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Currently Listening Reachin’ (A New Refutation of Time and Space) By Digable Planets |
Scene 6 has not been worked on, since life has been intervening on my little fantasy world. Meanwhile, this intervention has not been enough to shake this little post’s persistence. Should I self-censor? I do. So I’m walking back from school the other day, am homeward bound and am getting drunk at various pitstops. A recently purchased and replaced mp3 player is pumping highly familiar and nonuniformly depressing songs into my hearing cavities. I’m feeling sick, lovesick I guess, assuming it wasn’t the liquor or the music, and decide to skip my house till I sober up. So I keep walking, passing by some buildings that are vaguely familiar to me by virtue of my irregular stumbling upon them in various states of drunken duress, one set particularly familiar due to a recent memory of a shooting around there.
A shooting, yes. Since you can’t just bring this sort of thing up without elaborating, I’ll mention that the pistol was (hopefully) a gas pistol (all bark no bite) and that I got out of there quickly either way. I made eye contact with the shooter, but was rather far either way so I didn’t bother following up with the police or anything. Plus, with police around here its more rather than less useless to follow up.
But back to me, myself and I. I’m walking, trying to keep from staggering, and the hours are starting to pass, and my whole body starts to get heavy, but the music is still pumping strong and there is still some of that energetic feeling to the liquor and so I just keep walking. I walk for a good four hours on fumes and mp3s. The scenes seen in that light were priceless. The invention of portable music devices has made it possible to live your life with a soundtrack and I respect that, deeply. Thank you to the ones who throughout the years have worked/profited from work in the field of portable music devices, encoding formats, etc. Since I still download music for free I guess my thanks to the artists in/out of the music industry should be directed as worked/didn’t profit. Most of you profited anyways so I’ll just thank you and you take it as you like it.
The scenes in that light were basically a kind of landscape portrait of erosion and attrition of the urban landscape. That and way too many white power slogans all over the place. What did those god damn fabled jew-masons do to you that you now have to break windows and act like a hooligan in the name of Beethoven and all that is good and German. I guess the national socialists are accepting slavs these days, white enough to be Aryan. I hear good things about the Asians, but they are still to be distrusted. Even black people are starting to be ok in certain more cultured nazi corners, but jews are rank evil. That’s Europe for you, eh. a freestyling for the good old days:
–1232 How can I unleash this torrent so that it pours out the way a lioness roars for her cubs, like the pipes burst on the street, like heads burst with my lips. It must be patience and perseverence, the passion of an army of spirits, souls and saviours, the simple people and their pastor’s sleeper cell. I suggest we conspire to bring about that time when there will be no more earth wind or fire. As for the water, let her flow, let her wash all that is around, for all years old. Let there be a new begininning, a new contract and a new upbringing, let it be free from sinning, and better than the last, the time is ripe for a fast, but not so fast, terror man, the time is not ready for your slight of hand, and it sure as hell is not the law of the land.
this isn’t real and you know it
love, my heart on the stove, sizzling like a shish-kebab
while you smile and you nod
to my words so innocently suggested
my thoughts so wickedly inflected
explain to me why should I bother
when this thing will go no farther
than where it started, in me myself and I
you surely know, for the barbecue smells good
and your senses sure cannot deceive you
mine don’t and yet I cannot see you
distortions elevate you to some place close to god
a living being, my place is somewhere else
out my chest comes out a childish sob
while I mask that so I come off tense
on this bed where I lie, cheat and rob
on this bed of earth I act a snob much like surely do you
if I could only see you too.
so much salt and grain, gets is precious rain
–1302
