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This hollow casing of indifference makes way for the elegance of despair.
Its shadow creeps in and out articulately - carefully - weaving a dance of obscurity throughout the masquerade.
No cure for the eternal trappings of this ancient disease we call consciousness. A bandage, a smile, a laugh... A decision to run and hide with the rest of them - blindly scared of an imaginary punishment by an imaginary being.
Certainly it wouldn't hurt to feign belief in a system meant to suppress thoughts and desires - to control actions and cripple with unwarranted guilt. Occupy the vacuous cavity behind the eyes with senseless rules from ancient times. Surrender the faculty of reason and self-reliance to credulity and servitude.
Diligently fearful of the spider in the corner of the room convinced to be real, the ignorance of and toward those who don't see the spider is unbecoming. These few cannot live with cognitive dissonance from playing make-believe.
Life has no purpose or meaning outside of what one implies - there is no reason for existence or consciousness. Intelligence and understanding of reality can be life's most crippling handicap. This darkness coagulates around the infinitesimal speck that is my existence, chipping away my encasement until the only virtue left is apathy.
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Panspermian Mora
03:40
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Mars Has Brought War
02:38
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Technological Afterlife
03:37
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11. |
The Love of Existence
03:17
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Shock Frontier Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania
Dark, atmospheric death industrial from south-western Pennsylvania. Released by Malignant Records.
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