ST103 ... Played as fools with fake love

I say i love you but i don't.

Things have changed. New buildings everywhere. Little Berlin with its twin is where i once belonged. The major streets are absolutely transformed into monolith high rise super structures, rails of trams, people of all colours. There are vast intense strangled minds walking everywhere, acting out their folly with rude awakenings, crumpling in the seas of tar and mechanical objects. I'm always on my way with a gang half dead, half insane, bent on strategies to further these warped ways. I say i love them but i don't. I see their crutches squeeze the gentle hearts. They are too quick to be noticed, too slim to fight right, too weak to stand real. They are my sisters, brothers, nieces and nephews of blood, friends and foe and they are the same as us all, swimming in the brown waters of hope.

memories in a faded haze going, going

I see the fake gestures of photo op wannabe celebrities, lost souls demanding to belong to anything, anywhere. The ones whom use the dying to build an image of sympathy with strategic motivated apparent help and care. The sick minds that use others to implement their legacy within a family, in a world. We see them with their crooked smiles and saintly makeup, their perfect timing at the bedsides of death. Family dynamics thru the drama of psychic fraud, the show-offs, the centre of attention, the false hearted sympathy magnets. Every large family seems to have one or two. They want to rule the world. So many get away with it, unnoticed by the numb, the lonely, the sincere blind. I have experienced this as of late within my own family circle all the way to the top. It was a drag to watch. I was a target, a close relative from a distance, a brother used and a user, an intricate mess of years of abuse. A few of us watched as the charade unfolded, family ties, families die. It will all be over soon enough and new generations will scrape off the remnants with ancient tears, fears, and years will stretch on into a future undreamt anew. Love will care and fool and share and divide, love is that sacred substance that can never die but purity from its core is as rare as a sane folk from the streets of deceit.

escape from within the streets of the world

The power struggle moves deep into the brain. It is the same thru-out the world. Fake love plays the fool with self-obsessed powers of evil intent. So many reasons, so many attributes twisted into a mind.
Outside the trees sway with the breeze, nature talks volumes in a flash of a second. Real power, the real underground of love, mother gracious, naturing lessons constantly evolving along these streets in a haze. It is in ‘the way’ to let things flow, watching the river of thought pass on thru an open eye. True power will smother any force, they say, gentle at first but with harsh winds by the end of a day. Death is upon us all. Work diligently towards your own salvation and all will end well, they say.

More and more minds are crushed by the weight of it all, they demand attention, power, control any way they can get it. It’s a disease, a product of the times, from dementia, diabetes, cancers, foods full of nothingness, poisons in small doses over spans of time…needles and waves of heat-killing-energies, insanity on the edge of humanity. It’s all in the heart of the game. The mind sits in the brain, the brain in a body, the body, our one sacred responsibility. A sick mind sits sick in a sick body and thinks it’s well, dies at the bottom of a wishing well…. Love, power, dreams and nitemares, it’s all connected.
It is late, the silence of early dawn is before us, perhaps this is a time to sleep. The first bird has not awakened yet, the air is calm, thought is true slow easy, nature is moving up through the chakras to the stars, things are going to be alright.

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WeyWord Times / Writing and Images by Patrick Wey

Disease of Conceit Lyrics - by Bob Dylan

[Verse 1]
There’s a whole lot of people suffering tonight
From the disease of conceit
Whole lot of people struggling tonight
From the disease of conceit
Comes right down the highway
Straight down the line
Rips into your senses
Through your body and your mind
Nothing about it that’s sweet
The disease of conceit

[Verse 2]
There’s a whole lot of hearts breaking tonight
From the disease of conceit
Whole lot of hearts shaking tonight
From the disease of conceit
Steps into your room
Eats your soul
Over your senses
You have no control
Ain’t nothing too discreet
About the disease of conceit

[Verse 3]
There’s a whole lot of people dying tonight
From the disease of conceit
Whole lot of people crying tonight
From the disease of conceit
Comes right out of nowhere
And you’re down for the count
From the outside world
The pressure will mount
Turn you into a piece of meat
The disease of conceit

[Bridge]
Conceit is a disease
That the doctors got no cure
They’ve done a lot of research on it
But what it is, they’re still not sure

[Verse 4]
There’s a whole lot of people in trouble tonight
From the disease of conceit
Whole lot of people seeing double tonight
From the disease of conceit
Give ya delusions of grandeur
And a evil eye
Give you the idea that
You’re too good to die
Then they bury you from your head to your feet
From the disease of conceit