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Another commodity to fetishize,
Another fetish to commodify,
Another gray area that lies and hides in the forest behind……
These black and white parameters,
The sickest of all the black hearts,
A heart attack in that little white lie.

It’s not that simple
It was never that simple

Oh the fake profound statements of anti-material,
From those who would give their limbs to be something of material,
To take part in the never ending continuum; space and time,
To take part in the world falling apart,
The beautiful gravity which we glorify.

And they move on gracefully,
Speak of grace and God,
Put God and Grace in a movie,
To buy them a place in the good graces of the Gods,
That align these Walled Streets,
The ones they will never occupy,
They set the parameters,
Blacking out on their white lies.

It’s disgusting…
It’s black and white,
It’s never gray,
I just want to hide in the gray,
I just want to escape.

But the commodity I crave the most,
Is the approval and love of human beings,
Yet all I want to do,
Is escape from the human beings,
And all I want….
Is the world on a string,
To own everything,
Yet all I want,
Is to take that string,
And burn it until it has no breath,
Until whoever owns it turns white and whispers in the black of night,
That this is all a white lie.

I want it all,
Yet I want nothing,
I want to be happy,
Yet I don’t know if happiness exist,
When you want everything yet nothing,
It just seems like there’s a paradox in that bliss.

I’m hiding behind the trees again,
In this moment I realize,
That nothing means anything,
And if I ran,
What would the reaction be,
Probably a bunch of people,
Using my flight for sympathy,
As a way to fill their own needs,
A way to get the same kind of love the endless malls give them,
I’m just a commodity,
I’ve become what I hate,
I’ve become what I love,
So I just drift,
And keep searching,
For something that will make me feel,
Like I’m drowning.

Inside the black and the white,
I cannot tell you even the smallest white lie,
Every night I wait until you are asleep,
Then I begin to softly cry,
Until the emotion overtakes me,
And I have to go outside,
I sneak behind the contaminated swimming pools,
Beneath the polluted walkway,
Into the woods,
Where no houses light my way,
And in that moment,
My pale white skin is swallowed….

By utter blackness….
And my tears never stop,
But I feel a little more clean,
And I can’t see a damn thing,
But I can look at myself again,
Another paradox,
I sleep until 5 AM and then run to you,
I’m by your side smiling when you wake in the morning.

What parasite will this site lead me to become host to,
A radio host who eyes are covered in coal,
A politician preaching the benefits of unlimited capital,
A tank in the middle of a war for tanks of oil,
Or someone who spirals out of control.

Will I become black and white,
Or will I continue to cry,
Because I can’t live in the gray.

I come to that forest again,
But this time I swallow my tears and launch into a grin,
And I chop down the trees,
With a sadistic laugh,
Just so I can see the black and white,
The polluted pools to the west and the mansions to the east,
So I can become what I loathe and love,
So I can become numb to anything but our fantasy.

It’s never that simple.



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