Non-Identification Syndrome (Misanthropy)

Driving a wedge,

pushing me over the edge.

Dry in the mind,

unsatisfied

that you’re so blind inside.

Don’t have the answers

and the questions

are illiterate at best.

Disregard impressions,

be who I am

be who you are;

I don’t give a fuck if you’re impressed.

I don’t stress,

so useless – point lost in excess.

I don’t identify – Alienate

with an open mind – never in hate

-but remorse-

 

Failing basic communication

I still attempt contact,

through whatever means,

however obscene.

Inbred ideas foster apathetic dipshits

who are attempting homicide

and think that it somehow is OK.

Murderers, addicts, fanatics,

reflecting the precedent

set by main influence;

government, church and TV.

When corruption corrodes

all roads

lead down quickly.

No new news

to me or you;

it’s all in the money.

 

 Don’t subscribe to the greed game.

All its products are the same.

They’ve effectively given you no choice,

your way of life birthed my their voice.

Buy with poison – pay with death.

Keep you distracted,

except when things get real bad,

then they just lie – and you believe them.

But everybody wants to be lied to

and with the way things are

I can’t really blame them.

 

Stand apart from it all,

allegiances few, if any.

Tempted towards misanthropy,

but it’d be like hating myself

and I’d rather hate you.

 

HG – 2000-2005

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