Some thoughts are mad, some madmen think
20.05.2024
When you don't want to talk about politics
Is it because you don't know what happened in 1949,
Or is it the fear that you don't actually have an opinion?
An informed opinion.
An informed opinion?
What even is that?
Isn't it just patching together bits of history,
other people's opinions
and fake news?
Isn't it worse than having no opinion at all?
An opinion stolen so shamelessly,
Wrap it in irridiscent cellophane and pretend it's yours, pretend it's your offspring which you took to kindergarten every single day
And now it's grown up, ready to roam the world
You are so proud.
"Sorry, you are NOT the father!"
The audience gasps.
But if all our opinions sprout from the same seed,
Are we any better than the stream of ants rushing to the crumb of bread I dropped on the ground during lunch break?
This observation begs the question:
Who is the mother that births our thoughts?
Is it God, perhaps?
The government, or "they", so mysterious and so out there
I'm not sure.
But I'm sure I won't postpone my opinions for later,
My thoughts shall run free
Wild and fast like horses on a green field
No longer bound by the chains of insecurity
There is no fear, there is no right and wrong
there's only thought.
Reality is fake,
Giraffes don't exists,
Politicians are puppets of the rich,
And birds are drones owned by the government
Yes, they're watching you
They're watching you get undressed
They're watching you cross the street on a red light
They know.
And your ads, the ones that pop up after you talk to your friends about how you'd want to get a pillow for your desk chair because your back hurts after sitting 8 hours a day, 5 days a week
They're listening to you!
They have microphones in your walls,
On the streets,
Everywhere!
The only safe space is inside your head
But not for long,
So think
Think what you want to think
All those thoughts,
think them
Think them now!
Is it because you don't know what happened in 1949,
Or is it the fear that you don't actually have an opinion?
An informed opinion.
An informed opinion?
What even is that?
Isn't it just patching together bits of history,
other people's opinions
and fake news?
Isn't it worse than having no opinion at all?
An opinion stolen so shamelessly,
Wrap it in irridiscent cellophane and pretend it's yours, pretend it's your offspring which you took to kindergarten every single day
And now it's grown up, ready to roam the world
You are so proud.
"Sorry, you are NOT the father!"
The audience gasps.
But if all our opinions sprout from the same seed,
Are we any better than the stream of ants rushing to the crumb of bread I dropped on the ground during lunch break?
This observation begs the question:
Who is the mother that births our thoughts?
Is it God, perhaps?
The government, or "they", so mysterious and so out there
I'm not sure.
But I'm sure I won't postpone my opinions for later,
My thoughts shall run free
Wild and fast like horses on a green field
No longer bound by the chains of insecurity
There is no fear, there is no right and wrong
there's only thought.
Reality is fake,
Giraffes don't exists,
Politicians are puppets of the rich,
And birds are drones owned by the government
Yes, they're watching you
They're watching you get undressed
They're watching you cross the street on a red light
They know.
And your ads, the ones that pop up after you talk to your friends about how you'd want to get a pillow for your desk chair because your back hurts after sitting 8 hours a day, 5 days a week
They're listening to you!
They have microphones in your walls,
On the streets,
Everywhere!
The only safe space is inside your head
But not for long,
So think
Think what you want to think
All those thoughts,
think them
Think them now!
