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Not at all 12:39 a.m. 2007-05-14 They are driving wedges at your ribcage to decimate the essentials of the air your breathe and the things that you feel. They hold the sledge in hand and at the ready and they name it unity and they name it peace. And the funny thing is, they're wrong; mankind isn't the only creature to kill others of its own species. We're just the only ones to do it honestly. And really, can the simplicity of honesty be avoided? Watch the straight lines and jutting angles in my arms when i hold this saw, to seperate materials and cleave definition out of mass and molecules. Watch the sureity of her fingers when she brushes the hair, violent red or murky black, out of her eyes to keep sight on the page, follow the deft curves of her palms and joints as she moves pen over paper. There is a spark in his eye and that dangerous glint in his pupils when he pushes his foot to the pedal, and he grips the steering wheel with the expert assurance of too many nights spent on highways that have no ingrained destination. See the shapes her legs make when she runs, or when she dances, and watch the precision of her balanced steps and the flawless shift of weight from left to right. Watch us move our bodies in bondage to the purpose of our minds and you will see the inevitable honesty of living as man should live. And when we kill, its no different. back & forth |