Bugolgi Apparatus

what happens  if you stop  being busy  I think about pain the pain has a shape  it’s the shape of the world  all fears and violence  flashing  and I feel sad for others  in their  ignorant bliss  and sad for myself  that I can’t achieve  that said  bliss 

  we don’t get out of this alive   we don’t avoid the blame  all we can do is get comfortable  as we go up in flames  we have to participate  can’t stay in our caves won’t be immortalized  like that guy in Pompeii  fight them in the streets and on the barricades but unless we suddenly evolve those burnt seeds still remain

sometimes there   are no prompts   you’ve lost your   battery memory   you have to rely on   the invisible reality   above your thumbs   it’s always hiding   only mostly   from you  

If I died today   I’d be satisfied with my tiny life   feeling that I tried things   my own way   there’d be some bills to pay   few things to give away   and the hope your anger   wouldn’t stay   knowing we worked at capacity   making our own mistakes   what felt like cruelty   were lessons with other names   if there was will involved much as we got caught up in something more than us   I just hope it didn’t cause much pain

F$ck everything else  when it comes down  to it  there are a few who really care  one or two who make it  worth it  spaced like atoms in the air  and the ship sinks  with them and us  and we didn’t pay extra  we go down with the sharks  reborn as lions 

fifty-fifty you’re wrong   technology might come   with a new solution  dissolving this dualism  you’ve helped  prop up  you were built to fight  you chose a side  after all how can you  have hate without love  what if we just  changed the subject and help to make  something else up

  Cargo Cult   we’re devastated  on our backs  bracing for  the next attack  still drinks  in the fridge  cheese  under the lid   packages sometimes  arrive unopened  another Mideast  massacre unfolding currency’s currently  underwater  delivery trucks still running  our desperate orders  in this cargo cult  I’ve got you involved  Tarzan and Jane  in chanson  to this cargo cult I’m enthralled  while time runs  in and out  I build this sarcophagus  brick by brick  by imported novels and Blu-ray boxsets  I’ve decided to put Greg’s kid  in the will  I don’t know who else  would get it  good life is never  won by degrees  doctorates colonizing your feelings  happy inside  my force field pull me out  well-done my pages  are burning 

  Secretly Good   secretly good   don’t tell anyone   powering through bad   damage done   when things   start to hurt   I become   an onion   layers of good   cover the bad allowing me   to overcome   bad in me affects everything   one day, I dream,   I’ll live in harmony with it   in the   meantime I fight it with everything  

  Team: People   I’m on team people   there’s no sequel   the enemies   in the next season   are even   weirder   we lose   more than we win   then again   did it ever mean anything   the writers   have been replaced   drop in quality   has been suggested   it’s all visual now   seems a shame   weren’t words visual   in the first place   maybe fan fiction   will be readable   or even equal to that   initial thrill