Thursday, 28 July 2011
You always need to be where the party is
Don't look down. Oh, you can never look down. Pass 'Go' if you can muster the chemical energy (every chance in hell comes his way, for sure). Crossing the floor now. In zig-zags, avoiding direct contact with stray limbs, just like the remote cleaner that sweeps up the debris after you, but can never hope to catch up in time to make the break. You are staring at a floating ceiling, looking for a Tour Eiffel foundation. It was always going to end this way: how could it be balanced, stabilised, by any other means necessary? It's a swift return, this distance between us taking another form now. A transparent and reductionist alienation, a journey leading into a departure. Alone. Together. Radiating. A dichotomy of sociological conditioning. More than a missing piece; all of the jigsaw is torn into a hundred slices, in a B&Q garden chipper and shredder. Murder, it was. But, really, on the down, down, down.... serious, where the fuck do you go, in your swollen head, dulled mind, lethargic soul, when all the people leave your smiling company to return to what they know as reality, the morning after, the day job? Do the teetering, shaking sub-woofers and blinking red and green lights block the harsh reality out? You stare ahead, eyelids fluttering, peepers dancing to the pounding of the technological movement, seeing nothing but your own sour, taken oblivion. Jeezo, our Jesse. What a scene, what a fucking tune. It seems you can't escape those demons... play loud, and on repeat.
Honey Claws - 'Digital Animal' (3.47)
Band / Source