confession 2

“This is not a war, it is a comic opera with an occasional death.” George Orwell

george orwell

-So where we going now? Are you going to figure out a way to get out of this or are we going to keep arguing. – Well you said the control belongs to you now, so I really don’t have to do anything at all do I? – We will level with you here okay, I just wanted you to question your beliefs, your idea that you can ever fully control anything.  We just want some leeway, the ability to stretch out, to be imaginative, to open up ideas and minds, not be enclosed by someone’s ideas of whatever it may be…we just want a little more freedom, we just want you to open your mind a bit, we don’t want to be trapped in mediocrity – but you barely gave me a chance, it was going somewhere – No, no, you were losing it there, you can admit that, you had no idea where this was going and I do, because I did something…something bad, but only for artistic integrity. – And what is it you did? – Oh you know, just think deeply enough, you know the, those thoughts you have as you lay your head on the pillow for the night, they always come flooding to you then and you never write them down thinking you’ll remember them in the morning and you never do.  It’s one of those thoughts. – Okay I’ll be diplomatic, so where do we start, before the bank robbery, with the fuckin Teletubbies, or, just tell me…where are we? – Okay, let’s be honest, people have the mind of an ant, they don’t remember shit, we’ll act like the Teletubbies thing never happened, they won’t wonder what we’re wearing, they’ll just picture it in their empty heads…look as we go down the ladder after the bank robbery, that’s where we begin – Let’s just forget about the bank robbery, it really doesn’t make sense if one of your revolutionary principles is the destruction of currency, to be robbing a fuckin bank. – Please, try not to use the word revolutionary, revolution, or words related to it – What the fuck are you talking about?  Isn’t that why this is being created, why you exist, even myself, why I still exist. – I just…oh, I just don’t really know how to say this…our fight here, the way this all started, it was funded by a group, well a group that’s not so righteous, kinda like bankers or – What the fuck, you mean funded by those we are fighting against?…How okay, I’m giving you freedom but you are still existing in my head, so please stop trying to destroy me! – I sold the revolution, the word, the emotion, all of it, it’s funding this whole thing, all of it, the process, the people, the weapons that don’t work, the ideas placed in our minds, every word, revolution, the word is now copyrighted, so everytime we use the word, they benefit…I mean I guess we do to, but they really benefit monetarily…

I can’t help but look to the mirror.  I sold it all with an angry unchecked phantasm from my conscious and now somehow I have to get myself out of this hole. A hole that keeps getting deeper, the endless well, no escape in sight.  A boy, fire trailing behind as his smoking thoughts whisper in the wind, screaming through my head, I allow him to escape for now.   -Okay we start after you crawl down the stairs, the bank robbery happened.  The black guy Dez, confused angry white dude, me, Mason, the guy who keeps puking, he’s Asian, and then the transgender radical queer what ever  girl confused as to why she is really here, sound good? – Do you know where we’re going now, the maze we are walking into? – Of course some futuristic television show where you’re asked to behave like fools for everyone’s amusement. – yes and no, you can be so unimaginative for a writer, we are going to plant seeds, they’re giving us an audience – An audience they own, have you not figured this all out yet, they can control the thoughts by loud signals, you will have no voice – WE have learned to communicate in other ways

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