On the exercise of power, and freeing your mind
Welcome to Picadilly Circus, the paradise of vanity and everything superfluous and superficial. A rich society shitting money through all pores, where every night is saturday night and everything can be bought, the most beautiful and glamorous women walking side by side with the scum of the world (and me), the most powerful (and balding fat assed) bastards going traqueto-style in the most expensive limosines carrying the most expensive naked bitches in the world, meeting born again chistians coming from the opposite direction preaching with a megaphone, asking this society to stop, to repent to think about their lives, while hara khrisna come from the other way singing one million krishnas.
Everyone goes around thinking about their mortgage, their careers, their property, their money, their job, the future. Madero says there is no point in talking to them, their head will be empty anyway. I can hear the whisper of the devil, really, really close. Is it like the frog, slowly boiling to it's death without realising it? Can you become your enemy but not see it, i am afraid you can.
Before I could compare, but now I go blind without a point of reference, now I can only assume that people will behave the same everywhere minus/plus a thing or two, look at that person that reminds you of, say this and that, the other will do that, design patterns permeate your life, and what's worse, they work.
The voices in my head, as i used to say. I used to worry when it was one or two, but now they are so many and make so much noise i can't even hear what they are saying.
Am i going more mad?
Welcome to Picadilly Circus, the paradise of vanity and everything superfluous and superficial. A rich society shitting money through all pores, where every night is saturday night and everything can be bought, the most beautiful and glamorous women walking side by side with the scum of the world (and me), the most powerful (and balding fat assed) bastards going traqueto-style in the most expensive limosines carrying the most expensive naked bitches in the world, meeting born again chistians coming from the opposite direction preaching with a megaphone, asking this society to stop, to repent to think about their lives, while hara khrisna come from the other way singing one million krishnas.
Everyone goes around thinking about their mortgage, their careers, their property, their money, their job, the future. Madero says there is no point in talking to them, their head will be empty anyway. I can hear the whisper of the devil, really, really close. Is it like the frog, slowly boiling to it's death without realising it? Can you become your enemy but not see it, i am afraid you can.
Before I could compare, but now I go blind without a point of reference, now I can only assume that people will behave the same everywhere minus/plus a thing or two, look at that person that reminds you of, say this and that, the other will do that, design patterns permeate your life, and what's worse, they work.
The voices in my head, as i used to say. I used to worry when it was one or two, but now they are so many and make so much noise i can't even hear what they are saying.
Am i going more mad?
