Conform

Degradation of the soul is my lifeline. Burning flames suck out the sublime traits, of overlords stretching to take their turn in front of the lingering hatred of conformity. Your pitying powers of guilt spread over my skin, smother my well-being in sensations of over-bearing heat, lick at the open wound of my heart, as they spit the bitter taste of your fears all around. A creeping shadow forms around these bitter feelings, acts as my blanket to cover me in the warmth of their recognition, to re-energise the chemicals rushing towards their neutered end, speeding so fast they race through the kaleidoscope of my dreams. Slipping through under the cover of hollow emotions, I allow their desires to take the place of society’s army; I allow them to ride over the top of any control cells, letting chaos rain, reign over my tethered passions, the temerity of my hopes and any other sullied temptations of my heart, my soul, my whole existence. This blackening shadow, this over-riding wholeness of insanity, this enlightening feeling of impossible emotions destroys the comfort of nothingness which bears no ill health, kills all that’s near or dear and seeks company neither desired nor recognised. The banality causes the body to spread as the mind shrinks, causes the dumbing down of thoughts as ideology all but disappears, traps my silent thoughts in a veil of happiness that is neither permanent nor of any consequence, resulting in love that is dead from the waist up. This comfort, this conformity, this emptiness is not mine. I reject these and any other offering from the trough of this anaesthetised gene pool. I reject these temptations, these sterile gifts for the conquering feeling of chaos, for the feeling of an unrecognised and unchartered future, for the uncertainty of the mind, for this love of life – pleasure and pain.