Real Love.
We want to be free to make real love again. Not digital, agitated, misguided, modern. We want to make love how our forefathers did without so many images implanted on the brain. We want to be turned on by naked bodies not by radiated glowing billboards. We want to lie in the grass with our lovers turned on and spurned by the masters of the universe, not by the masters of the media. We want to believe that love is real, not something you can fake but something you can feel.
I have indulged in the media masturbation and have not come out the wiser. I renounce your falsehoods. I will not be made a monkey robot. I am not your desperate warrior with one hand on my cock and one on the remote control. I throw it out the window along with your checkerboard bullshit football teams, with democrats one side, republicans on the other. I throw out your cookie cutter television talk show teachers. I renounce it all and begin to change my DNA by regarding the ways in which my brainswave.
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