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I've Been Rejected

  I shoot my shot and I miss But I keep movin along Since that's all there is My normalcy transpires,  Fallacies and fires Never thought to inquire Where, in the world, my soul is. Its about time I reconcile The burning flesh that I devour Cannibalism, self sexualization, Disgust for my own admiration God I can't take it anymore! Please come knocking at my door. God run through my aches and pains. My feet are sore, my hair is ripped apart, I cant even begin to start  Where love is. Where love is. Sense my soul, Someone, please hold, I tell you one last thing I bought her a ring And yet she rejected My soul was ejected Crushed and eclectic I was rejected I was rejected. Please let me live, Please let me live.

Unconscious Controlled Critique

A state of subjugation so infantile, yet so disruptive, could the layers of conspiracy go further in its existence? Purportedly, a state media ran through the filter of difference and excitement leveling its own demise for short term satisfaction to the overlords, controlling our every thought and idea to the very core. Is this state ran media a consequence of governmental control, supposedly through the use of democratic means, that theoretically can be shifted determinant on public perception? Partially, yet the media runs further than what we believe it to be. As our eyeballs are ripped out of their sockets to give monetary incentives to this industry, it concludes a multiplicity of ideation that exists on its own, and wrapped around to affect the very authors themselves. Entertainment, as we uphold it, levels a perspective relevant to a minority of beings, centralized in a very few cities, and then controlled by a smaller few individuals within the business sector, and a sole purpose to allow the expansion of such influence. These overlords, with their personal needs as the main front of communal dissemination of information, let us, the peasant in their desire, a life of incrimination particularly not through legal means but through the arrest of our minds.

Where can our minds wander freely, and where can they reshape our lives and the lives of others in ways beneficial to us? An important question no doubt, and one that has had a fluctuating dialectic of truth, propaganda, emotional disgust, and needs reshape its very nature to us, but never allowing a truly autonomous mind to make the decision they so desperately desire. However, there is a more prescient question. What exactly is the extent of their control? But also, are they truly the ones in control or are they subjugated to the same mechanisms? In the everyday life of the normal person, do the actions we possess act as our own action with its own motivation on its own, came to itself through reason and thought and emotion, or are they an extrapolation dictated by the very powers that seek to keep us subservient to their desire for expansion? This extent, so daring in its psychological control that it seems almost impossible we'd allow it to exist in the first place, cuts off our minds to the body of our action, commodifying the very existence of human need such as food water and shelter, and then regressing itself to the backlogs of our minds, destroying our ability to recognize its endeavor.

Is this writing the very extent it seeks to repress? Yes, I'm afraid so, and its outreach is not confined to support, but has found its way into criticism as well. If the extent were to exist as a partial psychological and ideological position, the abilities it has would not be nearly as sinister, but critique continues to seek only to reinforce this narrative, and has been appropriated for its expansion. What is the point of this then? To one day achieve that desire of freedom so rotund and ever expanding in a world filled with methods of disguising our desire to achieve it as expanding its ability to expand.

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