is all of the the poetry/lyrics/writings that i felt good enough to hang onto.
so read and enjoy. or hate. or feel indifference. or don't read at all.
they're only really there to fuel my raging ego.
iBoy
-x-
Saturday 29 September 2007
kick it to this.
I stand again, in my room
smashing up my record collection
the fragments falling around my feet
pick it up, kick it to this
I'll stitch it back together to find a new sound
to fit the myriad ways in which it changes
and billows around me
pick it up, kick it to this
in the streets, millions gather.
in the streets, millions gather.
pick it up, kick it to this.
pick it up, kick it to this.
smashing up my record collection
the fragments falling around my feet
pick it up, kick it to this
I'll stitch it back together to find a new sound
to fit the myriad ways in which it changes
and billows around me
pick it up, kick it to this
in the streets, millions gather.
in the streets, millions gather.
pick it up, kick it to this.
pick it up, kick it to this.
unreality.
unreality: a means of escape.
a self-fulfilling prophecy.
the means of my unreality control my existence.
i over anaylse and learn to justify belief.
the systems which control me, trap me.
the safety nets which protect me, enslave me.
the panopticon has been birthed
whether accidental
or feudal
is inconsequential
this reality is painful - the scrutiny unbearable
the cathode narcissus is here to be seen by all
a freak show of addiction - WITHOUT needles
the junkies of this generation are socially accepted
we are addicted to norms
my chains are invisible, but yet, they hold.
my cell is of my own creation.
i choose to live this sheltered life of inconsequence.
i choose to be invisible.
because i am afraid.
a self-fulfilling prophecy.
the means of my unreality control my existence.
i over anaylse and learn to justify belief.
the systems which control me, trap me.
the safety nets which protect me, enslave me.
the panopticon has been birthed
whether accidental
or feudal
is inconsequential
this reality is painful - the scrutiny unbearable
the cathode narcissus is here to be seen by all
a freak show of addiction - WITHOUT needles
the junkies of this generation are socially accepted
we are addicted to norms
my chains are invisible, but yet, they hold.
my cell is of my own creation.
i choose to live this sheltered life of inconsequence.
i choose to be invisible.
because i am afraid.
i put the gun in your hands.
through the deepest ocean
and weakest skies
i will find you
and i will make you see
when you stare at me
with your cross-hair eyes
there is more to believe
just stick-up, kid
i will find you
and i will make you believe
when you stare at me
with your cross-hair eyes
under the power-lines
find who you are
i will find you
and you will make me bleed
when you stare at me
with your cross-hair eyes
circling reality
believe in me
choose to see
crash into circumstance
to find a destiny
a course of action
to relieve the tension
target ME
strip ME
waste ME
use ME
destroy ME
with your cross-hair eyes
and weakest skies
i will find you
and i will make you see
when you stare at me
with your cross-hair eyes
there is more to believe
just stick-up, kid
i will find you
and i will make you believe
when you stare at me
with your cross-hair eyes
under the power-lines
find who you are
i will find you
and you will make me bleed
when you stare at me
with your cross-hair eyes
circling reality
believe in me
choose to see
crash into circumstance
to find a destiny
a course of action
to relieve the tension
target ME
strip ME
waste ME
use ME
destroy ME
with your cross-hair eyes
this is NOT a TEST.
Grey-faced, hypodermic people surround me - leeches waiting to suck their life through a tube, intravenously cleansing their mind & body. Walls close in, nearer every heartbeat even holding my breath refuses to stop this rushing paranoia.
Distilling my life to the most singular quantity of supply and demand may seem blasé or careless, but it is pure, wanton lust and desire that has brought me thus far and surely this which will drive me onwards. In deconstructing and simplifying to the point of pure need I have successfully removed all forethought, malice, social context and perfidious nature from my existence. Within the circles I move, there is no such thing as interfacing or original thought.
They surround me, these creatures - slaves to their own weakness or some sense of romanticism.
No such thing as post-modern irony or any pre-conceived facets of modern fashion such as the reverse-mullet. My world does not run on time conceivable to you or even to the junk sick ghosts surrounding me. I am not prey to either dealers or fashionistas. In an age where individuality is a group concept, I am truly free. Free to wallow in the pigsty or roost in the henhouse. Free to sink deep into the mire of my own perversions, or to rise above them. Nothing I do is calculated in terms of how I am received. I can be both truly deceptive but also crushingly honest. I can be whatever I choose whenever I choose to be.
They seem to draw closer by the second. Closer to me I can taste their stench; their unwashed clothes, their unkempt hair. I can see them breathing. I can FEELthem breathing.
