Its that baseline in your spine.
The ringing in your ears.
It’s the toxic venom inside your frustration
Swimming in your arteries.
Its the noise you’re trying to drown out with vodka, and tv, and blow jobs, and Ambien, and pot, and depression.
Its the thing you want to lift over your head and throw through the window.
Its the window you want to throw something through.
It’s the reason you don’t talk about fight club.
Its the helplessness of human neglect.
It’s the fear of the unconscious.
It’s the purposeful avoidance of truth.
Its the manner in which you are being mind-fucked, but cant prove it.
It taunts you with possibility.
Whether you like it or not, here is the moment.
And here is the secret.
Rage is an illiterate coward.
Unable to read the signs and too afraid to try.
“The circle of hatred continues unless we react.
We gotta take the power back.”
with love, and Rage Against the Machine,