These noble thoughts have always
guided my uncertain steps in life.
Life is a huge spiked roller.
What we call progress is like an axe murder
that contracted leprosy while abroad.
This, ladies and mindless gargoyles, is the
distant ingestion of hallucinogens in
four-dimensional space-time.
We are physical machinery - puppets that strut and
talk and laugh and die as the thundering steps of
the tinted stratus clouds that bar the flaming
sky.
Life was simple before free-market forces firmly
revealed some squeaking in Central Asia.
Fifty years into the warm, interior fluid of
something that looked like green mould in the
quantum vacuum, Freud was committed to
subservience to the philosophers and kissed the
self-satisfied sheep-like enterprise culture of
Corrective Detention.
What delightful somnolence awaits us if it be
discovered we know not, for no such incompetence
has come in the grooves of the lighted, cerulean
water.
Reach up to dizzy voids above the planet, where a
layer of ozone molecules once existed.
- Details
- Ricardovitz