Manic Repression


nothing in the realms of my imagination compares to the soul sonic intoxication of collaborative ejaculation
my songs are a rolling declaration to the elation of the celebration of our relation,
it's a combination of dedication and explanation that comes from the appreciation of our
collaboration. and the determination of my imagination to epitomize my infatuation with procasti..............................................................................................nation,
the manifestation of interpretation, the annihilation of expectation,
the realization that we are all one vibration,the hallucination of a cosmic sensation
is the foundation of the transformation that will lead you to your location.

it's so cerebral when we're connected as equal that death seems more like a sequel
to the demise of the illusion of separateness that comes from coming together
you'll feel light as feather, conceiving to never sever,inside another you'll find forever. and you will never ever feel alone.
because feeling is the only thing your soul owns.
and when you're alone and cant find a home, let it be known that even if you're prone to groan remember your mind has been blown.
and that makes it worth it. you've felt your passions, disregarded fashions, and freed your mind from this destructive culture of slow demise
and make belive, forget everything and breathe, close your eyes and conceive. and if you reach originality fuck the fear of abnormality,let it
flow in to your reality, and you will achieve immortality,relinquish banality
.because new ideas are few and far between from dumb'd down sapien living in a dream,
but you can find a space so serene removed from the foe-drama's of the cultural machine,the obscene routine of being conceitedly mean,
to those that question what went before.to those fucking mother earth like a motherfucking whore, digging for more and for more.
i implore you to explore, because their must be more than law and war, and pointless cunts born to be ignored, with patter that bores.
so don't care anymore, just open the door, and the free flowing fathom of the fantastic fusion of feeling and believing
will diminish the authority of those who are deceiving. every thing is everything, the pauper is the prince, and the prince must be king.
so be to the earth what the earth is to you. because we are the earth, yet we have no clue. and so it is,was and to be,
that every living creature was made living free. till some daft ape invented philosophy. and now i am you and you are me.
in this catastrophic debauchery, of living in the present time, of man being blind, man surely isn't kind. it's a deep delusion
this separate illusion, so let your senses act as an umbilical chord toward feelings abroad. and let the majestic magnificence
of knowing it's a game, drive you monstrously euphorically cataclysmically insane.
when one day you realize that time began in the year.....................................................................?  

Manic Repression

fADINGfACE