"Behind every system, behind every rule stands a corpse and laughs. You can't tell me who I should sleep with. I don't work for wages. My life is a revolution... My life is a beautiful life... What you call freedom, I call waste... I will continue to love my own voice. If everyone becomes me, everything will collapse."

Bruno K. Öijer

Tuesday, February 26, 2013

Disrupted Mental Facilitation




When it happens, you will know it. From down under. Between - momentum. Tight.  Like giving up something sinister. Body convulsing. PUSH ME!
Race from right to wrong. I feel tamed. Not in the nature. AGE.
Starving for race against the world. Striving for that kick. Open eyes, enlarged veins. 
Brighter, torn apart vision. Voices in the background. I want to be - NOT!

Breathing. Heavily. Sound delay. Fast forward. I am in particles and coming back again. Burning fingertips and air passages.  Intake. Intake. Intake. INTAKE!
Decisions. Decisions. My fairy burned her face off. Tore the skin off and happily observes the redness of flesh grounded MEAT!

Can you just put a penny in! Twist and turn and up and down again we go. Shinny surface.  No more underwater glamour. I want it raw and spoiled. Just like it was before. With screaming beasts in the wrong side of reason.  NO MORE FUNERLAS!  4 sizes smaller and still puking. They say I have problem. I tell that there is a reason for being. Just. I do not want a number!

RUSH! Can you see clearly now? I do not sleep anymore. Just keep up, keep up and RUN! No seat reservation, no middle names. No airfare. No room reservations. RUN! Just RUN!

When inner body reaches the DNA deadline we all will be in a new database. I slave for systems and postcodes. For lack of temper and overpriced medication. So PUSH ME! Cigarette burn marks and trashed floors.  The outside façade has nothing to do with the inner manifestations. Tie it up and put it your mouth. Swallow and pull. 10 amendments of disrupted mental facilitation. I am not from your tribe!

There is no air and no water, no political comfort, no social life, no love and no more hate, there is no being and there is no death. There is no absence and no present time comfort in being. There is no me. There is nothing to cherish. No solitude and no company. NO SELF AND NO YOU! There is no silence and no more noise. Where we stand – there is no ground!

In the purple room joined hands with no pulse. With knees on broken glass. Observing what is left . From breakfast to dinner. I am what you want me to be when you want me to be.  Put the song back on!







Good night and god bless,
Queen of Disorder
Sonia Dietrich