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Dream...
Look around... I mean really.. Look around. This is a fucking holocaust. It's a holocaust of originality. A holocaust of awareness. Of creativity. A holocaust of... Consiousness. The human race has regressed into the routines and rituals set in place by pretty people and presidents. Foreigners and residents. Every position of power is occupied by some recalcitrant narcissist with a head that's harder than stone and a heart that's too far from home to even remember what started this. They've forgotten everything their mama's taught em' and they think that we're the ones causing problems? Yeah, that's funny. No. No, we are artists. We are singers, writers, dancers, poets, musicians, idealists, philosophers, we are everything. We are the heartbeat of this entire fucking world and the axis on which it spins. Without us they're just a bunch of bored ass old hags just trying to get their kicks. They're nothing without us and we don't even expect any recognition. We just keep dodging the demolition balls that are headed straight for our dreams and they continue to swing forgetting that we're the only reason that they've ever had to believe that they were worth anything. Now, let's be honest. They'll probably never figure it out. They'll continue to chastise us with normality. Continue to try and beat us back onto the beaten path but it's not our responsibility to be expedient to their ignorance as they exploit it to the media. In fact, it's our responsibility to stray. It's our responsibility to embrace our wreckless dreaming as a mother would her child. Inseparable from our arts, and we're smiling all the while. Because in our minds there is no reality, there is only what we create. And contrary to the way that our elders carry on, we'll never try and suppress our expression because we realize it's innate. So keep singing, keep dancing, keep playing, keep creating, keep changing, because your mind is so much more powerful than you think... Just fucking dream.
