mmmmmm.hmmmmmm.

Hear it? This lull.

This sort of mid-range hum.

This soothing, calming, in descript sleeping-ness.
I guess you can’t really notice it until you seek it out. It’s the seeking that makes it crack. But sometimes you crack with it.

This cloud like a dream. This cloud like a drug. This cloud of something with no place or time.

Nothing matters. I don’t matter. You certainly don’t matter. This or that.

It doesn’t compute.

Christ. I have so many choices. I can choose something in green or pink. With spots with stripes. The big one. The small one. The ‘I don’t care what you think of me because I’m different’ one. The ‘I’m an up and comer and I have the expensive’ one. The ‘I wish I was an up and comer so I’ll try and fool you into thinking this is the expensive’ one.

And I’ll have it. And I’ll have many like it. And I’ll buy more of them because it’s what keeps this lull peaceful in my head. In my body. In my soul.

I don’t feel anything and that doesn’t matter. So long as my hum. Our hum. Remains intact.

Mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm
This. Mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm

Means I don’t have to worry that my health is shit. That our planet is shit. That people are dying because of me and mine. Because of us and ours.
That people are stepped on and shot at and shit upon because my mmmmmmmm says its hungry and says that bad things sometimes have to happen. But its not my fault. Its not our fault. I didn’t shoot anyone. I didn’t rape anyone. I didn’t tear apart someone’s life.
So see. I shouldn’t worry because there was nothing I could do. Although. Maybe it was a little bit my fault and all our fault.

Now I know why, when a mmmm starts to crack you crack with it. Because its bigger then just a personal mmm. It laughs as it cracks because it knows that you are one. And it is billions strong. That lull. That monstrous mmmmmm says its ok if the world buckles and breaks. That women should be treated like a thing. An object. A piece of gum in our back pocket that can be chewed on and spat out whenever we feel like it. She likes it when I smack her ass. She likes it when I look at her. Up and down all slanty eyed, with my ‘you’re hot let’s fuck’ look. After all. when she feels like shit. She’ll buy whatever our lull will push infront of her to make her better/perkier/sexier. Because that’s what the boys really want ladies.
The mmmm. Says its ok. If people die from things that could have been fixed. It wasn’t us who couldn’t afford the medication so. Why should we give a shit.

My mmmm says its ok for people to hurt everyday. Why else would we have all this medication around. It reminds me of the time I went to the doctors because I didn’t feel quite right. Scary feelings about being outside and with people. And I walked out with a prescription for some tranquilizers and anti-depressants. Which I didn’t fill. And now its my fault I still don’t feel quite right. Not my lulls fault.

Because my lull says that as long as I have things. More things. Everything my little mmmmmmmmmmmmmheartmmmmmmmmmm wants. Nothing else matters. Not you. Not me. Not them. Not us. Not anything.
Not nothing.

Fuck. my lull tells me a lot. I cant remember when I told myself something. When I told someone else something. That wasn’t lull inspired. Have I gone my whole life. Having this lull talk for me. Think for me. Buy for. Me laugh for me. BE fucking me?

I think this lull was trying to kill me.

I will kill my television if it means I will be free.
I will kill my iPod if it means I will be free.
I will kill my car if it means I will be free.
I will kill my corporate sponsored toilet stall if it means I will be free.

Create a consciousness despite our lull. Despite ourselves.