Yo
First of all son - peep the arson
Because many of my thoughts are screaming like some kind of manic noise
Now I'm becoming the sophisticated master of picking up the details from them
Outer minds, intergalactic bursts in a macro scale
Moving visuals are panoramic
To cover the vertigo eyes wanting to hold on to the static
While escaping the flawed consciousness of everything
Hitting both sides of the skull
They can't find the sobriety without a mess that holds them all
So if I could look deep into myself since I see now
I would say I got blind
By the lack of light
Nothing could've been done
Though I woke up without asking "how am I feeling?"
That was pointless and already done
Shit, that's so obvious as annoying and blinding is the sun
Paralysed like I was hit by a lightning
But without a light and without a struck
Disappointed curious child coming back to the blissful past
Finding nothing in something
And filling something in nothing
That's the best yo
That's the best that got the best out of me
Since then I don't know where am I going
But I am still sorry
Of all of those wonderful glories of my worries
That over dominated the wonderful twists of my emotions
That used to define me but now I'm nauseous

Escape from Hierarchical Perception of Feelings
Escape from Hierarchical Perception of Feelings
Escape from Hierarchical Perception of Feelings

My homie is still floating all around his mind that's blowing
In ultra-ballistic crowds of deliriums and afterimages that are screaming
Hyper-realistic, fast-forward, flat surface polished
Because we already know
What the fuck we've fucking just accomplished!
We've won, we are already drinking liquor
Cheers, because
I'm so real yo
I'm so real yo
Like Salvador Dali's "Face of War"
At the first glance that was a chance, I'm all for it and all in
And now 'bout to fall in
The constant falling
Where there's no horizons that can be broadened
But that self-esteem is fucking me over
But that's good cause there's always something over
Micro-macros - I'm here
Stretched like elastane
Desperate for a sustain of my continuable lasts
In the bleak fog of the formless entities at last
Your words on a lime-smeared glass
I know that you are there but you aren't really there
In the storm of euphemisms somehow I lost you
My presence is ambiguous
I mean imageless
I mean- fuck!
Not clear
That is the last thing it'll probably prevail
Where it will reach the finish fixed line
Where only then I will be fixed
Crushing loneliness is never running out of steam
In the netherworld of electric waves coalescing in the atmosphere