March Of The Flies

Half truths and inner guts. Unassuming emptiness. The consequence of fantasy. The banality of evil. We thrill at will. We lay down the rules and watch them disappear with ease. No boundaries only frenzy. Changing faces. Masks. All surface no feeling. Suicide helpline. The soil of my mind. No other way to resolve these problems. Teething problems. Impulses and behaviours. Confessions regarding slipping states of mind. Self assured. Transgression through mediocrity. You know you’re right. You know every wrong. Two thousand years, crumbling since ’67. Intelligent lifeforms. Leaders of men. So it goes that a man isn’t a boy when he is. Trees not guns, but bullets for leaves still stands high. I am my mother. I’m fine like wine. Not apart and never together. There is no end. There is no beginning. The strangeness never was. It danced on the wind with every prayer. It spoke no words yet contained the sun and moon. A child’s perspective. Heat death. Flowers burn so easily. At any given time we are what we need to be. We lose ourselves and wipe away old identities. Absolute¬†philosophies. To die within yourself. To be reborn in a sphere of oneness. Torso to torso. Milky Way to Andromeda. Methodical communication. No trace of mythical origins. All power ready for the taking. Human tissue not an issue when faced with the coming of bombs. An endless fire stretching from navel to neck. A confession is out of the question. It presides over the garden of our birth. All versions of truth mirrored. All avenues living and breathing. All strands of time alive. Subculture and magazines. Cruising for attack. Sex in echoes. Because we can, we will. For no man is alone. No man ever feels as if he truly belongs. On the beach with existence on our shoulders. The thin line. The notion of nowhere to hide in the face of god. Grains of sand. A tiny speck of dust. The man in black, anonymous and everywhere. Each day he grows. Each moment somewhere not known. Come find me in the pines. Come play a game that sings our name so sweetly. It gives us meaning. And it gives us more pleasure than ever before. Rise with the flies. March forwards with eyes wide open.

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