Immersed in the curtain of night as the moon illuminates the bed of sand and a blanket of clouds, can we finally slip into the sublime experience of unity with ourselves, our actions and the mystical forces of nature. Bringing with it security as the realization of the infinity of the New years’ possibility. An exciting year and hopefully one of refinement that solidifies the strength of character we strive to obtain. This fantasy of stupefaction through art and it’s representation of our perception of a life that sings its haunting song the products born from passion. Silence as four brethren ask the world to stop the passage of time and fuel the raging fires agitated in their attempt to immortalize the thrill they felt in being alive in this tense and volatile age in our society that spirals downward into ignorance. What became of the intelligence needed for the accountability that has spawned from humanity’s consequences?
Are we to resort to using torture as a tool for motivation? As we debate the ethical answers to unethical questions.
Is the glass half full or half empty? The answer; neither, because the general consensus is we cannot even remember where the fuck we put our drinks!? Lemon squeezed is favour over Curry powder as fuck fast defines these anarchists who embody flash punk. The running commentary provided by bitches so HARDCORE that when they fuck a man they turn the tables with the slapping of your ass, as you scream their name to the heavens and beg for mercy.
These are indeed dark times with most adolescent men lacking the depth perception required to avoid the fists constantly marking contact. As the calamity of their frail features enhanced by make-up are smashed. Allowing these hyper-sensitive boys to relish in their righteous tears with honesty for the first time in their superficial sycophantic lives. Yes, life doesn’t give you mutant powers and if these fickle fudge packers can’t design a mechanized suit of armour they are inevitably destined for extinction. With the polar opposite being the drug-addled skate lackey lurking down the isles of the more shady retail outlets seeking nothing but a way to kill time as they harass unsuspecting salesmen with their queries into the location of the “thingies” that has the “stuff” advertised on T.V. A circus ensues as they lure the patsy into being courteous whilst they circle their prey and push common decency to its limit, aimlessly instigating mindless confrontation.
So as we usher in this dawn of a new generation which might shed the skins imposed on a youth seeking a cause? Resolutions should not crumble and by true definition-be shallow. For in what are both the first decades of the 2 Millennia that might very well be the last in our cosmos may see. So should all the soothsayers and Mayans are right-is this where you want to be when AND IF you meet your maker? You need to say FUCK THE NOISE and jam to the station that will guide you in the right direction should the world as we know it, end in the coming years. The time is now to stop pleading ignorance and instigate your accent to brilliance. So what’s the plan?