I am the most dangerous of human misanthropes; not a drug dealer, or a con man not even a politician. I am the last human predator.
But even so, I am still assured of my own immortality. I will never die. I refuse to accept death as a viable alternative to my existence. I refuse to accept that my continuance is impossible. I will be the first immortal. And you will come to learn this.
Distilling my life to the most singular quantity of supply and demand may seem blasé or careless, but it is pure, wanton lust and desire that has brought me thus far and surely this which will drive me onwards. In deconstructing and simplifying to the point of pure need I have successfully removed all forethought, malice, social context and perfidious nature from my existence. Within the circles I move, there is no such thing as interfacing or original thought.
They surround me, these creatures - slaves to their own weakness or some sense of romanticism.
No such thing as post-modern irony or any pre-conceived facets of modern fashion such as the reverse-mullet. My world does not run on time conceivable to you or even to the junk sick ghosts surrounding me. I am not prey to either dealers or fashionistas. In an age where individuality is a group concept, I am truly free. Free to wallow in the pigsty or roost in the henhouse. Free to sink deep into the mire of my own perversions, or to rise above them. Nothing I do is calculated in terms of how I am received. I can be both truly deceptive but also crushingly honest. I can be whatever I choose whenever I choose to be.
They seem to draw closer by the second. Closer to me I can taste their stench; their unwashed clothes, their unkempt hair. I can see them breathing. I can FEELthem breathing.
I am the most dangerous of human misanthropes; not a drug dealer, or a con man not even a politician. I am the last human predator.
But even so, I am still assured of my own immortality. I will never die. I refuse to accept death as a viable alternative to my existence. I refuse to accept that my continuance is impossible. I will be the first immortal. And you will come to learn this.
the line between.
the line between
if a man is a handle which fits
many rights
then self-centredness is the SIN
of all his responsibilities
and unless he intends to bear them BOLDLY
it will be the cruelest of all
he who never has a sense of HIMSELF
must put HIMSELF right
to lose his mind he must imagine intensely
told in silence a lie tools injustice
BUT
a man's lies are often greatly good
if a man is a handle which fits
many rights
then self-centredness is the SIN
of all his responsibilities
and unless he intends to bear them BOLDLY
it will be the cruelest of all
he who never has a sense of HIMSELF
must put HIMSELF right
to lose his mind he must imagine intensely
told in silence a lie tools injustice
BUT
a man's lies are often greatly good
papyrus.
papyrus
falling backwards through words
back to the blank page
the open space
the promise of more
the cathersis of creation
falling backwards through words
back to the open book
the green field
the moment of truth
the catharsis of creation
but still the ink runs dry
the sentences falter
the emotions run high
inside this prison of papyrus and ink
i am free
inside this prison of papyrus and ink
i am free
falling backwards through words
back to the blank page
the open space
the promise of more
the cathersis of creation
falling backwards through words
back to the open book
the green field
the moment of truth
the catharsis of creation
but still the ink runs dry
the sentences falter
the emotions run high
inside this prison of papyrus and ink
i am free
inside this prison of papyrus and ink
i am free
trademark.
trademark
as a being of pure light i stand
with the sands of time on my left
rivers and bridges flash by me
in the sense of time i see myself
standing tall as with the rest of my race
i feel the lies, i see the tricks
i know the time, the fear, the pure air
i see through masks
i hunt for truth
in the sea of uncertainty
grabbing for rope, for shore
the search for truth is never over
we all stand tall
like pillar steeples
we all fly high
the children of mother earth
but question:
how do you choose to use your wings?
_ _ _ _ _
this is mine:
the will
the way
the truth
the light
this is ours:
the will
the way
the truth
the light
but how much of our birthright has been stolen
and how many of our gifts have we
IGNORED
MISPLACED
SOLD ON?
_ _ _ _ _
why swallow what you are told to believe
by the people who assume to know
what is good for you
believe in yourself
to choose to know what you learn
knowledge is not a closed book
or a secret society
LOVE is knowledge
TRUTH is knowlege
LIFE is knowledge
trust yourself to let go
to float, free form
as was intended
immerse yourself in words
immerse yourself in sounds
we all walk the line
we all know fear
we all know the past
so why do we not learn?
we stand in line like mechanical men
waiting to be told
WHAT TO DO.
WHO TO BELIEVE.
WHAT TO THINK.
should we not question motives?
grow. believe. question. answer. teach. learn.
see the past. see the future.
believe that we have the will and power to change
uplift your consciousness and
help uplift the consciousness of the
ENTIRE. FUCKING. WORLD.
we busy ourselves with hate and love
but never think to QUESTION
when we are told:
JUST DO IT.
