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Optimistic Skeptic

I’m an optimistic skeptic, on an apocalyptic picnic.
Hectically eclectic, check me, I’ve already wrecked it.
Nonchalant dominance,
through circumspect resonance.

Fuck the status quo, dough ain’t all I know.
I grow, to sow
the knowledge of emancipation from desecration and emaciation.

Evolve or dissolve,
and absolve to resolve.

We have to unite, or it’s, “goodnight!”
Prioritize intellect, or it’s disrespect.

Stay well-read, instead of brain dead.
To have not simply said, is no better than to have hid in bed.

I can feel an empath from a heartbeat away.
I can smell a fascist from a dollar astray.

Celestially elemental, transiently eternal.
Intuitively knowing, logically bestowing.

I’m in the know, like UFOs,
up in the stars, like Tesla with cars.
Matrix bros ask, “So?!”
Since their scars disbarred them from Mars.

Too abstract,
to detract
from.
Too detailed
to get derailed,
um,
you’re getting impaled
if you think my people need jailed.

You’ve already been told
that we’re not sold,
so telling us to hold
is just really old.

If you fear me, you endear me with your subconscious.
If you hate me, admit you wanna date me, I promise:

I’ll let you down easy on the bed of nails that you built for yourself.
And if you don’t go, you’ll drown, until you connect the source of your health.

The source is love force, yet,
no remorse for the fashionable concourse,
if they force us into a con’s course,
they’re a trojan horse.

To conjugate bliss, please
eradicate dis-ease.

The logic is there,
if you don’t care
to share,
just give up your own air.

My purpose can’t be impersonated.
Eternal liberation drive, unsatiated.

Look around,
crooks abound.
Look inside,
Earth and stars, my bride.

Landscape, landslide,
skyscape, skyslide.
Some think that I hide,
but to the material world, I died.

What was I reborn into?
Well… Try me.