i’m distracted by an invisible, obscene light! it’s beams have blinded my flight, my knees encapsulated very tight, as to not refuse this surrender in near sight. historically, the scenes have been rewritten by bourgeois state, propaganda page – it is of this unprecedented age – wherein our search for truth, has lost its REASON. yet, others mention : ‘tis the SEASON!
&…as much as i can appreciate ‘ALL OF THE LIGHTS’ which come with this very spirit and time, unfortunately the cookies and sweetness do not adequately rhyme. my *c3l3bration* is displaced _ for the pages have been spoiled through revisionist stains, an aroma so abhorrent it confuses your BRAIN!
they got you SOLD, through mere packaging and characters TOLD. Santa or Jesus come quickly, for the time is nigh! what stands to reckon with the shoulder and thigh? most of everybody seems to reside on the ‘merry fairy’ – hands full, chugging with a chug of hot cocoa and cider! they got their stockings full with Rudolph on call, if ever they’re in need of a rider. meats, staggering eyes, and holiday cheer! for ‘Christmas and ‘Knew’ is often wrapped as ‘The Most Holy Time of the Year’.
but i’m feeling distant and enclosed, like an envelope that never reached across the shore. up and around with star clouds circling rain, crowning promises with heights capable of steady gain. stretched from bone to rock – appealing for breathable fiction to arise and flock. gathering clusters of ancient and mystical craze // finding delight in sensory history – wedged between mushroom and daisy blistery. according to a will that’s real and not faint. one couldn’t paint this taint through lecture of structure but by a compelling deal. which is what’s real. real as in real ISOLATION _ dislocated memories rewritten by highjacked and embezzled CONSTELLATIONS.
it’s been in the works for a long time! forgotten is the said formulation of demonstrable protest and awakening. narratives are then created to depict a revisionist herstory. changing the form from body to glory : extinguishing the spirit and orchestrating the story, thus leaving the remnants of this TALE – engaged in dichotomy, fought tooth and nail. with the essences of all that is taught and unlearned : i request of the guest of my soul – a quest that may reimburse the TOLL. for my mercies have been SPENT, bruised and hidden from the ears in where my whispers could VENT.
for : the veil has been torn but also worn. through the mention of its appearance, you’re soon subject to its absurd adherence. we wear *with despair’ all of which, spontaneously comes our way. it is with this notion, that we fluctuate and dismay. but are we tempted to disguise – what may be left to surrender or arise? from out of the dark, hallow, and encrusted flame, our integrity is sentenced to return to a place where there’s no name. it rhymes with real but it’s not a shady deal. tho, invisibly embodied as spirit and intention, there is no mention – of the friction and tension – of the thin sheet which misplaces ones attention.
N2021 – for 3 months, I shall rewind from Z 2 A and i must say: what was already said, remained laid – bare and uncovered on my bed. words which were misplaced and spoken and saved as a lifeline, have now been forged by the consequential flame of a spoiled vine – one that can be followed through***- one that can be played AHEAD. if you follow along, the buttons will connect with embroidery THREAD. so follow along with me from Z 2 A – many more animations and symbols to display!