Mind Nomad Writing

against the backdrop of indoctrinated reality we derive truth from the hidden corners of our private logic, sometimes known as memories. 

if this is a cult, then label me a zealot. if the fire needs an author, let my fingerprints spell out

‘A-R-S-O-N.’ 

in the search for the origin of these disasters, find my heart at the epicenter. this pack of wolves calls me their fearless leader but i can see the hunger in their eyes. unfortunately their tastes are pretty indiscriminate. 

in these modern times we behave so instinctively. like naive pigs, we blindly trust the farmer as he feeds our family to us. 

but we can’t help it, as soon as that meat hits the ground we fight to stay alive. all archaic standards are neglected in our intestines. 

i step forward into compromise armed with habits as narcotics. instead of spilling the blood of noble cattle or innocent sheep we supply the atonement with the steady stream of our collective cocaine nosebleed. an offering of the purest intent. 

we search for significance in a new, foreign land. but when did exploring become settling?

#read-b4-itburns