. . . the kind you find wedged under your car seat. Where it fell, fell long ago as you pulled through the drive-thru window for the last time after a hard days work, of going to the mall. Why was it the last time? Becuase, you realized the externalities tied to what you were doing, feeding into the grossly consumptive lifestyle, each step or rather depression of the foot on the accelerator propelling you ever faster, ever further from the truth. Inventively, it is what we erect. The architecture of inequity, builds a house from some loathsome experience, still, designing with it's inherent flaws, as the days pass away, (it doesn't happen to the effect of the cause), so does the memory of reality. Truth is, easiest to remember, lies are easiest to mutter as one dwells in the muddledom. A twisted web it has spun, in our heads, betwixt brains, and friends undone, by the chaos that ensues, it now consumes you. There is nothing cohesive, it has come unglued. It being the apparent bond that now separates the two being me and the third being you, the first to go of course was the truth. Now it's a stalemate, it's like an odoriferous bog that is stagnate, we are the putrid bacteria that continues to degenerate. Let us decide to disinfect are addiction to dereliction, pause, make it gradual, wait a moment, breathe, add a bandage and gauze to the wounds, seeping, they were deep punctures but there won't be anymore death by necrotic weeping. We stopped it before it went too far. These wounds will scab and scar, being an intentional reminder as we touch this regenerated tissue. Regrowth and progress are now the issue, so let us rebuild a new domain, from fallow earth to the freshly sewn plain of higher existence. We'll forever reconnect, as long as we choose not to neglect how we got here. From the score of millenia to the moment right before these words were written, became sound. As we continue to progress, we dig in the ground, exhume, not to unearth the past (like for fossil fuels), but to cultivate the land for this labor of love to last. Enduring these trials, our testament to tenacity, perseverance is not insanity insofar as we learn from mistakes. And we should, if need to, to go to great lengths, the greatest if need be to be diligently fructuous. We desire this, but if we deny ourselves this, it is allowing the contemptuous traits to dominate and denigrate as they have for so long. Did we decide to occupy the designated space for absurdity? I think not! And let us not hope for change, rather let us be proactive for progress! Thanks Rev. Billy and The Church of Stop Shopping.
Change is dead too, unless it's the precious metal kind. . .
Inventively, it is what we erect. The architecture of inequity, builds a house from some loathsome experience, still, designing with it's inherent flaws, as the days pass away, (it doesn't happen to the effect of the cause), so does the memory of reality. Truth is, easiest to remember, lies are easiest to mutter as one dwells in the muddledom. A twisted web it has spun, in our heads, betwixt brains, and friends undone, by the chaos that ensues, it now consumes you. There is nothing cohesive, it has come unglued. It being the apparent bond that now separates the two being me and the third being you, the first to go of course was the truth. Now it's a stalemate, it's like an odoriferous bog that is stagnate, we are the putrid bacteria that continues to degenerate.
Let us decide to disinfect are addiction to dereliction, pause, make it gradual, wait a moment, breathe, add a bandage and gauze to the wounds, seeping, they were deep punctures but there won't be anymore death by necrotic weeping. We stopped it before it went too far. These wounds will scab and scar, being an intentional reminder as we touch this regenerated tissue. Regrowth and progress are now the issue, so let us rebuild a new domain, from fallow earth to the freshly sewn plain of higher existence. We'll forever reconnect, as long as we choose not to neglect how we got here. From the score of millenia to the moment right before these words were written, became sound. As we continue to progress, we dig in the ground, exhume, not to unearth the past (like for fossil fuels), but to cultivate the land for this labor of love to last. Enduring these trials, our testament to tenacity, perseverance is not insanity insofar as we learn from mistakes. And we should, if need to, to go to great lengths, the greatest if need be to be diligently fructuous. We desire this, but if we deny ourselves this, it is allowing the contemptuous traits to dominate and denigrate as they have for so long. Did we decide to occupy the designated space for absurdity? I think not! And let us not hope for change, rather let us be proactive for progress! Thanks Rev. Billy and The Church of Stop Shopping.