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Cash Avenue

Cash Avenue The urban myth is planting its elements in the sky. The escaped gases, leaping in brazen attempts to be relevant in society. Persecution, being the currency of hate, limited futures to those who act as if they represent anyone and everyone. Custom dictates that values are spread to the population, being lulled into submission by the constant drone of cell phones, demanding exception to escape the hazy drug dominating society. People are fooled into thinking they are part of something. My loyalties are separate to the holy alliance of spiritual leaders. Ambushing, the tribal realities, consists of a handful of expressions spoken in several tongues. The leaders scrambling to use their influence to buck the establishment. Embarking on the theory that a handful of seeds creates a world of doom. Nothing that shines, simulates a colony, in accordance with the assumption, that a mathematical formula will appear and the opinions of the few will dominate over the wishes of the others. This further explains how a single entity, can distribute enough velocity, to change the course of nature and life. The real currency is love and hate distributed equally in various amounts. Levitation is causing insects to be unbalanced. They are reacting in skittish, almost psychotic behavior creating anxiety in the air. Bicycle messengers, carrying the secrets, laughing publicly. Exceptions watching television, a lost art. The greatest truth teller of the day executed in public. His head exploded on-line in angles only imagined. The long Sun stopped shining, there is silence in the air. A sickness is embedded in the society, lack of embellishment a staple. Language and paint are the new money.

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