Tuesday, March 27, 2012

The Hungry Madness of Lubricated Games

the snap crackle pop. the fizzle wiggle, what's that about? the ups and the downs. the sames and the changes - this isn't an old Lupe track. the lefts and the rights, throw it away and ask for direction. be guided by a light, a whole other misconception. lost in another world, the tentacles - free falling. hyped and silent, silently hyped. the build and the bubble,  the press and the pop. the wanting wanting more,  no encouraging to stop. the overdone, whatcha say, we can't hear you now. in actuality we don't give a fuck. the easy access, the notable change. the hungry madness of lubricated games. the stepping stones, we're too late. sinking deep into hot plates. laughing laughin, not sure what about.. stopping, stopping.. we don't know what that is even about. defining the probability of making up something so illusive it immediately solidifies. adapting to the reason, we are everything and the cause. calling out for treason, we've set our own alarms. alarmed by the fact that our minds are closing in on something close to redemption. i think i've gotten this all fooled with my last hit of protection. protecting the voice, with it's jigsaw teeth, gnawing at my insides with such prestige. paying carnage to the devoured efforts of everything that once felt so free.

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