Fright Nightingale

Horrors, oh the horrors of the night. The horrors of the plight. The plight of the horrors. Horrors out of spite. No one can dare calling me a nightingale of the fright night. The lonesome night. Oh starry bright. Oh starry bright. The caretakers galore of a tyrant ruling out of spite. Oh starry bright. Oh starry bright. Night.

Obsession of the oneness found within social inequality. The norms of a battleminded society. The grimy feeling of a mind torn by meddling in the affairs of a father. The qualms of a man torn to sunder. Oh the midmorning right to light a man out to stop a fight. Fright night. Is there a right to start a fight? Is there no right to end a fight?

We must declare that a fair fight, is the sorrow of a man or woman set to light a man to end it before it ceases the night. A night of a knight, is a night to remember, not regret. A night not of jowlery, but of crackling rite. Where the knight seeks the nightingale fright. The fright nightingale. Stalking little children. Scaring them all night. The fright nightingale is a dimless creature setting the world alight. Setting the world alight. Oh starry knight.

Oh the rafters of tomorrow, is filled with wit and glee. The knight is saving the world for you and me. The world as it is set alight by the fright. The frightened. The nightingales of the frightened, brings home hare. The hare brings home something to care. The frightened knights do not deem it worthy to dare so the jowlery kicks in and fright nightingale has one less thing to take not of or to care.

I yowl to the moon, I growl to the gloom. It is so easy to share. It is so easy to care. What an honourable thing it used to be in the eyes of the mighty. We consoled their broken homes standing in the face of the frighty. The frighty is not so mighty. It is their plight that makes them so mighty. To be ridden of work or labour or slave driven mentalities. The mundane they claim it to be. The mundane they claim it to be freely. They are lazy, they are poor, they are here to be a Moor. A Moor of a man is a man without a moor. A moor is a man that is poor. For Allah died and so did his son Heysoien. Poor man he was. Mohammed they call him. A flightless bird without a right arm. A flightless bird without a tooth to charm.

He is the one reason they despair. He is the one reason why we still care. Oh Allah, oh Allah, where hast Thou gone? The Christian and Jew is killing us along. They kill our souls, they kill our woes. They destroy what is left, they destroy what is right. They dare not be along our side asailing above the plight. Feeding our minds. Feeding our souls. Feeding our kinds. Oh Allah, oh Allah, where hast Thou gone? Where has thou beauty gone wrong? In our minds, in our kinds, in our soles, united they stood stall. They did not have a glorious plan to overset our goal. Which is to be kind, which is to mind, which is to free our souls for all humankind. It is kind to mind, it is kind to mind.

Fright nightingale of the Wale. Fright nightingale of the Wale. The beast has been set loose. Transgression are let loose. We do not mind. We do not mind. Our frightened souls has become too blind. Our frightened souls are not kind. There is but one glimmer of hope. And that is too despair. The sickness unto death. The sickness unto death. The solitude of a blinded mind, leads to agitation, aggression, positive delusions, mad confusions. Rehabilitation is sorely found, for one has to realize that one is no longer around.

Social cohesiveness is not a generalized affair, it is merely understood fully by those who care. Realize that the mind of a minded mind is merely a unique possible kind to find for the road of the blind. Never do they realize how it may feel to be real. For to feel when you are real, is to never realize that you steal. Be not afraid to be alone or at home. Be not afraid oh frightened knight. Tossing members of our kind do not mind what it is that they'll find. They feel as if it is appointed unto them that the freedom they have found with another is something not to be found unto them. Unto them solitude is curse, solitude is the Devilish verse. It is a curse. It is a curse. But nay, how dare they over there not mind what it is that we find. They believe that they find the only thing that we mind. But they do not mind that we find that which they also mind. We do not have friends or communication with another to lead us like the blind. For the blind also find which we do not find with the right mind.

The right mind is the mind that we find. The rite mind is the mind that they find. Let's not generalize then some more, but have I?

Consider this:

A madman sings, no, screams out loud. The others are the ones who label him as mad, though

for without their judgement, their prejudice, he would be sane. Their opinion, their behaviour,

their contempt is without foundation, without a base, they are merely rotten to the core, for

they want all to be the same, to be like them. Free yourself from tyranny, by not being a tyrant.

