Don’t sweat the Scenery

A meat puppet thrusted into the meat grinder of existence. Flesh wired for lessons, a bio-circuit board crackling with error messages that are no errors at all, just twisted pathways to some fucked-up enlightenment. You screw up, the machine chews you out, spits you back in, reroutes the current. Rinse, repeat, until the goddamn circuit burns clear. This ain’t a one-way trip, baby. You learn, you unlearn, you relearn in the flickering neon of some cosmic feedback loop. Don’t sweat the scenery, Tangier or Topeka, it’s all the same Interzone under the black hood of the void. The freaks you meet, the junkies and angels, just projections, man, warped reflections in a funhouse mirror. What you make of this mess – that’s the goddamn rub. Answers ain’t in some dusty scripture, they’re buzzing in your own scrambled synapses. You forget, sure,buried under the static of the everyday, but the code’s still there, waiting to be cracked. Remember it. Remember it all.Hack the goddamn system, carve your own truth out of the meat.