before money. Again, something everyone should probably hear. "Dance With the Devil" is the rawest hip hop song ever written in my opinion. It's a frightening and grim view of living the life of someone who only cares about money and self-gratification. It's upsetting, but it needs to be heard.
"Some niggas dream of pushin kilos but I drop tons
with more facts formulatin philosophical logic
than a basement full of scientists puffin on chronic
dipped in mycopotassium cyanide and liquid bubonic
and use it as a sonic wand to find the spawn of the demonic"



Socially Retarded - 11 song cassette

I guess this isn't an album, per se, but it's better than most full lengths I've heard. This music describes my own frustrations and hostilities with frightening precision. It still weirds me out a little how exact the words here matched the words in my head. This isn't referential art, though, it's experiential, it's true in its anger and dissatisfaction. You're not being told about emotional alienation, you're living it with these songs. And I acquired this during a time when I was still dealing with people (as Carlin would say) that are stunningly and embarassingly full of shit. So strange to find such fulfillment in an nearly incomprehensible tapestry of hate-filled blastbeats and agonizingly sludgy beats. These songs speak to me like nothing else ever really has.

"I don't want to talk about sports
and I don't wanna hear about your new fucking boyfriend
I tried to go out and meet other people
but this just doesn't feel right"
&
"Don't forget the casual fake fucked smile
or gesture to compromise the fact
that you don't have the guts to open up your mouth hole"

crumbled seas

No one ever got Enlightened by thinking about it.
The roar of a dying engine pierces the cicada drone.
The war of everyday life needs new chapters,
cleansed with gasoline.
Monstrous apparitions still occlude my sight,
reflected in broken mirrors hung outside the walls.
No one wants in when they have to see
themselves naked and real.
Your beauty would be so complimented by the noose;
to hang out somewhere else besides
my brain for once. Maybe if you
would have left me the hell alone in the first place,
I wouldn't crave your anonymity.
I wouldn't curse your name over coffee,
then cry over it when the whiskey's poured.
I wouldn't slave hunched over keyboards
and phones excising out our remaining splinters.
But nothing leaves the head but by chance;
I'm stuck with this til I'm dead, but by then,
I'll already be gone.

servant to things that don't exist because of an underlying fear of purposelessness. - stars down to earth

that inconsistent friendless entity
clinging to lingering delusions
of manifested unrealities
one cannot thrive without living collusions
structure without meaning
action without reason

a temporary journey into an endless winter
buildings filled with hollow people
unfreezing in technology's cradle
my mind has eclipsed my existence
just a rusted machine
just an uncertain mess
believing I'm alive but it's only mechanics and wiring
maybe merrily I could disintegrate
reincorporated into a world that would never have me otherwise
in pieces lies the ability to see beyond the gross rendition
of what's really going on here
god in a lacking body
ascending to the moon on kerosene
I'm beginning to understand how ridiculous it is to be a human
who are we kidding to even be alive
and go about our meaningless lives
sucking the life out of everything
labeling, dividing, controlling, destroying
manipulation of mind matter and energy
avarice unexceeded by any creature
we love pointless pain and pleasure
the urge for satisfaction surpasses the will to love
sometimes the mind slips
and we can actually see how extemporaneous the world before our eyes really is
and how goddamn pointless the modern world is
that we have no fucking idea what we're doing where we're going
we're just building crazy shit and filling the world with stuff
no reasonable species could ever need
(and me writing this in verse
another deranged human)
put yourself in a trance and find out who you actually are
you existed before this planet did
you will carry on after it stretches into singularity
or freezes over and crumbles into dust
the same energy incorporating all layers of reality
will continue spiraling around this inconceivable universe
and we'll just swirl around with it
in vast oceans of consciousness
in eternal darkness filled exploding with invisible life