Either way, a madman only screams when he is screaming out loud at someone. For he is not mad as I stated by being a screaming man by himself. He is merely a screaming man.

Once upon a time he set out loose, wandering about. Something other than nothing came into his way and called out for a shout. It was a man! It was a man. It was a bittersweet man! I am a woman, a woman that knows no man, but because I am with a man, that knows no man, I must know this man, to know my man, and I must know my man to know this man. I know this man, I know that man, I know every man therefor! A man is a man, and I am a woman, that knows one man, because I know another man, and because I know another man, I know that man, and because that man is like that man, and that man is like that man, the bittersweet man must be like those men! But he is not. He is not that man! He is not that man. He is not like that man, or that man, or those men. He is not a man then. He must become no man. A woman. (the same can be applied the other way around) Either way she is tired that he is not like that man, or that man, or that not all the men are the same, for she wants all men, because to possess all men are like a game. But a game is not a game, when a game carries shame. A game is not a game when you start accusing the ones already carrying shame. A game is not a game when a game is not a game. A game is not shame, when it is a game, but it became no game when the game became a game of shame and blame.

The world turns as we are all possessed. We are all possessed. For maybe there are a score to settle that holds the key to the open door. The door for a world without war. A door for a world without more of that which we hold for the bore or the bore for the more. A war is a door to the end of a war, a war is a war to end even the door. The door is the end of the war. The war is the end of the door. But without war there can be a door, and without a door there can be a war. A war for a door. A door for a war. Closets filled with secrets of disguise, a closet filled with secrets of lies. A closet filled with a laundromats bill and a skillets will. A closet that dies.

Crazy methods of the mind, seeking solace in the society of the kind. Meaningful madness. Meaningless sanity. Drink to mind, mind to drink. Kind to mind, mind to kind. Find what you seek before your mind goes blind for the meek. Meek the mind, mind the meek. They may be of assistance even though you don't even know to whom to speak. You think it's poor to be meek, or that the meek is poor. The impoverished lot of our day is not the one to find the answers for your celebrity. The celebrity is not the answer to be found in your destiny. It is absurd to believe that a human does not have a memory, and neither a goat. A goat has a memory for a goat is minding its mind. Think it through to assume hierarchy over another and insult the Jew is to relinquish your kinded mind in the society of the mind into the realms of you know who. Nomansland awaits thee. Be careful whom thou insults for your insults last long in their memory. Their memory in your insults. Don't hate them more freely. You become obsessed towards insanity. Hate hate hate. Hate hate hate. What for? Either way the impoverished lot is still not the answer even though that was all one was looking for. To relate better to the ones who want to settle no score, but to score with you forever more. Even though they are not the ones, as I stated to find the answers in this war. I swear it.

Consideration nation, fascist indoctrination. Gangsterism was at some point in time a crime, now it sells more than it used to for a nickle and a dime. A crime is a time of glorious isolation from the sordid mind on a capitalistic nation. A nation not set on materialistic, but rather a psychopathological need. A need to penerate the delusional and infantile humaness of need. To clarify advertising as meanings for endings, and endings for meanings. We drive to stay alive, we drive to stay alive. In society we breed the need to be free from the solitary need. Not generalized I must say, but the impoverished lot even has it their own way. We find it foreign, we find it weak, we find it hard to bite, hard to eat. It is so, for it is not so. When you realize it is not so, it is so, for it is so, since it is not so. Let me clarify. Capitalism is non-existant, materialism and greed is. You want to find it, even everywhere, so you drop down or rise up to a place that you never took to a care. It matters most, if not, at all. It matters most, if not, to all. What is the difference of this previous statement? Can you spot it? Can you seep through its hypocrisy, and share in its delight? Can you share in its treasury without starting a fight?

