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1926
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IP:
A shoot fused to my forehead leads the way of data.
Information races itself to paint a blank cortex
with riddles so enigmatic a cerebellum sits baffled.
I sit as these syringe tipped fingers tickle a thought.
Pumps a mind with pollutants only to later kiss its wounds,
Needle tips dripping with toxins. I smile and nod, none the wiser.
Sick in the head yet assume nothing of its gradual conquer.
Its of my own, unaware the fact im battling this munchowsers.
The words of this world thump through a canal
ever so rapid, this waterway caves and a self is starved.
An Identity resides sheltered within a house of cards,
picking up the Pieces Of Life every time these voices call.
Backstroking through the Morbid Mortar that is Another,
Im Stuck... Lost in a thought not of my own choosing.
I don't even want it there. A Fucking Nat To The Tranquil Mind!
The Constant Buzzing Tearing Away Each Layer Of Membrane.
Licking The Raw Skull Of Individuality Before Self Can Even Mend It, Until...
The Bones Too, Turn To A Tongue... As They're No Longer There.
All this anguish, all this... Nothing,
all of this, Someone Else, locked within my head.
From the wires to me extends a generation,
the little black box throwing its every last image to me
simply to be fumbled... Gaining another past for View.
Under its spell... So much such my actions not even my own.
The manic struggle to become free reverts to a repetitive nod.
The pendulum of another's desire, my neck divides forward to back.
Before I, the bastard Stereotype...
Parts two lips to let Mother Stereo gain legs and carry my life.
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