Review Summary: Oh my **************************.
I was on acid last week or so. I can't remember the date precisely; chronological events as of late have been blended together as if by a hurricane, and I am the eye of the storm. My only reference frame, guaranteed by degrees of similarity and identification, has been a track by Motoi Sakuraba entitled, "The End of a Thought." It's uncanny how the song changes, yet stays the same. Exacerbates, and quells. An unmoved mover. So when it moves you, the wave states of your particles become confused. An unwarranted miracle? They arrange themselves to forget the trauma; inventing their own past, unaccessible. Our universe is hysterical. Rigidity and a narrow-minded conception of contradiction is the prognosis. This song is the big bang. It's seed caused the universe to expand in one direction, and contract in the other. It is moving back to the contraction of an infinite orgasm, pleading for a long suck at the tits before retraction into the caring womb. Motoi Sakuraba was obviously breastfed. All you'll see is one small, puffy hand sink back into the deep. Any regrets? Does it matter? Then you reach what they call freewill.
Instrumentals speak louder than any vain attempt at lyrical "meaning." Strike closer to the ontology. Your words are crap. They validate what's already known. They never teach. They seduce and drag. Why shoe gaze when you can sun gaze?
Fighting of the Spirit is a true story of our word. Demons are trying to get you to go vote. Thirty minutes there and back huh? That's a ***ing life time, almost. You could rise and fall from a DMT trip in that time. Instead you want to shoot darts in the dark. Add to that thirty minutes any time you "should have" spent researching those candidates. Does an hour for each candidate suffice? Nah. Its all in the dark. Listen to this song instead.
Ahhhh. Now I'm listening to The Law of the Battle. When *** gets stupid, you buckle down and say *** you.
The Struggle to Survive is one of the most talented keyboard solos in the history of mankind. Survival is a state of mind we all know well. Working for some ***ing moron just to get a few dimes. They are keeping us here because they know it will impede our ascension. They? Us. Soros? I think he's a man, so he applies. But, its a fun game. Think of it like that. Dominate, and smile. No soul domination, merely corporeal. They'll forgive you.
Academic City. I remember my college days, before I dropped out. The best part? A sense of community. You see people, and occasionally choose to smile. Feels good. But then after hearing professors tell jokes for forty minutes straight, blatantly, you realize there's a rift in the goodness. True academia in 2018 is the library. Unless you want oatmeal for brains, I suggest you go to the library instead of college. There's a sinister feeling lurking there, mirrored by the extremely subtle dark parts of this track. I can almost discern the harpsichords in this track softly say, "I want your money." Any well made rule has no exceptions. Unless you're a fan of foggy thought. We must hold hands if we are to break through this bull***, together.