LIFE.LOVE.DREAMS.MONEY.VIOLENCE.SEX.CONTROL.BELIEF.TRADEMARK !
as a being of pure light i stand
with the sands of time on my left
rivers and bridges flash by me
in the sense of time i see myself
standing tall as with the rest of my race
i feel the lies, i see the tricks
i know the time, the fear, the pure air
i see through masks
i hunt for truth
in the sea of uncertainty
grabbing for rope, for shore
the search for truth is never over
we all stand tall
like pillar steeples
we all fly high
the children of mother earth
but question:
how do you choose to use your wings?
_ _ _ _ _
this is mine:
the will
the way
the truth
the light
this is ours:
the will
the way
the truth
the light
but how much of our birthright has been stolen
and how many of our gifts have we
IGNORED
MISPLACED
SOLD ON?
_ _ _ _ _
why swallow what you are told to believe
by the people who assume to know
what is good for you
believe in yourself
to choose to know what you learn
knowledge is not a closed book
or a secret society
LOVE is knowledge
TRUTH is knowlege
LIFE is knowledge
trust yourself to let go
to float, free form
as was intended
immerse yourself in words
immerse yourself in sounds
we all walk the line
we all know fear
we all know the past
so why do we not learn?
we stand in line like mechanical men
waiting to be told
WHAT TO DO.
WHO TO BELIEVE.
WHAT TO THINK.
should we not question motives?
grow. believe. question. answer. teach. learn.
see the past. see the future.
believe that we have the will and power to change
uplift your consciousness and
help uplift the consciousness of the
ENTIRE. FUCKING. WORLD.
we busy ourselves with hate and love
but never think to QUESTION
when we are told:
JUST DO IT.
LIFE.LOVE.DREAMS.MONEY.VIOLENCE.SEX.CONTROL.BELIEF.TRADEMARK !
girls who play guitars
the lazy mornings that separate the days in which we slave away for no good reason are the best. that extra hour in between the comfort of a sheet and a duvet are, quite franky, FTW.
i wonder sometimes if it's more than mere creature comfort? it's a worldwide phenomenon; not wanting to get up and out of bed. is there somekind of ingrained darwinian imperative in us hating the separation between us and the nearest we can ever experience to a womb-like state?
it's a miracle that babies either don't have sentience in the womb or can't remember it after they are born. if people could compare their incubation to their current lives i hate to think what would happen to the suicide rate.
Me transmitte sursum, Caledoni!
lol
iBoy
i wonder sometimes if it's more than mere creature comfort? it's a worldwide phenomenon; not wanting to get up and out of bed. is there somekind of ingrained darwinian imperative in us hating the separation between us and the nearest we can ever experience to a womb-like state?
it's a miracle that babies either don't have sentience in the womb or can't remember it after they are born. if people could compare their incubation to their current lives i hate to think what would happen to the suicide rate.
Me transmitte sursum, Caledoni!
lol
iBoy
Friday 28 September 2007
ditto?
I just witness something horrible.
An interview was just conducted on national TV with Beth Ditto, the frontzilla (lol) of popular band The Gossip. She is apparently a spokeswoman for Modern Feminism and an avdocate of 'larger sized' women. None of this bothers me. I'm not even bothered by the fact that her band SUCKS. However, I draw the line at this:
"You hunt foxes. foxie? how do you plural that word?"
what.the.fuck?
iBoy
-x-
An interview was just conducted on national TV with Beth Ditto, the frontzilla (lol) of popular band The Gossip. She is apparently a spokeswoman for Modern Feminism and an avdocate of 'larger sized' women. None of this bothers me. I'm not even bothered by the fact that her band SUCKS. However, I draw the line at this:
"You hunt foxes. foxie? how do you plural that word?"
what.the.fuck?
iBoy
-x-
out come the wolves
this will be less interesting than either you or I could ever imagine. I'm here to stay, so kick back and light up a cigarette if you are too. we can be faux intellectuals together - pass me that copy of 'Being and Nothingness' so I can pretend to read it too.
we lost our shadows years ago and we've spent all this time trying to find out how to get them back. Never Never Land is a billion miles away and everything is moving so fast. I swear that we will hunt, find and destroy our heroes and idols.
I hope so, too.
Happy Blithering
iBoy.
we lost our shadows years ago and we've spent all this time trying to find out how to get them back. Never Never Land is a billion miles away and everything is moving so fast. I swear that we will hunt, find and destroy our heroes and idols.
I hope so, too.
Happy Blithering
iBoy.
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