I hear the beat. I hear the crying sound.
Antlers of electrical interference come to head butt me to the ground.
I dream of these moments, every day.
When I’m stuck in the vomitful, circular scenes I live through every day
When I’m alone at my desk. When I have lunch by myself.
After I have gigged all night, and there’s no place in my head to think of anything big.
I dream of these moments of blissful retribution.
When it’s just me and the World. A one on one in an empty room.
We dance a violent dance. We pound on each other in the face until one of our thick masks breaks.
Or our knuckles shatter.
When I want to escape I wear my mask. I venture out
An ephemeral creature of light with no attachment to the material world.
A symbol with no earthly shadows.
I escape, and I’m ready to wage war
I hear the beat and the crying sounds.
I travel without moving. INSIDE is where the world happens.
Infinite landscapes generate, dissipate, constantly update
To show me what’s happening out there
A billion voices rise and soften with the turning of the clock
But they never go away. They make the world.
Everyday, from inside their rooms. A billion little rooms.
The world now is made inside.
The place once reserved for the ill, the lunatics, the half dead
The derelicts, the prisoners and the naughty children denied of their place in the sun
Now we can all exist inside. We can build our lives here, in the comfort of the unseen
We can watch but never perform. We can expand ourselves
Travel the whole Universe at the speed of light
When it all gets too boring... when the colors of reality get too dim
And we feel time slip away more slowly than it should
Then we hear the beat. We hear the crying sounds.
We open the window to the world and we watch.
Pampered by the warm stream of novelty that comes to feed us fresh delights
Like Roman slaves to their master
We rejoice in those moments of bliss. We hold on to them for a dear minute
Knowing that it will pass very soon. Any second, now.
When the current drifts a malignant apparition our way, we were already expecting it
We know that what is really out there is an immense landfill of rooms
Each one with a warrior inside, ready to attack and continue the endless warfare that always rages on.
Slings come our way all the time. Arrows of slight. Darts of offense.
We shield and mount offense ourselves, standing by the impeccable values we hold dear and must defend
This is what we’re here for. The battle, the call. The crying sounds that call our name
To join the melee.
Virtually alive. For a brief moment very day.
And as the battle continues... countless feuds crossing each other in the same crowded ballroom
We are too busy to see that we are nothing but mice in a test tube
That we were put in a cage to devour each other, while the real crimes
Are being committed to us, unseen and unpunished.
We are drained of ourselves each day a bit more
Kept focused and busy with things that don’t matter
Minds that cycle forever in meaningless loops. Anxious souls. Lives that don’t prosper.
We are trapped inside.
What seems so innocent and perfunctory is really the strongest weapon we have
For if you want to be truly free, the next time you hear the warring beat and the crying sounds
Just lay down you arms. And step outside.
