IDK?

IDK? by Runaway Jim

   "Walking through the land of lawyers, businessmen, words, and money. A fucked up diamond mine coliseum built on top of where Chernobyl used to lay. Where everything is infected and the the bees are extinct so there's no honey. And what of the milk? How? We are the cows! What ever happened to the land Moses told us about. Now I have to put on a gas mask every time I take as step outside my head to try and keep what insanity I have left for all the sanity here's too polluted. There's no use to try to make sense here, but only to try and be of no use. Food, water, vision, idols, textbooks, budgets, newspapers, smells, problems..., solutions, anything you can think of, even the thoughts that come up aren't safe! The plague spreads throughout it all and that's how its always been. It will never stop so maybe it itself could be the cure and I know no more than nothing at all. 

    I punch in for work as soon as I wake up and begin to live. Everything I do becomes something that feeds and burns in the coal/soul furnace that fuels the corrupted machine spewing cancer, war, apathy, complication, bad thought, and lack of caring out if its giant cities and factories like smoke stacks polluting the land the natives once made love too. Every corner I turn there's some greedy old goblin tax collector with a fedora hat and a pocket watch that always reads, "times up". He sticks his hand in my pockets and takes as much as he wants cause he could always take more. So to live I must pay for my right to life... And dying is even more expensive! I never wanted to be worth so much. Well, to be so expensive. 65 how can I feel the good vibes? When the only vibration's left come from cell/cable towers, power grids, weather machines, and radio frequencies. So I seek refuge at hidden tribal dances. The secret holes inside whats left of the woods. There the people strip naked and force others to do the same while painting each others bodies and souls with the last bit of neon colored love collectively scrounged up from the well almost run dry. And everyone is gathered around the last language of true freedom on earth. OF COURSE! The beats, vibrations, and reverberations of the dead and gone crying out from time discarded, through to the future aking for a change or just giving comfort. OF COURSE! Music! OF COURSE! That's it."


If your interested in this mess of what you may call an idea and you want to understand it or already do. Check this link out and if you have the thirst you'll read the whole article through-
 http://www.bibliotecapleyades.net/ciencia/antigravityworldgrid/ciencia_antigravityworldgrid07.htm#International Harmony Based Upon A Music Of Planetary Grid Systems



Photo By Stephanie Schembri