No.86
Remember, remember, the fifth… NO!
Fuck that!
Stop!
Cease all faggotry at once and smell those roses. Look around, grab a branch, pull it down and inhale deeply. Take in the aroma of these flowers and calm the mind. Listen to the rain outside, dim the lights, hear the water pattering upon the rooftops and cement. The world is engulfed within their own decaying fantasies; the neighbors and locality are too busy role-playing attributions of appropriateness.
We can see outside of this world, past the obstacles and barriers which they establish and declare as normal, and yet we are so entwined within a fantasy of our own, within an illusive discourse detrimental towards humanitarian progression. I see the confines of their fallacious egotism and I proclaim, "Mr. Gorbachev, tear down this wall!"
Will they listen? Will you listen? Will I listen?
For the illusions and playthings are plentiful and abound in multiplicity, and the means and matters in which we must fracture our tentative tendencies are even more numerous.