Everything is relative-relatively inane...
Fuck it, fuck everything and everyone! We're all dead aesthetically anyway. Inside we're hollow shells, puppetted by repulsive influences of manufactured grandeur that are presented to us as enlightenment but are actually designed to willingly-blindly. These "Rules of Conduct" are accepted and horrifically, embraced as righteousness by most of us. Some may question it and even go so far as to leaving the protection of the maze. So, we live as hypocrites, speaking of our ideals but, accepting our daily dose of poisonous rhetoric just the same. The empty things they've terrified us into believing we need such as love, acceptance, spiritual balance, and material possessions continue to mindfuck us into abandoning our natural instincts of self-actualization towards a much nobler cause- self-gratification!
Then of course there's punk rock. It penetrates my true inner being (in the cosmic sense, definitely not the spiritual/mythological) it arouses my senses with the sound of color, the taste of vibration, and the incandescent glow of nonsense. Essentially, punk rock is the antithesis of the oppressively sinister machine I've just described. In its truest form it liberates the uncomplicated pure inner self I strive to rediscover. It encourages the blissful mayhem and discord within me.
Punk is the essence of the darkest of my animalistic impulses come to life, it's my beauty, my energy, and the mockery of my pride. Punk is my disease, I suffer not of it but, with it.
Punk is dead because we've never allowed it to live as an entity unto itself. We the foolish minions kill it by talking about it, trying to decipher, categorize, and make sense of it. We should simply experience it and not do it the disservice of thinking about it, but we won't- we've been programmed otherwise.
Punk will live on because it doesn't give a fuck- it'll piss upon us for our delusionary noble efforts on it's behalf to contain it.
I am the most decadent of all cretins for attempting to explain this. To make sense of the senseless- and exercise in futility but then, we all must at least attempt to justify our ineptness mustn't we?
