Contact Info / Websites
MASTERY OF THE SENSES
Mastery of the senses, put up your defences goddammit, these are damage limitation tactics. This whole chapter is madness. Man this is sad, but damn, Sade has it in for his fellow man. Hellish anger, you should harangue your head in shame, spank yourself with the rattan cane. Walk around with a Latin name. You look so animated, with a fascination for satirisation. An iris blind, to hide a side of mindless childish and fly-on-the-wall tyranny disguised by sarcasm and irony. Silently writing a dynasty, a tidal wave that creeps up on you, privately. Right were we? Spitefully spiralling into a cycle of stridency. An indecent assault of the mind, salt in the wound is unkind, but it really is no fault of mine if you feel insulted by rhymes. Offence is taken not given, don't be mistaken for what's written down. I don't know whether to treat you with kid gloves or mittens. It always starts with this, Stars of the Lid, then it begins with an unstoppable march to the finish line. Which just typifies the pedigree, its hereditary, but second nature. Writing is a craft I openly hate and love, but I'll write even if I have to suffer a sprain and cause pain to my rotator cuff. Even if your hands and arms are sore later, at least you were able to use those thoughts in your favour. If anything, the pain they cause give them more flavour and make them more savoury. Another collection of statements made, no longer caged in the containment of your head. Its so important that you said this shit, put to bed and told this shit instead of withholding it. Releasing this serotonin the only way you know how, and you now know how far you'll go to blow off a little steam, no need to waste saline, when you can just oil the word machine and make everything seem seamless. Its just routine, what you do, nothing new, its the same soup, from the tureen. The same gloop that you serve, the Soy Green, with a side dish of sushi and soybeans. And Wasabi. Disregard, but not a dilettante. Never likely to ever put those hands away, even while wracked with cramp and pain. If anything it'll just ramp up the chainsaw. there are no lengths that we ain't going to. No pain barrier that's not worth going through. Even when its throwing you in front of a train. Or you get hooked on the nose of the Malaysian plane. Legerdemain, those ardent hands sharpened, ready to embark on a darker stance. You have half a brain, so at least you have half a chance. So now, let's just hope that the others understand the circumstances that made you part of this circus band. From the cauldron bowels of Doldrum land, you want sympathy Nietz? You want me to hold your hand? You always were a lonesome chap, trapped, in a world of make-believe and detached from the unimportant crap. Its awesome that you broke loose, and soaked through, the cracks, it was a masterstroke which destiny brought you. And now the strength of will will goad, and light the road up, Stars of the Lid will brighten the lobes and enlighten your thoughts, heighten as you're writing the notes... Tonight you are mastering the senses.