what the hell am I doing? its all just noise white noise we are just black and white static on an out dated television screen, people hate us but they cant take their eyes off the screen, we put them in an unwanted trance. we want to be high definition colour tv but were just stuck in between reality and imagination, take a look at the skeleton boys and zombie girls stuck in the space between living and dead take a look at the non binary angels fighting to be heard and all the demons fighting for it all to be silent for just a moment.
we kill all the spiders in messy attics filled with dead forgotten memories, we kill the spiders who are just trying to survive in their own world, we kill them because we are selfish and terrified creatures, we let meth addicts, heroin junkies and cocaine snorters rot in the ditches they call home because it was "their own decision" they were stuck in a maze and the only clue to the way out was in man made ways to escape.
we are human but that title is at the low part of the pyramid what will happen when the safety strings are cut?
we are just noise and dead air mixed in a broken radio, someone is going to lower the volume and we will all be silent and some will blame the skeleton boys and zombie girls, some will shout back at the non binary angels and add to the voices in the demons head, trying to shift the blame as far away from themselves as they can, but they don't understand the flickering pixels on the black and white tv screen are all of us, all the people who scream and shout, and all the people who are silent and just watch we are all just NOISE.
we are all leaking pens, leaking faucets and leaking wrists. we are broken we are not whole, we will continue being broken until we find something we think is worth trying to fix ourselves for, but it never works, it doesn't matter how much we fuck love drink or smoke our faucets will always leak.
skeleton boys try carving their bones trying still to be skinnier, zombie girls crawl deeper into their grave to try to get farther away from life, the old rusty crackling television sets we all exist ins remotes and buttons stop working someone has to pull the plug, our radios will eventually just be silent, no more static, we will continue trying to find some purpose even when there is nothing left but bone dust, we will continue even after we've dug ourselves so far down our hands are burning, we will try to fiddle with the buttons even after the television sets are melted down and re used and when we realize it's no use we will try to find the others those who didn't totally lose their minds those who realized skin and bones is too skinny, those who realized six feet deep is too deep, those who realized that when the buttons don't change the channel anymore it's no use trying to get the static to flicker back into what we call life.
it's all meaningless words and empty sentences, it's all fiction that won't make an impact on the world, we try to change some things that are unchangeable with squibbles on paper, to change the world you have to act punch all the bad people in the face instead of writing in a clever way of how you would punch them in a field of fucking daisies. do it instead because words don't change anything actions do.
people throw burning cigarettes in the forest, the glow from them burn the trees until theyre just imprints of ashes on the dark ground and burnt skeletons of wood. the ravens cry because their homes are ruined and children poisoned, the smoke closes off the sky and all the vermin suffocate.
