Stain’d

sepia

 

Each individual is nothing on their own. Spirits that grow in the shade. Keep yourself hidden. Turn your back and stay within. Modern cities and integrity. The merchandising of memory. Brands to keep us slaves, to keep us safe from harm. Open up. Speak truths hidden from sight. Can’t release. Can’t find the words that will make it all right. Silence deafens in fields of snow. Fragments of places, of things that once happened. The city echoes for miles around. The roads that we always take placing us back at its heart. Songs of discovery. Lyrics to ease the passage to where we want to belong. The lightness of being in elevators. A loosened sense of gravity. Open up my lungs. Discover the meaning of my star-crossed skull. Bone covered portals, here since before here even existed. A well-paying job is easier than staying true to your dreams. It offers decadence. Something those with no meaning flock to like flies around shit. If this is your dream, then there’s no hope left. Grab the cash and run. Leave the unknown before you reach enlightenment. Gasp for air. Breathless by the side of the freeway. The early hours bring deliverance. They take us to the edges of what we want to know. A definition of loneliness. A sentence uttered far away from those who will never grasp what it’s like to suffer. Drab generation. Backwards always backwards going nowhere. Promise it all. Deliver plastic instead. Our contemporaries crave adoration, yet we piss on it like it were a disease. Satisfaction is irrelevant, all that matters is keeping the fire. So many times it’s lost. The key is to keep the child alive within. Peter Pan flying through the sky. Colours that only the young can taste. Be natural like a storm. Keep dreaming. Obsess over every last detail. Possess the madness of what you desire most.

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