This Blue Room

It's certainly a spectacle, this blue room.
Yes. Because the rhythm of the words on words like coffee grounds spilling out from the blabbering mouths of the people in the box, the fish without water. The flip and they flop, some flip-flopping more dignified than others but it doesn't matter any way because all we're gasping for is inspiration.

flipflopstop.

it's true.

so very true

So what happens now?

I don't understand. Has the propaganda really ended? What do we know now that we didn't then. What have we learned? Then, it was the communists, now, it's the terrorists...What's a scare tactic, and what's the truth? Do we really know what's happening?

I don't know what to believe anymore. Lies seem to fly around with the truth like bats and birds. How do we know that a radical conspiracy theory that we discard as being ridiculous and unimportant isn't something that, twenty years later, will be as clear as day? They say that all the truths, when they were first revealed, were dismissed as radical babble. But how do we know that today's "radical babble" isn't what actually is going on?

I don't know. I don't want to be fed anything. When I was younger, in middle school, I was constantly angry. I used to search for reasons to be angry at the government.
I don't want to be like that now. I don't want to find excuses, but i don't want to be blind either.
I wish I could do something

I like the Flux...

which actually has nothing to do with anything. I just figured I would proclaim my love for Flux of Pink Indians before I contiuned with something entirely irrelevant.

So I found this poem the other day by Percy B. Shelley. It's probably really well known and I'm probably just an idiot, but anyway, it's called "The Mask of Anarchy." It was written in 1819 after the British government slaughtered a bunch of people at Peterloo, which, apparently, is in Manchester. Not that I know exactly where Manchester is either, but I know it's in England and that's enough.

Anyway, the whole poem is like, seven pages long. This was kind of unappealing at first but when I started reading I couldn't stop. By the time I was done, I had to read it again because it was just amazing. I remember this one verse that really stuck in my head...it goes,

"Rise like lions after slumber
In unvanquishable number
Shake your chains to Earth like dew
Which, in sleep had fallen on you.
Ye are many, they are few"

That makes me happy for some reason. mmm....smells like a revolution. Maybe that will be my motto now.

What?

An Exact form of Entropy
What a sport is Anarchy?
Like the Sand and like the Sea
You are you, and I am free.

For I am the reason and I am the rhyme,
Wondering when I should expect your sign
they say you're not of the air and not of the land
but I'm questioning your "Righteous Hand."

Believing is one thing, blind faith another.
why are you Father, not Brother nor Mother?
how am I to believe that you are The Divine
when you won't grant your children the freedom of mind?


If I am a sinner for asking why
Then I do not repent, I'll leave them to try
Leave men to sort through your griffonage
Because I won't be satisfied with a simple mirage

And You Will Know Us By The Trail of Shitty Band Names...

RRR!

this makes me really angry. You know it. When you're just trying to listen to a band but all you can think about is the fact that they're name is something like, "Bloody Death Scarring Paranoia Fishstick Parade" WHEN DID BAND NAMING BECOME SO GODDAMN IMPOSSIBLE? is it so hard not give you band a name that should be an whole sentence? When did band names start becoming eight- fucking-miles long? BAH!!!!!

I don't want to sit around and be like, "oh yeah? Well I kind of like 'Being An Useless Idiot While Making Up Gory Band Names And Death And Blood And Shit..' They're really good. They're playing a show tomorrow. I just don't know what time because they took up the whole fucking flyer with their stupid name."

Yeah. that's all.
Sorry.

Jeez, stop posting pointless rants, Beka!

Ah.

It's been a really long while since I posted anything. I don't know why, either. I think my motivation to do anything just got shut off for a while and I went throught a spell of laziness.

See? I didn't even write a sentence, and already this post is over. What a fucking rip off, eh? I am far too content with mediocrity.