Break The Chains And Dance

Loves dart. Changing hearts and Psalm blah blah. Breaking free of your mother’s curse, you should take my hand and walk with me through the fields of corn and the desert of the real. Parting your hair, I’ll show you the wonders others dare not face. They follow the rules, and bow down to the system with complete devotion. Oh the reservoirs of shit they have in their hearts. Utter garbage, placed on pedestals and worshiped with every breath they can muster. The masses who adore plastic faith. The hunger for normality, for pitiful acceptance. Paint your face and blend in. Become part of the machine. Just another cog, that’s what you are. Just another someone, hiding away from the finelines of life. Hand in hand, head down and silently praying that the eyes of those in charge never find you out. Live a lie, submerge yourself in middle-class obscurity. Buy things to give yourself some meaning. Love someone to make yourself feel less lonely. Never take risks, fit in with obedience. Archives of the same. No such thing as honesty. No such thing as a truth. Mirror others. No identity. Suckle on the breast of mortality. Deadened with fistfuls of shiny gold.

So take my hand, and let me show you a landscape of madness and freedom. Let’s explore outside the walls of the mundane, for that’s where our hearts long to be. Down by the river, with water splashing our feet. The angels that swim beneath the surface, waving at us as we look within. Floral patterns on your dress, moving like snakes, hissing as my hands slide around your curves. Fingers, tracing words upon your breasts. Poetry, dancing over your flesh. Squeezing tightly, my secrets are gifted without doubt. If you accept the language I speak, everything will soon become clear.

Breaking chains. Leaving behind those who lack magic. Perseverance, going at it tooth and nail when hope is so dim. It takes sacrifice. It takes guts. All those lonely nights. All those margins of time when you existed only with yourself. The world turned. Others partied. Others fucked. But you kept yourself hidden. You were growing away from prying eyes. You were learning the mysteries of the unseen. Discovering unspeakable wonders. Others gave up. They relinquished dreams for a comfortable existence. They settled for less. They became part of acceptable society. Part of the machine. But you refused. You embraced the silence. The isolation. And now you burn. Burning with words and salvation. The road is long. The darkness is cruel. But if it means that much to you, you’ll do it. You’ll do it because it’s what you are. Because it’s what you’re made of.

What do you love? What dreams do you entertain when no one else is around? Do you dream of performing repeated actions? To carry out tasks making money for others? Or maybe you dream of buying fast cars and holidaying in glitzy locations with bankers and well dressed businessman? In my dreams, my words spread a truth amongst the people. They offer a glimpse into a new future. Alternate realities merging. Horror and beauty becoming inseparable as the the lonely plague lovers stand up and make themselves heard. I dream of becoming an entity. A force extending beyond mere flesh and bone. The power of words. Of belief. Dangerous, and dripping with sex. Desire and lust, painted red. Red, like the colour of her lips. And tasting of alcohol. Every mouth I kiss, tasting of fine white wine. Every mind I infect, alive and free of restriction. Break the chains. Break the walls. Plant seeds of creation, and watch as one day, they grow into everything you ever believed in and more

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