"Turning into myself
I wanted to bite not destroy" Banquet - Bloc Party
What are we really?
Incandescent surprises trapped behind fraudulent facades? Some of us.
Shell casings full of sideways, pilfering bullets? Some of us.
I spent hours staring and saw absolutely nothing. Nothing didn't stare back, but it did look right through me.
We are all "hot", but just too cool to know what to do with that.
Being bored with that concept was about four exits back for me.
Nobody listens anymore; we're only quiet when waiting for our turn to spew.
Just a bunch of dicks set on "output" only, every last one of us.
Dying to be heard and screaming to be seen, but earnestly trying to grow an extra set of hands to cover our ears and eyes in unison so nothing creeps in.
Fear of losing yourself into what you hear or see, becoming them. Or fear that you won't.
The separation, the disconnect - it all becomes suffocating. Everyone wants to be understood, but no one wants to understand.
We can't all point in one direction. Someone has to Yin and someone else has to Yang.
Receptive, receptors, receiving.
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Bloc Party
By Bloc Party
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6 years ago
