Showing posts from September, 2012


Self-chatter is honesty
beyond social norms,
and it is madness.
Charity is madness,
we whisper it
at the echoes of potential most people become, and a voice beyond a chair is madness. Walking is madness, and we wish for the easy excellence in moving frames. Desire is sanity but pursing it is madness. Both fame and contentment are madness. Both anonymity and influence are madness. Sacrifice is madness. Consumption is genius. How many skinny-cow famine-years do we need to balance our BMI? Masses are mad. Individuals are mad. Interface is meaning. In truth, the personal is where this happens, madness can interact with madness. All else is broken limbs paralysis vomit and groggy dreamless sleep.

Written early Sept 2012. (not about the band)

Autonomy is a Prison

Dreams escape the skull
by waking and moving.

If you had the space
to stop and think
you'd see the seams
in the dreams
and need escape from the facade of internal interaction.
Fulfilment is a red herring of purpose. A broken filament passes no current and I cannot reach charge without someone else's choice hands.
Autonomy is a prison. Set the domino of the freedom of locking fingers, the pleasure of complications, and the liberation of obligations.
Dreamer, escape your pretence and live!
Written mid August 2012. Emphasising the importance of personal relationships, mutual belonging and self-sacrifice as what it is to be a person. Individual freedom as the goal of one's life is counter-productive, unhealthy and impossible as we are people, persons, and we belong together, making mistakes and making up, we are interpersonal beings.


Grace was not created,
it has always existed
within the divine,
and it started to heat up
when we started to need it.

There's broken voices,
yes bravado has banished tears
with dizzying toxins,
but these voices are broken
because someone broke them,
and there is no shame in that!

We're all hemorrhaging
from interpersonal capillaries
that have been severed at our skin.
We're getting tired
as we leek that red oxygenated liquid,
but there is still no shame in that!

And we all stumble through
these half finished streets
from one dilapidated lie of fulfilment
to the next,
this time choosing our own wounds
and exacerbating aged scars.

Yet grace is older than our broken choices
and it offers a change,
it is big enough to cover our stubbornness
and there is no shame in grace.

Written September 2012.
There is no shame in the things you cannot control.
Through grace there is a way to remove the shame of the things we can control.