romanced by the sweet aroma of
gasoline which is overlooked by t
he digitalized conformists who co
mply only to facades shaded upon
by the blinded, horrible, corrupte
d business man who smiles an inf
inite smile, punching a hole throu
gh your intestines. he laughs at yo
ur lack of nutritional supplements,
then progresses to drink his coffee
and absorbs his newspaper like a r
abies infected sponge. i am not so e
asily amused by the shhiit that flo
ws from these “near-death”, “lost-
in-this-mouse maze”, “trappe
d in this consciousness of con
trolled and utterly useless v
oid of substance.” you leave
me ISOLATED like the B
UG that LINGERS AROU
ND YOUR BREAD THAT
IS CONSUMED IF NOT B
ETTER CONSUMED BY
WHAT “THEY” CONSI
DER DEAD OBJECTS!
ATTACK!
ATTACK!
ATTACK!!
ATTACK!!
ATTACK!!
ATTACK!!!!
I WILL NEVER GIVE IN!
AS LONG AS I BREATHE
IN THEN EXHALE FABRI
CATED, DOGMATIC-DESI
GNED AND RESTRAINED
POWER!.................CUT THE S
TRINGS. CUT THE STRINGS OF T
HE PHANTOM PUPPET MASTER*.
i can help you…….cut the strings…
*aka The Demiurge
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