Monday, April 23, 2018

puzzlepeace(prod. by episodic)

written and performed by stranded


prod. by episodic



….can you picture your world
conjure stimulants
eyes SMACKED
by vociferant
lack of indolence
the substantiation
of conceptual images
the ultimate realization
of theoretical fingerprints
roots stretch and twist from a tree
to strengthen their bond
with what exists at their feet
covalent claws
both dig and accrete

the evanescent reflection
electronically
what if death
is but the outset of an odyssey
that lasts exponentially longer
than all that it’s following

and up to the point of dying
we aren’t even blossoming

could death be the entrance
the foot of the next dimension
when you beat the game
is that it
or do you just get the next system
move to the newest console
on this infinite expedition
is continuing’s only limit
pushing reset or quitting
the advent of fission
kaleidoscopic explosion
paths multiply
unfolded
a timeless ronin
fictitious science pulses
provide emulsion
these ideas
go inside his dome
not unlike hypnosis
to congregate
with his own philosophic notions
like five lions
with pilots inside
controlling
synopsis-wise
bottom line yo
my mind is open
so get the fuck out my face
with your gods that close it
the religionless
ayahuascan genesis
a magnifying glass
cast inside a vastless emptiness

a paradox
like parallactic instances
without the position you’re seeing from
being different

such is the nature
of disorienting stimuli
when you decide
what light goes in your eyes
that world is emphasized
asleep imitating awake
dreams reiterate
zooming in
on what’s currently
the peak of your mental state
the symbolic interpretation
of your mind’s reverberation
my soul’s lost
only so called monsters
lurk my wavelength
my whole squad’s mysterious
stars
ghosts
swamps
and pyramids
my levels of madness
are myriad

i conjure fictional realms
and disappear in them
when i look at myself
i wonder
which one of me’s
where the mirror is
what if any reflection
is a potential nexus
to commandeer the ship

close proximity
between dimensions
causes atmospheric shifts

i lack experience
with behaving inauthentically
so
while our lives unravel
inside a cage
intrinsically
i escape through entropy
by way of syncope
i add the weight obligatory
to gravitate to things that interest me

i adhere to a strict code
of ’THIS IS ME!!!’
rewire undesirable systems
to configure peace
meticulous stitch work
with roughshod iron thread
covered in blood
i weave untouched across a lion’s den
your soul will know no grave
don’t be so afraid to die within
a low point
is ALWAYS a place
from where one might ascend

whatever glow that i may generate
the light is dim

you don’t know where i have been
i’ve suffered life
granted brief serene instances
my anguish panoramic
with few peaceful intermittences

sparse moments
that make ingrained impressions
strong enough to form a smile
that won’t evaporate in seconds

i inhabit worlds
where ALL happiness is threatened
buried beneath unnecessary casualties
too fecund

so much bullshit
interferes with what is beautiful
i want to die forgotten
just disappear
fuck a funeral
there’s true power in how i feel
real love’s immutable
energy is constant
it just veers from the usual
perhaps that force
could be more appropriately utilized
if it underwent the transformation
death’s cocoon provides
or perhaps not
perhaps that type of love’s
a fucking unicorn
that’s only found by poachers
whose motive
is just remove the horn


hook:

it’s unfortunate that love
is considered to be so sinister
something so macrocosmic
rendered to be so miniature
fuck those
who choose to see filthiness
where there isn’t dirt
those with such lenses
are condemned
to only witness dearth
what is seen
is not quite
what constitutes an image
what lurks behind the optic nerve
might pollute your vision
it’s YOUR responsibility
to conquer your suspicions
and see what’s right in front of you
despite predispositions
it’s unfortunate that love
is considered to be so sinister
something so macrocosmic
rendered to be so miniature
fuck those
who choose to see filthiness
where there isn’t dirt
those with such lenses
are condemned
to only witness dearth
what is seen
is not quite
what constitutes an image
what lurks behind the optic nerve
might pollute your vision
it’s YOUR responsibility
to conquer your suspicions
and see what’s right in front of you
despite predispositions







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