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Fallen on deaf ears

It was all too much brown. I stared at it long enough for me to understand that there wasn't anything much in it but the same old things over and over, and because of that I personally learned how to manage my own advocacies tighter than I previously would, meaning that I wouldn't have had the same amount of results if I only pursued the more drastic solutions. I have already fallen way to deep into that gaping hole, no wonder the people you see are nothing more but just puppets to the trade and the whatnot, and of course that includes the people I personally know as well. In many theoretical ways, I myself may be a puppet, but does a puppet really think?

On the other side of the brown was the radiating but slowly fading powers of the yellow of the sun, understandably so since I started gazing at that massive ball ten past six in the evening, and the wind recalls an uneasy whisper to the spring heat, something that I no longer would like to look forward to as much as possible. Within that realm of the ideas I concocted up something vile and sinister, and it's not normally the case for the Peter, Paul and Mary's of the world, but for me what I stand for and stand up against is the natural stream of indignation ever evident wherever a person may sit or stand or crawl or lie, that somehow that choice has totally been lifted, and the democracy was all just a bunch of bitch ass lies to control what is rightfully and politically correct. That's just absurd. I'm a human being too, I feel, I fuck, I shit. You may not fuck but you can't entirely blame me for that. You most likely are a loser, pathetic and squealing for all the right and wrong treatments which already has long been spoonfed equally amongst every single one, and you, who, being in that... condition..., makes absolutely no sense if only to me, just because... really, there is no because. The motion of these ideas revolve around the psychedelic, fickle nature of the blue. Of which none have managed to overcome. Of which really is neutral in all bounds.

Just when I think that I lowered myself enough for everyone to bear, there comes another one to top it all off, and one that calls for immediate suspension of everything critical, just because nobody is able to accept or let go of their own convictions. Something has to give in, but it's easier said than done. Within the sluts that formed a circle were the more unconventional sort that lack a certain aspect called talent, and now everybody pays the price of having to bear that guilt, for they are the bulwark of closet shit and big, black cocks which quite frankly is none of my fucking concern at all. These are what constitutes blue. Blue for the same reason that it acts the same way as the method intervenes, meaning there is no immediate concern for the party involved in the predicament, but for the same reason that lies within their hardfill convictions that totally demands utmost satisfaction, then the others have to pay the ultimate disaster of having to unify the leftover nuggets in the table, moreso complicating further the initial pavement for the demise. If only one or two sons and bitches would just step forward and with a clean intention just say 'fuck yeah' in front of all the live audience then no one would have strained each other's vein and cause hysteria amongst everyone. And then it blinked. And I stared. It was no longer there, well, it was but it's always blinking in and out, so to speak. In the middle I have no right of intervention. The pacifist gets the worst treatment of all. It's totally useless and irrelevant. The individual voice will prevail, though only to one specific individual, ironically the one that introduces it. And once the red has finally shown its face to establish order, it will sadly befall on to deaf ears. Call me misogynistic, but fuck...

The wheels behind the white chassis begin to turn, and the red is dead hot into following its trails of defeat. Overcoming the inglorious nature of the probable cause would be the next step to take but for now the main concern, for me anyway, is to just jump into my own subjugated opinions, something I have recently and obviously been lacking honestly. Only because the burn before the freeze does not really fully justify the effort, and it somehow frustrates my nature, their nature, or some sort of internal switch that needs to stand up and say, 'Yes, no, fuck that, you cunt, I love you.' What happens is that it goes back and forth like broken vinyl, playing three seconds of a dumb lyric repeatedly to the point of madness. And now the red destroys all the others, but none of it demands victory, for there was without a single ounce of effort involved, only shattered order led by a number of ghouls looking to satisfy their own pleasure and god-fucking-damn-it survival. Then the bright colour harnesses the essences of all the others, in-breaths both the positive and negative aspects of many things including compassion, beauty, and pomposity. It is no longer evil, for whatever the shit becomes turn into the ideal norm no matter how twisted and convoluted the images are. There will be no more for discussion, the point has been made. All I have to do is sit and relax, as much as I can, and swallow it deep into my pride, blow a middle finger up Marquis de Sade's ass, and have a pint of Corona once all has been said and done.

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