I think way too much

well we turned wrenches til we drew blood then spun once around again
the battles that we have won hard not to say we are losing it
I'm pestilent and part of the problems we all drunkenly speak of
you are just a strolling bomb that I had seen before

some dreams they exhaust us to where we all want to give up
you're hands get cramped and you think you cant put pressure on anything anymore
poisoned by lead we can barely hold the world up struggling ankles draggin' all across the floor
it hurts just to look in the mirror thinking everything that is made for you
one and all one and the same we got ideals, ideas, and our families so strange
we got the dandelions in the summer time floating away whitening things as they rise

some day they'll have glass houses and stones but you know we have to pay
dark trees talk to me and they don't have much left to say
I'm losing my particles in the spaces in between
try makin' my mind again but it's tuggin at the sleeve
you know it's colder when the snow has frozen over top
common nature is the enemy and god I think I'll just float on
given up on a residence this bottom mirrors the top
stylize your life around everything your eyes have caught

we wasted all our lonely hearts
walking from home to work to love to art
seen a bit too much of dirty earth now just stare at stars
we see straight angles splitting up from the floor
slanted lines just pantomiming what we hope they are
and old gargoyle got a hopeless standing post
these spirits don't scare they'll stare you in the eye
lets untie these splintering ropes

stage 1:
you give up on everything
stage 2:
you realize what is important
stage 3:
invest in reality
stage 4:
wade through faded moments in living eternity
endless aggression and want for more
cynicism debate and introspect to the core

The Thinking Primate and His Ubiquitous Lacks

Act !

a man tunes a piano in an empty music store. The store is filled with memorabilia from early 20th century American music. It smells like fragrant wood polish and books. Light enhances the elegant smoothness of the instruments on display.
He hits the E key and picks up that perfect tune. Man that is nice. The strings inside bounce with him as his foot pedals in time. Moving quickly into a sprawling melody. Fading daylight shines in and hits him just right. What a good sounding machine.
In his face his soft happy stare is sticking. It's glitching and jerking to the side. His fingers can't hit the keys right. The sound of wood creaking shimmers with the rest of the sound waves growing in a disjointed harmonic way. Strings stretch to points unintended and snap. They shoot up from the still resonating black piano like snakes with quivering bent metal sounds. His face is withering piece by piece while paying no attention to the wound creatures snapping at him from inside the beast holding him there. He glitches to skeletal mass and muscular membrane while retaining demeanor and class. The white keys smear with blood and fingers slip off in spastic intervals as slick tissue and smooth bone try to play with the same intensity as before.

ACT@

Howl beneath your tired eyes. Dream quiet and hopeful. I wonder what happened to those people who felt those ways back in the days who displayed so much taste. I know someone out there is the same way. The same bold hearts and long eyelashes. Kissing on cheeks.
So many fakes impostors. You can't hold onto something. You can't help anyone all the time, or expect to be helped in everything. Be silent behind closed eyes. Watch the picture frames light up and disappear back into your mind.

ACT#

10946
(F)

27000 = 30×30×30 = 3³×10³ Approximately the number of days in an expected lifetime for most readers of this page

(F)


ACT$

Faux sleep and sickness. Faux need and posession. Fake care and admiration.
Build and build. Rate yourselves and everyone else. Buy, buy, bye.
Our names don't carry any weight, but our bodies and minds do. I guess we can never have enough.