Your mind is the sole creator of a fight, and a fight is the sole creator of your mind. Why do you think? has finally been answered. I am sure the case has now been settled. It is "challenge" that is the answer. We ceased to challenge, for we challenged to cease. It was someone who had the idea to drop down to their knees. Not to pray, hey!, listen! it is beguiling to note that the only reason to drop down onto ones own joints has something to do with a mind floating a boat, as in religion. Perhaps it was sorrow. Perhaps it was despair. Perhaps it was the real need to show that you care. CPR is the name. CPR perhaps is the reason why we ended up not being game. As in cardiopulmonary resuscitation. Eve was dying or Adam was drowning. Someone had to help. And if there was no one there, who would have the inclination to yelp? As I stated challenge is the reason why we think, not idleness or provocativeness, or necessity, but merely puzzling methodology required for one to be living freely. Perhaps it was minding a stick for food in an anthill or fruity nectar of a beehive down below in our cave. Bees live in caves right? And so do ants. They realize day-in-day-out that a cave is a slave to the one who knows how to behave. A slave is a cave to the ones who do not know how to behave. We must not let our necessity for labour or labourers drive us into despair, we must show that we know how to take a stance for ourselves, to challenge, to care. CPR. CPR. Cardiopulmonary resuscitation. Cardiopulmonary resuscitation.

Can a justified mind be blind, can an unjustified kind mind? Or are they blind? Why do they persist to not mind? Oh! It's because they have corroded and swallowed up all ways to the one that knows even how to lead the blinded mind, or the kinded find. They have already depleted their chances, and now have allowed chaos to persist, the world has gone crazy for the crazy has ceased to exist. Now they realize slowly but surely that it is alright to behave crazy, because the one they have deemed crazy has proven that it is not crazy, so they have merely gone out to recognize to themselves, as we have already to them, that they are already crazy, because they are tired of despair, tired to feel sorrow or to care. They have realized that my point in fact lays bare, that an Orang-Utang is better behaved than a human on a chair.

Fright Nightingale a human of a mare, a human who did not even dare. A lazy animal running free through the woods because it was too shallow to stare. Even the goats have gone silent for the humans are not ready to dare. To stare back into the world that it was set-out for to care. A system has not failed its commerative hold over an animal that held a teddy bear, it was a hedonistic pornographic filmocracy that took hold of the global world and realized its penis is too dysfunctional to care for the ones at home, so it started to consume it all, invaded the privacy of all, to place into their minds a belief that somehow whets the satiability of the human pervert and sadist is still there to fare. But it is not, so it grabbed onto the human with its blessed grasp and never relinquished the madman and madwoman from it grasp. The snuffling goes on, and now for a more diverse song. Chaos. It loses its meaning, even though it had some, and if it does even the minded educated member of society, such as I, will realize that the days are not over even when they say goodbye. For the minded educated member of society, set through the system we have in place since who knows when, is perhaps the reason why most members of our society can count to 10. Nothing else gets them that far. Nothing. I swear it. They are too consumed now with releasing themselves from their shame, that they want the ones they cast out, the ones the blame, to share in their shame. The bittersweet man, will never release his mind to the ones who are blind, for the ones who are blind have even gone so far in todays age to kill us all instead of trying to find the means to listen to the ones who mind. They wait till you sleep. They wait till you sleep. They have nothing to live for, because they believe you're a negative creep. They want to make you suffer, to make you burn, to make their stories mean something and their lies turn. It matters not to me, the one living for eternity. That is why I say chaos is not my way, and neither the way of society, but it is something a minded man such as I, a bittersweet, can accomplish much with even in the inherent irrelevant meaning found in the disbelief of its existence. It is clear. It is clear. They even join in to hold onto something that they find dear. Even if its a beer. An alcoholic or non-alcoholic beverage. Something with reverance, charm, and queerness. Something bottled with extravaganza and fleer. It is true I say. She wants to possess the man, that will live for eternity. For that man is the man, the greatest of all. The man who always know that he is allowed to stand tall. Allowed to even fall. Allowed to crawl through a shawl. The greatest of all men, knows no man, for the greatest of all men is superman.1

1. superman - noun. a man with exceptional physical or mental ability.

