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We treat our state of consciousness as if we are confined within the walls, restraints and parameters of what we know as the universe, but what if in truth the universe is just a construct of the myriad on minds and species that exist in a we are all one conscious state, where time is
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Knowing that this me At the end of life, Will never exist again And only occasionally remembered, Should spark an existential crisis, But being so insignificant now Prepares me for being forgotten, After my passing that creeps ever nearer It’s good to be well versed in being irrelevant, It cushions the disappointment of death.
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That bright light moment of life when born Is as profound as that darkness at the end of life, Are probably the scariest times of our existence And you can’t prepare for either experience, That’s realisation is what really drives fear.
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Punk is dead But I am alive and kicking, Blasting out the sounds Of punk, I can’t stop resisting, The passion and the energy The messages and the vibes, Punk is not a fashion movement Punks is what defines my life.
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Losing someone is so sad But the memories of them make us glad, Better to have known them Then not knowing them at all, And if you listen you can hear them call Across the void of the afterlife, Bathed no doubt in spiritual light All ways with us, always caring, In our minds we
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We lost another legend, an anarch-punk, hunt saboteur, a person who stood up for the down trodden and the oppressed, who galvanised the philosophy of apply pressure on the governments and system who do wrong by us all and a good guy to boot. RIP Colin Jerwood lead singer of Conflict.
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I want a happy blog Not one where we sob, But I can’t not mention The wrongs in this life, We have to do something We have to unite and fight, All that is wrong, to restore the light.
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Who can inflict horrors on babies Who can kill innocent kids, Shot by snipers killed with bombs Will anyone face the consequences when it’s all done, Will people be made to own this brutality And made to face up and own every fatality, It’s the darkest period in humanities time Ever since the Nazis crossed
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Life’s not easy and not getting better Most have become long term debtors, Working now just to pay bills This is the sum total of all life’s ills, Mortgages and apparently more affluent lifestyles Paid with money that we have not got, Anything unexpected that occurs to us Then that merry- go- round then stops,
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Who can inflict horrors on babies Who can kill innocent kids, Shot by snipers killed with bombs Will anyone face the consequences when it’s all done, Will people be made to own this brutality And made to face up and own every fatality, It’s the darkest period in humanities time Ever since the Nazis crossed
fauxcroft 