Plastics 7-12-14 Maxwell Dexter With no warning, the flood of memories shoots and starling right in my brow. For the completion is here within the old men and their shared sad eyes. I am in fear for what may be at my steps, drunk problems I thought as I clenches the rail. As if the rail were serpent, readily to slip away easy as cheap but affordable lavender soap. Making me falling like doh in these 164th steps, the steps that reverberates the whole column. Infested crowds give me the hea-doh! sulks and talking zombies, I am in fear of falling to doh. Now I continue down the flights with shaken hands. That hopeless feeling when you keep all the high school and college souvenirs like some aged losers. Cold feet and pale noted and that just end the good mood. I am in fear for hair-shaving conformists and their innocence. So plastics therefore processed humans meats to the society factory to the conformists offices or to the stint! Doh for my heart skip nay my heart but my logic! I am in fear for the steps that will pull me, inevitable and not organic. Not fresh nor is the tissues but for genetically modified foods and but also for Monsanto! And if I may, the infamous back pain pills popping that turns their all sweet high heaven. Targeting me suchlike imp in a way, Im crowded by the ads and false mentors. False modern children for they are in the hands of droids who cannot do yoga. I am in fear just like the shoat I am. So drowned in agony, the steps is almost complete. I come to seek the tool, the tools to move forward in every singularity. Every singularity walks as single beings together, I am in fear for everybody is desperate. Oh ironically how the desperate we feel but continue? Is it the illness crutches we all walk? A cry for attention? for in God name we are all lost here. Guilty for our wrongdoing, but continue? In other words, were all lost here Lost is we, you and everybody we knows. Being that harvested out I am finally off the steps doh. Plastics cult shook me as if Im not like them the face that shook the crowd. threats and violence always follow my every steps in the beautiful but monster head of mine. Contemplated I giggled with my broken voice, I know I am truly free and always will be. Wherein imminent future, we see an old man sitting outside the green lush of dirty but honest organic farm by the seaport. Tears ran down his wrinkled cheeks for he is completed but not fully. As he whispers I dont wanna die And for that I am projected to be in fear for what ever would come.
Posted on: Sun, 13 Jul 2014 03:22:52 +0000
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