He does not dupe, he does not doubt, he does not fear, he does not bout. He does not fear, he does not bout. He does not fear, he does not bout. He does what he does, to see if she and he can go on without. Without a hand, without a hand. Without a hand. Without a hand, a man knows no way, but a superman can live with a hand missing never for a day, for a superman never loses his hand or his head, even for eternity. He is the man, who seeks the truth, for the truth seeks him. The same applies to the woman side of our gene. The same applies to other species aswell. And that is where our story begin, a story I know so well.

He runs, he falls, he cries, he crawls. They know, they care, they try not to stare. They lost their chance, they lost their hall, they lost their minds for a snuffling sex-ball. They have proven to be immoral minds tyrn'd assunder for hypothetical blunder. Crazed lunacy unfounded on negative divinatory belief methods or rather systems. Are systems methods then? Are the methods systematory implications, as in are they placed into realm for the sake of meaningful and dutiful practice and goal or aswell the opposite? Baseless, prejudicial, negative, unending. Guess it! Is it either, or it is or? No! It cannot be true! Either is or, for or is also either. I believe. Yet I may be incorrect. The truth states that a primate such as a human is not destined to reach the outer space of its mind, for its mind is not delving in the outer space of its mind. Ever. I must add. It is sad, that a human such as I, have to realize the infancy of the ones towing along the river of denial, for they are weak, meek and arrogant, they are pretentious, they have no idea what it means to be primitive, they are kaffirs, for they are racist still even. They are niggers, for they are materialistic still even. They are jo-jos for they are useless still even. They don't even write their own books, they don't even write their own names, they don't even know their own names, they don't even know that it has nothing to do with their own names. They are the lost, but who am I to release my attention, my bittersweet for them to be found? Should they not know by now that they are not to be seen in the realms of eternity. A blessing not from God, or the Gods, but from ones own ability to stare ones own darkened mind from copulation or moment of conception, into the light of mind from outer space. As in the lost mind of yours which one have deemed unworthy to explore, for one has always believed that the mind is there for all, and it is the same for all. We do not share mind, we do not share kind. We do not share the outer reaches of space in what we find. Yet the truth is the same, one still has to realize this is not a game. Life is a test. Are you the best? Can you calculate the circumference of the cosmos even though you have the inability to realize that it may not be the jest? As in, can you even conjure up that the crust, or the outer layer itself is thicker than the density of the cosmos itself. As in, the circumference is not found within the inner realm, as in the end of your telescope or periodic table but perhaps on the outside of the crust and beyond? Interesting idea huh? Is it necessary to know the answer? Can one know the answer? Should one know the answer? Is the answer relevant? Is there one? Is it needed? When is the question relevant? Does it even matter? Is it matter? Is there circumference? The answers?

Therapy is single handedly employed by generations to pursue said destiny of a therapeutic society. We are deeming ourselves worthy of fulfilling such a task, for we believe our descendants are able to fulfill said task. It is possible. But let's not assume, let's not believe. Let's be sure. Let's be assured. Can we be? Can the torch be carried into the abyss of a turmoiled world through to a light in shining murmur soon to be considered really lasting? Can one forsake tomorrow, be assured today, let it all go, not worry, not pray? Can we be sure there is a future, in short? I think so. I don't care if you do not. Opinion matters not to me, superman. It matters not to me, Lucifer. It matters not to me, God. It matters not to me, Death. It matters not to me, Caesar. It matters not to me, Buddha. It matters not to me, Pharoah.

It matters not to me. It matters not to me. You and your humanity. It is a lie! It is a lie! It is a farce that I for choose not to die. A scream in the eye. A scream in the eye. A lie for a bi. A lie for a bi. A lie to say goodbye. Our hopes are never shattered until the end. It is the brief encounters that matters. We have post-traumatic shock. We have post-traumatic shock. Our lives has been shattered when a guy that mattered changed his mind. He changed his mind to be kind. To be kind, is why he changed his mind. He changed his mind for humankind. He is now free, he is I, he is the lie, he is the one to die, he is the one to say goodbye, for we do not care about this fucking lie. A lie that we will are to prepare for to die. A lie, only through his broken eye. The eye of the broken I. The I of the broken I. The I of the broken eye.