Honest as the forest…feral as the weasels.
We are living in more bothersome times than ever before.
THE VIRUS ABOUNDS.
Which leaves me worried…
mainly of my dear mother goose.
And for the old, vulnerable folks close to those I love as family beyond blood.
Other than which,
I find this cowardly new world of fear, appalling…
a major narrowing of avenue and opportunity for adventure and mischief and wild lust naked on the heath under the gaze of the full moon.
We were given the distraction of the BLM movement, SOros funded, widely promoted by the governments and bilderberg group owned mass media platforms which churn out OBEDIENCE masquerading as moral righteousness, which many of the lemmings quickly call ‘virtue signalling’ without wondering where they got that term or their stance from…The mark of anyone I know, myself included, gone to rot on the vine, is to have a stance, and for anyone who doesnt agree to that stance to be attacked with dull spring loaded response directed by facebook and twitter.
Do those screaming ‘Im a proud leftie’ not realise that their closed mind approach to any challenge of their stance is not the sign of moral condemnation of a fascist, or racist, or bigot…its simply someone with a slightly different view. People are becoming so fucking lemming, I can find their stance on hashtag trends, and the exact words they give me…yet they seem to feel they have an independent voice. Its pathetic and leads me more towards seeking intensity elsewhere in Nature and the few artists I have come across who are as feral as the weasels, my spirit animal, my totem…which amuses me to mention when people tell me their spirit animal is a wolf or lion or tiger…morons projecting everything they would like to be seen as, but are closer to blades of grass….Grass for Sheep naturally prone to herding…They offer nothing different, other than annoying echoes of hagtags####…
Pip SKiD is not an easy listen. He will never get his hashtag. Yet his output is unwaveringly sincere….and this is a pure and precious and rare thing in our accursed tribe and times of corporations and megalomaniac billionaires working with their counterparts to crush our capacity to earn our daily bread. For I dont meet or know many humans who offer much honesty, too often close to always an agenda, a projection of how and who they want to be seen and shared on fuckbook as…
I’d rather listen to REKS than cringe more and take the knee…
I seek those of my own tribe.
yet find myself surrounded by fiends,
the vain, the insecure, the vapid, the walking dead…
my idea of spirit is the tides of the full moon,
reaching up with all the energy they have gathered,
after traveling a million miles to make their laST STAND…
Who really wants honesty? When we can add our threads and repeat prescribed soundbites and insta viral bullshit? Only the wild, still amongst us, generally pushed to one side, allowed to survive, but never prosper beyond what they have fought heart wide open and fists bared, bruised and broken but still thriving… as survival, and when their hardship spills into an ugly confrontation with the droids and drones…
Eyedea was one of the very few I have always felt as pure in his output…weird, intelligent, cynical, heartfelt…but always meant every word. This is incredibly rare. How many can you say the same of??? And yet…this honesty, I hold aloft as the most important ideal alongside heart and loyalty…those I have been close to who confirmed this precious to me potency, the complete absence of cunning, falseness, affectation…have suffered more than everyone else I know…
Too much meaning…without the playful or wicked beats…Ill lean towards this to make it more happy again…and smile with less depth of poetry flowing but still as honest as the forest.
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