These moments of fly. Swift in there intensity. Stealthy in there approach and merciless in there offensive they consume with absolution. Overwhelming. Addictive. Then in sync these tunes of beats play the symphony I crave. And in my daze I trip and stumble upon these cracks and shatters in perfection. Unhinge your percaline mask painted so perfectly with beauty. Hastily it falls. Pathetically it shatters and bleeds upon paper. An epilogue to your sins. A prologue to your damnation. This raft shows no sign of vertigo. Hardwired to opposition hardwired to competition. Fucking repetition. Because my momentary madness serves no propose in its ruthlessness it taunts and tortures until there be nothing left to skew. Your theories… theories only taunt of the impossible possible. The poisoned candy. The cancer we all want. The fait were all bound to. The fight we will all lose.