Subject - assho...
..Glimpses of the past memroies float around me brain zapping my conscience, making me tweak like a crack-addict. Who am I? What am I for? Who's bra is this? Where is everybody? What am i looking at? Who's ugly face is this? Oh. Right. That's you, dummy. Looking ritght at ya'self in the mirror. Just being, like, so fucking proud of yourself. Ain't you? Naaah, you're just hangovered. But that's good you're trying, good you're trying...
If you want to punch some guy on the street: press "1".
If you want to punch yourself in the fucking face: press "2".
If you wanna just get out and live a life or whatever, yo: press "3".
If you want to speak to a real person, please hold the line. Please, hold the line. Please, hold the line...
Kinda funny thing losing any ability to percieve anything around you as truth. Paranoid they say. Nervous they say. Well, folks, why don't you just shut the fuck up and... Okay, okay. Staaaaahp. Ok, i stop. So, this thing about percieving. One time you just open to people. You be proud of youself. Like, you did smth tremendous. You happy. Then boom. You alone. By decision, not fear. Rational damn decision. Logic, yo. And everything that ever connected you to these people fades with no special effects, no music, no... nothing. All becomes a glimpse. Glimpse of a memory you once had and which reminds you of how decieving some things might be. Not constantly. Going back -- well, means going back. You can't go back. You go forth. Future, yo and everything.
However there's a warming feeling that it was. It WAS. You had it. The reality bent by nobody's rules, it just bent. For some time you're feeling second home. But then it suddenly fucking changes like all-out full-scale goddamn war. Ka-boom and you're out there alone in the field. Talking about deception... Or misconception.
Okay, okay. That bra thing - last week news. Forget it. Some serious stuff i've been trying to say here, so just don't... Just shut up, ok? Let me finish.
So, here's the thing. You lose that precious connection, entering the mist of mirrors and masks again, and then you realize that you're on the same looking page you jumped from. Same looking - 'cause it's some different book here. Far from the end. But feelings similar. I rushed, i threw everything i got. And for some time now i've been feeling lost again. You rush, run as fast as you can, do whatever you could, then you stop. Eventually. Where did you go? Where did you appear? Where did I go?..
So, all those latter questions -- fuck those. Literally. Fuck it up its ass. Because in the end - it's just you and you. And either you accept yourself the way you are or die trying impress someone else. Skipping all the fun stuff.
Yeah, sounds like obvious stuff to you i bet. Wanna secret? I'm batman. Kidding. You're an asshole. I'm reaching out for you people here and you just not paying any attention. Wanna joke? Ok, here's the joke. You know why flounder is flat? 'Cause the whale fucked it. Ha-ha. Cocksuckers... Ain't gonna get me! I'm gonna...
So, here's the thing again. One dude told me last night that everything is our model. All we percieve is actually a model we create. I might be someone else's model but no i couldn't be, 'cause i'm observer. And you're observer, and you, and you... Everything - model made by us. Or something. Read Stephen Hawking goddammit, yo!
Pfff. Eeeem. Fuck it. I'm rising. Climbing up from the pit. And i have me armor back. Called, em, maybe you heard of it, like... EXPERIENCE?!! Cool. Glad we're on the same subject matter here.
If you still want to talk to the real person, please stand by the phone...
Some block running back with a bag of money... Don't put it in a bank, you cunt!
Where was I again?.. Gosh, gotta rap this up. Anywho, things await. Great things i guess. Anything is great. Except polio. Polio sucks ass.
I've spilled this out, now - moving on.
If you want to punch some guy on the street: press "1".
If you want to punch yourself in the fucking face: press "2".
If you wanna just get out and live a life or whatever, yo: press "3".
If you want to speak to a real person, please hold the line. Please, hold the line. Please, hold the line...
Kinda funny thing losing any ability to percieve anything around you as truth. Paranoid they say. Nervous they say. Well, folks, why don't you just shut the fuck up and... Okay, okay. Staaaaahp. Ok, i stop. So, this thing about percieving. One time you just open to people. You be proud of youself. Like, you did smth tremendous. You happy. Then boom. You alone. By decision, not fear. Rational damn decision. Logic, yo. And everything that ever connected you to these people fades with no special effects, no music, no... nothing. All becomes a glimpse. Glimpse of a memory you once had and which reminds you of how decieving some things might be. Not constantly. Going back -- well, means going back. You can't go back. You go forth. Future, yo and everything.
However there's a warming feeling that it was. It WAS. You had it. The reality bent by nobody's rules, it just bent. For some time you're feeling second home. But then it suddenly fucking changes like all-out full-scale goddamn war. Ka-boom and you're out there alone in the field. Talking about deception... Or misconception.
Okay, okay. That bra thing - last week news. Forget it. Some serious stuff i've been trying to say here, so just don't... Just shut up, ok? Let me finish.
So, here's the thing. You lose that precious connection, entering the mist of mirrors and masks again, and then you realize that you're on the same looking page you jumped from. Same looking - 'cause it's some different book here. Far from the end. But feelings similar. I rushed, i threw everything i got. And for some time now i've been feeling lost again. You rush, run as fast as you can, do whatever you could, then you stop. Eventually. Where did you go? Where did you appear? Where did I go?..
So, all those latter questions -- fuck those. Literally. Fuck it up its ass. Because in the end - it's just you and you. And either you accept yourself the way you are or die trying impress someone else. Skipping all the fun stuff.
Yeah, sounds like obvious stuff to you i bet. Wanna secret? I'm batman. Kidding. You're an asshole. I'm reaching out for you people here and you just not paying any attention. Wanna joke? Ok, here's the joke. You know why flounder is flat? 'Cause the whale fucked it. Ha-ha. Cocksuckers... Ain't gonna get me! I'm gonna...
So, here's the thing again. One dude told me last night that everything is our model. All we percieve is actually a model we create. I might be someone else's model but no i couldn't be, 'cause i'm observer. And you're observer, and you, and you... Everything - model made by us. Or something. Read Stephen Hawking goddammit, yo!
Pfff. Eeeem. Fuck it. I'm rising. Climbing up from the pit. And i have me armor back. Called, em, maybe you heard of it, like... EXPERIENCE?!! Cool. Glad we're on the same subject matter here.
If you still want to talk to the real person, please stand by the phone...
Some block running back with a bag of money... Don't put it in a bank, you cunt!
Where was I again?.. Gosh, gotta rap this up. Anywho, things await. Great things i guess. Anything is great. Except polio. Polio sucks ass.
I've spilled this out, now - moving on.