Group

A group dynamic means that all sorts of people behave in certain ways, and are unable or unwilling to change their habits and behaviours because they don't want to step out of line, don't want to appear different...

THAT'S ALMOST EVERYONE ON THE PLANET THEN!

Being a bit harsh saying that thought, really I am.

You see there are millions of people who don't toe the line, not in their hearts.

In their minds, maybe they do, their fight or flight response, their amygdalas, the bit in their head that says, we're under threat, we need money, to eat to live.  We need to buy stuff to make us happy, which is a lie.

No-one got happier because they had things they didn't have before.

We were all happier without mobile phones, and all the trappings.

Trappings of modern life, trapped with it.

Unable or unwilling to break out.

I keep trying to, get drawn back in, to conform, to feel normal.

Watch t.v. but the programs are crap, ruined by demographics, advertising within, inbetween the parts.

None of it is any good at all, the morals have gone out of our lives.

I'm told it's perfectly acceptable to sleep with someone on a second date.

What happened to having feelings for someone, getting to know someone?

Is this whole place just a massive orgy waiting to kick off?

Over sexed apes the lot...  No thought processes.

Just rampant desire unchained.

Grow up.  Think.  Feel.

Find a way to live right.

Be the difference.

It's lonely.

I want out, going to get out, I DON'T WANT CRAP I DON'T NEED FOR CHRISTMAS!

I keep saying, I've said in the past, don't buy me things, I don't want anything.

And so I get stuff I haven't even opened, shampoo when I don't have any hair.

Crap I can't use, it makes you feel good to be a little robot, and purchase stuff.

We've lost our way and it's only getting worse and it's making me hurt so bad...

And so I try to find ways to get out of my head and into my heart, reconnect...

To nature.  Breath, feel, intuit, because this life is killing me bit by bit by bit.

Every time I wake up there are moments when I wish I was still asleep.

Could drop off and never wake up again, but that's still my own hurts.

Regaining lots of aspects of psychosocial development, growing up.

I don't like this version of me, the chained to the t.v. guy was ok.

He went to work, he didn't enjoy it, he just numbed himself.

With drink and drugs for years, he hid away from pain.

From the pain the world is feeling, the planet.

Life is dying, the oceans, the landmasses.

Waters and air polluted, a sickness.

Spreading to the virginal spaces.

Into the tribal places.

We're killing.

Us all.

Daft thing is that there are too many people, the rich will try to protect themselves.

Buy an island, a bunker, a massive estate with provisions aplenty.

We all feel the fragility, we're all on a war footing.

No wonder everyone is just fucking.

Like it's going out of fashion.

The blitz is under way.

Again, only quietly.

You see it has to be.

That we contain ourselves.

Don't shout in public.

Don't upset them.

Let them eat themselves into a calorific stupor.

Don't get me wrong I'm connected, I'm doing it too, eating too much, I'm putting on weight.

I'm doing all sorts of things, sleep walking through life, desperation all over my face.

Can't sit down, finding things to do, going into my winter fuck this placeness.

Written in every cell is the desire for this whole thing to implode.

So that we can be free, I'll just continue trying.

Only I worry my efforts fall on deaf ears.

Or that maybe I'm making things worse.

Wouldn't you prefer ignorance?

Carry on regardless.

The status quo.

There's too much temptation, I could find out the end of something that only just came out, spoliers everywhere, the ease with which I could ruin everything for myself, the ease with which I can eat myself into an early grave, the difficulty to start, keep good habits, so fucking easy to just live the way we're told to.

I always thought that the ebb and flow was natural, the highs and lows were a rhythm ongoing.

That my friends were suffering as was I, and maybe they are, in time.

All connected, I am trying to make amends, reconnect.

Work out this place, the stuff that happened.

When I was a child I was enveloped.

By a shadow in my room.

I choked, and let go.

I was freed.

I spoke to my grandparents.

I smelled roses.

I was in so much pain at one point that I asked for a reprieve, I asked whoever was out there.

Give me a chance to pay off my debts, and I soon forgot, I went back to my habits.

I turned my back on the ways in which I could turn things around.

I'm a lazy person, I work hard when I need to.

Then I relax and want an easy life.

I wonder how bad things are.

Out there, outside this lab.

This labyrinth, this maze,

you see I feel that's what it is.

We're the mice and rats, the subjects.

It's all such an irony wherever we're from.

I've learn't so much that it's all so confused.

I used to think I had a clue, now I don't really.

I'm not sure I want to know anymore, the answers.

Just want it over and done with, for everyone to get a break.

Sort out this mess once and for all.  Without pain and death, maybe no life.

Would exist, without destruction, no creation, without those, nothing to speak of.

No word, for the beginning...

Doesn't make any sense to me, gobbledegook, the lot of it, what I think, what I write, what I say.

And I'm back to having very little but wise arsed, witty replies, I don't start many chats.

Have very little that I believe that I can say, I don't want to scare people.

Folk tales, impressions, the past the future, the present all colliding,

that's what I think is happening, into a mishmash of shitstorms.

We've bombed people to death for too long.

They used an island that was nuked in the new James Bond film and said it was deserted when the bad guy put out a message that there had been an industrial accident, all they had to do was warn the folks, danger was coming and they bugged out.  I think it was in very bad taste that they did that, although it did look eerily fucked up, the island, all rusty and chernobyl-like, people push bikes, childrens toys, people lives, abandoned, no bodies left...

It's a cliche, we're a cliche, we've gotten to the end, everything is melding and morphing into a pastiche.

A collage, a college for the damned, everything had to go right for the present to be created from the disastrous mess that was the second world war, so many things that could have gone the other way didn't.

The odds against astronomical, and in the space that remains, a world we're supposed to celebrate.

Commiserate soon about the fallen, who died to leave us a chance, a tiny fraction of one.

To make the future of this world, the freedom of this world continue.

Every day we need a miracle for life to carry on.

We need some kind of magical intervention.

We have to be our own saviours.

Stand up and be counted.

Do the right thing.

Love one another.

Despite, in spite of,

Everything that tells us,

To lust after things and each other.

To numb ourselves, grow old disgracefully,

Make ourselves ill by trying to be something we're not.

Turn ourselves into sheer robots, fake filled models, forgeries.

Each of us unique, capable of so much, feeling so little, so tired.

We don't sleep, it's accelerating, I want this over for good or for bad.

I'm impatient for something to happen, it can't go on like this,

I wish us all the best, finally disciplining myself.

Finally opening up, it's not easy.

I never wanted to love,

cos it hurts so bad,

but it cures.