Casting Out My Demons
09 November 2003 @ 11:26 pm

We are ragged dolls strapped helplessly to a spinning Wheel of time and fate. The anarchical skies under which we toil, our lives are despotically preordained, subordinated and manipulated to the most minute detail. In the umbra of the shadow of the gods of fantastic make-believe, we are instruments, automatons, reflections, silhouettes. We are pawns on a universal chess board. We are tiny puppets playing on a cosmic theatrical stage.

However, the inevitability of the cortege of our macrocosm is evidently hurtling towards eradication, this apocalyptic pilgrimage towards doomsdom. Reality is an illusion. Truth is counterfeit. Beer is urine. Life is demented enough as it is. Why I haven't gone stark raving mad, I know not. But sometimes I wished I had.

Omnipotence, omnipresence, and omniscience will take a back seat hence. Lol and behold! Witness the tumultuous birth of a new world. We have come to unadulterate the truth, hew the stone and knock down walls, seek our dreams, build our nightmares, love for love, slam the doors, smash the mirrors, blow out the candles, tear down bridges, denounce education, reinvent the wheel, chew bubblegum, burn water, get drunk on karma juice, stroll the Elysian Fields, dance round bonfires, drown in chocolate, walk on blood, scream with eloquence, shatter the silence, leap from ivory towers, glorify virginity, kill time, shake the earth, relinquish misfortune, cast the dice, annihilate culture, elucidate obscurity, fashion new dimensions, design event horizons, vanquish the fundamentals, controversize the truth, obliterate the quintessential, challenge Fate, defy Death, and execute perfection.

Shudder and take heed, for it is with tramp of doom that we come!


Copyright, Jason Q. of Generation Terrorists

Older Entries
This is the end of it. - 29 March 2004
Dream On - 22 February 2004
Until the Day I Die - 24 January 2004
It hurts to love him - 22 December 2003
Blood Brothers - 21 December 2003