Decades Of Drone Duldrums. Art.

Decades or wracked strain. The pain of reaching out. It is not an abyss, yet they act like they feel to fill a void. Cracked overarching market force glitch. Can make millions of miles in ones mind, yet outside you still see the forces that bind. Now cast into an out of space race ground.

The plan and will to thrive at the forefront of being in a state beyond only willing to survive. If the expression be granted for a great shift of the attitudes. The time and place to bring about a great relief only after the aftershock. This one will not cause destruction or death or loss to peace of mind. The mass pop culture has experienced ego death. Now what sprite to replace to get out of fright.

Droned around, cabin fever, indoors, repetitive motions making sick. Repetitive sounds show me I have ticks. The outside circus attempts to keep you quiet and shut in. Oppressive and regressed attitudes attempt to keep life small to not compete with what little to no crumbs they have. Ah! Placebo crumbs. Not even fighting for scraps. Scrapping for scraps! Scraping sounds that grate.

Time and place are ripe for real work. Not to be put to debt. To be set! To build the garden of eat'n', to work on your own living place and surrounding area. Not too busy working at a job you don't like all the time. No more burn out, switch that with enrichment. The oppressive old taxed ways don't work. When you can't get by you are unable to function. The sentimentalised state lays social functions to waste. Refuse the notion you need to buy this to be happy, for sure certain means make certain tasks or activities easier.

The constant psychological, emotional, social, financial burnout slows me down. It doesn't stop me. Had to throw off all the old ways of what they tried to teach me in school or on t.v. had to throw up what Hollywood was trying to feed me. A bad bully death trap is not my fate. I will not be assimilated. Will not be haze humiliated.