Like my magickally syzygical Lover before you, oh, World, I will inject the euphoric and transmuting Renaissance into the veins, streams, and streets of our modern, collapsing Rome. “Rome falls eight times a second,” the prophet said in the 1990’s when I was born and Cobain was killed – The emotional and awkward backlash of the modernizing and patronizing 80’s: the Decade of Glamour, the Decade of Corporatizing and World Banking, the Decade of Cold Wars and the capitalization of communism, the decade before the flood of the ethereal and ethical Indigo. “We live in a Society of Strangers,” the reincarnated sage said, breathing in stale air hovering the bourgeois couple at the modernized and commoditized 1960’s diner – Their eyes entranced by their iPhone and their Facebook and their status, the lover’s eyes remaining unnoticed – had he even discovered the hue of her iris or had she noticed the depth of his pupil? Had they even seen each other’s Soul? “A Metropolis of Madness,” the sage continued, “an Ocean of Opponents – some of the waves desperately try to truly, dearly love each other, while the main streams deny the great, living ocean exists! “Some waves argue water is dreamt by Aquarian idealists, yet other dissect the two parts hydrogen, one part oxygen, claiming all existence is black and white! The waves do not notice when the Central Hurricane claims their freedom.” The oligarchy, ostensibly have the people’s interest in mind, oh, only during an election year and only if JP Morgan and Rockefeller and Rothschild can sustain Novus Ordo Seclorum, And only if the conservatives will blame the democrats for taxes and the liberals fault the republicans for their ignorance and the rest of ‘em just ignore it all and bitch in small numbers over how the Mexicans, or the Jews, or the Blacks, or the Crackers, or the Nazis, or the Arabians, or their parent(s), or their government(s), or other religions are to blame – They effortlessly find many fingers to point at one another, but none for themselves, yet find an addiction in superficially entertaining each other through the technosphere and its novel social networks. Yeah, the Net works. Who talks to each other, anymore? Oh, who understands their brother anymore? Our dream slips into a nightmare… “It’s just business, don’t take it personally; remove yourself emotionally,” said the landlord to the tenet. But, the whole world is just business, isn’t it?
germansingergirl
stormborns
yousharknotpass
theartofmadeline
origamiaround
s-u-f-j-a-n-s-t-e-v-e-n-s
titsay