Welcome To The Crash

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Welcome to the crash, my friends.

Welcome to the crash.

The dawn clock ticks on, as checked shirts torn off hit floors, and a vodka scented sweat soaks into the seams.

His handlebar moustached lip, and mandible jaw click open, and begin to pour forth five oceans of spit ruined, rorschach tested, unborn, x-rated dreams

and tears stream from in between blinks as he thinks "I should have done more things".

 Then suddenly in his neck he feels it, like a heart attack, his own pulse beating, thick with fat, and as we sweats he tries to catch breath, and breathes deep with a stretch, reaching out to grab hold of another cigarette

and as he lights it, he looks straight into the camera, right down the lens and says;

Welcome to the crash, my friends.

Welcome to the crash.

Because the iCloud is full, and the App Market's open, and she's hoping that we're all just going towards something else, somewhere else, close up, maybe in real life, or maybe just in 3D,

and as her eyeballs scroll over her Instagram feed, the tips of her fingers and thumbs slowly bleed, then theres blood in her palms, and blood on the screen, blighting the lighting of another aspirational meme.

Then the barman calls last orders, so she screams at the wall, eats the bricks and shits stone daughters, who will one day form a youth-quake punk-rock band, or simply just work for a man and take orders.

So instead, she swipes right on life, then wipes the concrete from her mouth and the brick dust from her eyes.

Then she looks straight into the camera, right down the lens and says;

Welcome to the crash, my friends.

Welcome to the crash.

So let's agree consumption + soulessness = depression.

Because our sadness makes them more money than we care to mention. So it increases the tension. Like the treble of an orchestra, tremendous. It pierces our solitude and ruptures our intention, as the power-addicted conductor forgets to mention that the ride we're on is going nowhere.

"You're all fools"

Caught up in muted, false smile, dead eyed blues.

But soon our mouths will blister and our lips will pucker as we whisper...

Welcome to the crash, my friends.

Welcome to the crash.

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