Million dead

The kids are going to love it

Million dead
if i can't feel (on a given day) the way i wanted to, the
temptation hits, my grip it could slip, i could give it up. but
if i can't feel (on a given day) the way i wanted to, i won't
cheapen myself, i won't be patronized by lethargy. and it would
be nice to answer questions with a capsule, but i don't deem
myself that simple minded. and it would be nice to untie knots
with single gestures, but i keep on drawing blood. and it would
be nice to think oblivion was a challenge instead of an excuse.
you built yourself a socio-cultural trap, launched an attack on
your subconscious ruby ridge. if you get what you want you can't
play hamlet to the balcony. the ultimate expression of
consumerism - the wholesale commodification of sensation. the
ultimate rejection of asceticism - the doors of perception
kicked in. the ultimate acceptance of conservatism - a fierce
passion subsumed and corrupted. the ultimate bisection of
ethicalism - as you imbibe the denial of choice. if i can see
straight i can't lie. let's put an end to this falsehood, to the
conception that this is different. misunderstood and
misconstrued, alternative only in vocabulary. you leave the
office on a friday, swap one glazed expression for another, for
48 hours in elaborate gilded costumes at the masquerade
warehouse.
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