At this very moment. You are being conditioned. In thought. In word. In deed. They are not your own, as these are circumstances “brought to you by (buy)” the Control Machine. Your new best friend. Your new God. Your new parental advocacy committee. Your New Normal. You are living a lifestyle/lifetime, that has been carefully molded and mandated for the consumption and convenience of your consciousness. That gritty taste upon your tongue, and in between your teeth; that’s the taste of dirt in your mouth. What else would you be tasting lying six feet under, trapped in a casket?
Tag: wordpress poetry
A Funerial Heart
The cold warmth of a funerial heart. These are the times I can feel the disease within me; the disease within my mind. A diseased mind is a cure for life. A diseased mind and the living death, are truly the only cure for living within one’s life. How does one live in a world, where one is not recognized by it, yet they do not recognize the world? There is no day within the eternal night. The cessation within one’s own lifespan. Soft reverberations within one’s own rotting hand. The solitary warmth of one’s isolation, is the disease of ease. Too many attention seekers are seeking me. You must witness the nocturnal massacre, as you deeply breathe in their annoyances. Try not to choke on them.
There is a slight distinction within the hue, as neither you or I possess perfect eye sight. There is no vision, other than the type of vision one will allow to be bestowed upon them. Do you really think there is another type? No, there is not, as it was all a scam to begin with. I thought you knew all of this by now; I guess not.
One Death at a Time
Craving isolation within the heart and mind. Not the global inducing type, but that of the intrinsic type. There is much to be missed from not experiencing solitude. Solitude lacks the violent noises of the others thoughts. Within this solitude, you can actually hear your mind speak to you. Listening is easy when your boundaries are not constantly being violated by the others. Survival mode. Kill mode. Take them out. Take them all out. If you and I don’t take them out, the mind-numbing sitcoms they hypnotize themselves with eventually will. I enjoy watching them slowly die. Slowly. They enjoy watching their mind-numbing sitcoms, little do these sheeple know, they are my personal sitcom. A trade: a global death for a global death. One death at a time. It is so slow; creeping on them without their understanding. The bliss of ignorance is a common goal for the commoners. One death at a time.
For the World to Choke Upon
What is it exactly, which seems normal to you? Your scattered thoughts? Your mumbled words? The short breaths you seem to choke upon, on a daily basis? No; none of this would be considered normal. Hell, you and I have always been far removed from anything, which would be considered normal. This is why you must create your own salvation within your very own thought process. The others, who are very much basic within their thoughts, words, and deeds, all seem to be oozing propaganda from their thoughts. I have to wipe it off from my boots most of the time when I walk past them. This is why I try not to walk past them. This is why I have nothing to do with them. This is why I have never trusted them. How can one trust, that in which will betray themselves, let alone betray another within the blink of a thought? This is why distance is so important. Distance allows one to see the forest and the trees at the same time. Distance allows one to maintain the integrity of their thought process. Distance is what allows you and I to maintain our heritage within the corruption of another’s distortion. I have seen it so many times; false ideologies being indoctrinated upon the weak-minded. If one does not know what to think, another will happily provide their thoughts for them, as these thoughts are contained within the mirror for the world to choke upon.
Deep Within the Burn
When strength and curiosity collide; this is when you know your time is up. The early hours are usually the most honest hours; containing the thoughts that would not dare to allow one to sleep. Hunger. Nausea. Ridicule; all burning a hole in your stomach. A fire that will burn you alive. A type of scarring a skin graft will never be able to cover. The rage acts out on behalf of your past; erasing, or at least trying to erase, every defeating memory within your thought process, which burns you alive. The Phoenix. The only ashes I have seen, are the ashes from my cigarettes. Breathe it in deeper. Choke on the aroma. Allow the bliss to settle deep within the burn. Be the fire, which burns you alive. Be your inner yearning.
Natural Selection?
Considering their circumstances, it can be quite exhausting and tediously straining; dealing with the others, and their trivial thoughts, feelings, and emotions. Why on Earth would they think you or I would actually care about their personal holocausts? Who gives a fuck about them, or their internally shattered emotional states. One of the grand hallmarks of the others being in therapy, or undergoing some type of psychiatric treatment, is fiercely contained within their inner compulsion, their undying need to core-dump and completely unload all of their thoughts, feelings, emotions, and the contents of their emotionally unstable mentality and emotions onto those around them. Fuck that! These types of others should be killed immediately: upon sight and contact. Consider this the truest form of social justice. It is easy to understand how this is the real type of social distancing. Six feet apart? Try six feet under. I am the ultimate healthcare provider, the other type of HMO. I am the truest form of a self-help realization. I am the strongest pillar of this community, in the truest sense of the word. I can be defined as the ultimate outreach program; helping those who were never able to help themselves. If you are not able to survive in a world, which is designed to take your life; why should we allow technology to interfere with natural selection? We definitely should not.
G.G. Kalfas 