Sunday, October 25, 2015

show them meat.

it does not surprise me that those who surround me are satyrs. i may reproduce like there's no tomorrow but i'm no dumb bunny. i know how to make myself appear alert- and, on top of that, i see with eyes seeing into kaleidoscopes.
for a living, i gnaw off my rabbit foots. they regenerate. i gnaw them off each time they regenerate. facing my future, i understand that one day they will stop growing back.
i admit i have served as the biggest production of rabbit foots in the world. but nobody wants rabbit foot charms anymore. charm is a superstition to kids these days. they are paranoid. i cannot hide from this mutilation- children are the future.

let me tell you more about mutilation and loosely, the future.
a satyr once loosed from the woods by my house. he was shiny; a satyr made of metal- i.e., taken from the past and thickly pasted into a future setting. his stratum was unknown. he had to be put in a museum for this reason.

his name was tetsuo. he is drinking water in the museum. he drinks water to keep himself hydrated.

since being relocated into a museum, feral, lost-souled tetsuo has been permitted the opportunity of knighthood.
queen elizabeth- a polite gimmick who scoffs at my rabbit feet- liked tetsuo's music and invited him to be taught proper royal-family etiquette. she said after he was taught, she would invite him to all the parties all the elite are able to attend. tetsuo was welcomed by auto-tellers. tetsuo kissed the feet of the welcoming auto-tellers.
tetsuo did not have many choices. he was two different places at once, without a governing middle. he feels deprived of a middle among others who either have or are middles. he has something that seems genuinely unnatural. but the truth is, genetic mutations are becoming hot-spots for evolutionary change.
tetsuo, on the inside, grew envious of everyone aside himself. they were nature: many roses, many names.

*
there are people who profit from lies, people who profit from lying, and people whose lies are unprofitable: all three types, inner-city children. inner city children are bottom-feeders because they take money in a particular way in particular places instead of taking gradual steps toward taking that money in the way we're ordered to by a particular bigheaded-source...something elusive that's an uncle sam about itself.
sneakers and coats are marketed toward them (this is interchangable depending on where you come from and are now) by those who profit from the excess of lies off of others (wasps). if you want to be an inner-city youth, it's said, you have to wear what they say everyone else wears where you live. and you have to to do it the way you know how to do it. these are the woods tetsuo fled. he stabbed a guy, took his technology, and ran.

(tetsuo cont'd): i don't know what it is what has happened to us, but i'm not sure what propaganda reflects anymore. i see it behind so much- being real shady. i thought it was purely political. what are politics? politics are non-principles, i guess.
the reason we invest in the cover-up used to distract us from...from propaganda, i think...is because science is behind it. science sometimes takes risks for the sake of science alone, and gets stranded. it dusts itself off and continues forward with objectives set out on. these experiments are modulated by fallen scientists.
we are subject to being objectified in a culture thriving on excess- thingness. we are not unless we are things to each other. nothing is intimate any longer. this is sex: sex out in the open. sex is exhibition and its voyeurs.
in some ways, sex is bottom-feeding. it does nothing for us in the long run. i am violated by every act i've committed in order to maintain only the moment. the build-up is tremendous. i am going to have a heart attack one day. i need gratification now, or else i'm going to have a heart attack now. what other plants are like this?

i am a bottom feeder plant.

a bottom feeder plant is a plant that lives without remorse. if it weren't for bottom-feeders, we'd all be sociopathic.
it was once the case that sociopaths were rare. now, it's a booming craze- bigger than the beetles. in order to be knighted one must be sociopathic; moving at the speed of the deterioration of the sky.
both bottom-feeders and sociopaths- that's the sum of everyone- have made so many mistakes in their lives. they numb themselves from thinking about it because the marketing department takes their thought-products and forces them to fit into habits- patterns not yet cut off.
patterns go on repeating themselves until they're dead, like how we are.
an intuitive device is limited to the sound "click" today. that's what tetsuo sounds like when he moves- click click click click click; no time for clacks. we would be no-where without our spastic twitching.
tetsuo was born, i guess, of this. although he was knighted, he had somewhat of a right to wear expensive coats and sneakers not marketed toward him. he once didn't have anything and it's pretty disrespectful of yourself when you cut yourself off from the first half of your rags-to-riches story.
he didn't solicit things until he was knighted, though he didn't have to do that. he lived in a museum and things were handed to him, begged of him to be taken. the body was lost to militarization.