"F" You...

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I'd rather live what's real and suffer, tied to "wheels" and rent asunder—slapped by chance and brought down low—before I'd take the path you show. You've ever earned my disrespect. You have performed in glad neglect, and lacking bruises for your shame you prosecute to shift the blame.  This explains why I've no trust and why I'm filled with rank disgust. See, trust is what you would betray as from our bones our flesh you flay!
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So, I'm compelled to this expression—I call it my provoked obsession. It satisfies and sustains me even as it frets and pains me. See, I'd offer I'm no longer fooled... by what you'd taught in canted schools!

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Too, I know that I'm a "bug" to you; I know that you can crush me—true... I know you'd swat me—like a fly—and instantly forget I died.
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Still, I bare my chest and DARE your "best-shot" as my test!  "F" you and your bully pulpit!  "F" you and your shiftless profit!  "F" you, you can make a "gesture" and—in conjecture—provide my censure!
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Though, that won't make you less a thug—a common psychopathic slug. It won't leave you that much richer, fill your belly—draw your pitcher. It won't keep your fear at bay. It won't make me go away; I come back—another form! I am your unrest!  The norm!
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Conspiracy? It lives and breathes! It's but a symptom of disease betraying us to keep us backward—at the whim of brigands ... bastards!  Persons not unlike yourself... "right-wing swine"; but, I repeat myself.

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We're awash in "its" convenience; numbed and bullied, we won't see "it." We don't stand on solid ground, 'cause culture is contrived—unsound! It could go right up in smoke, a killer bug or comet, Folks!

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We won't even cop to truth that all admit corrupts our youth. See, YOU'RE content to build more jails where righteous scholarship is failed, plus YOU'RE so mean you'd fill that prison, slavery "up to date"—your mission!?
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See? You want mere DUMMIES crossing you to keep their threat, then, minuscule...  A smarter mob provides no service.  They contrive to make you nervous! We don't matter! We never did! We're 'tissues' used with which you're rid.
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Keep us stupid, wrapped in 'sports', producing brand new 'guns' and 'forts'... 'till those of us provide excuse—are ash-canned like those tissues used...
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I'm not important. I don't matter—just a mote, but I heat water.  Kept alive and "left alone" until I threaten—then I'm "mown."
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I'd look UP from where you put me—I am sentient, so you "drug me"... ...with the newest "Willis film," "Super Bowls," or some "scandal's" filth.
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It seems to me the systems made to keep us stupid, scared—enslaved, and I perceive it clear and fine that no thing's done that's not contrived! It's smoke and mirrors, spin and dazzle ... keeps one guessing, hungry ... hassled ... keeps us *working*, buying *stuff* that wears too fast—it's not enough!
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Perhaps it's best we suffer this to keep an edge that makes YOU rich?  Perhaps we need "too many people" to "pick and choose"—just "cut" the feeble? Perhaps we should avoid the stars—retreat from space, embrace YOUR "bars," and live our lives in hapless squalor, so you can live the good-life—*father*?
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The *haves* control the *have-nots* then—that's the way it's always been. The *have-nots* cannot get get ahead—were they to "try" they'd be "shot dead."
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...But NOW we'd speak to everyone! The word gets out, and words are guns! Ideas at the speed of light are reaching out to brighten night! Everyone's a "TV station"—not regulated? A CELEBRATION! ...And we can read the words of many unfiltered by the censor's plenty. We don't have to wait for answers! We can find, and cure, our "cancers"!
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We re-grasp our very lives! Yes! Snatch them back from men despised! ...Men who first despising us—providing they've betrayed our trust—enriched themselves at our expense by prosecuting said offence...
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It's hard enough to hoe their row if you've been blessed with any dough. It's hard to laugh, or see the sky, or sit around and wonder *why*!  Your struggle is travail and strife, so fear and terror rule your life!
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It's difficult when so distracted by the price the man's exacted... when he's forced you to be born in ignorance... ...that he supports! There is much that he pretends. What he hides upsets—offends, and you, distracted, harried—bothered, are used like so much cannon fodder.
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Disrespected, and ignored (...until you bother "priests" and "lords"...) you blithely do their *earnest* bidding, ignore the saucers (leaping—flitting!), and place your nose upon their stones to grind for them your powdered bones.
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We ALL shall sit on righteous thrones! Autonomy is ours alone! We have earned it in the way we're brought into this world to pay.
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Much *respected* before we're born, it's quick we find the real horn! Then we're scourged as we discover disrespect is then recovered, and treated like we're vermin—LICE— we're snatched away from paradise!  Yes! Prenatal: good to go, though, pre-school kids hoe different rows! 
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Worse, we don't have a wit nor clue that what we're handed's "bent askew." We ignore our homelessness, we rape the Earth, but I digress. We can't earn our elevation—can't provide for our progression.  So we take the shortcuts there attempting to, then, get somewhere!
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We're mired in a mud of malice—hate is rampant, hot, and callous! Schools are nurseries for that hatred—crowded, dirty, and outdated.
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We shall spawn "the man's" perdition, make him wallow late contrition. *He* shall wander marked, despised, when folks become aware—get wise, and drive him from his airy reaches... those hateful... errant sons of bitches...
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alienview@roadrunner.com
www.AlienView.net

"Conspiracy? It lives and breathes"! 

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Big ones—just around the corner, behind a tent flap, or hidden in plain view, and certainly not for your own *good*, reader. Believe that meme at your peril.  Culture:  not friend or ally.

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Restore John Ford!