EDEN'S AFTER PARTY

The underground has swallowed me up.
I find it curiously dark in here.
Illumination arrives in unexpected ways.
By blue cellphone light.
From a warm orange bic flame cupped in a hand.
Nothing beats hanging with your rebel friends.
On a city sidewalk late at night.
Cases of brews stashed in the trunk of a car.
Empties getting lined up in the gutter.
Everyone keeping their beers down low.
I could really get to like it here.
Too bad they're tearing it down.
Haven't you heard (the screaming across the sky)?
They tear one section of it down.
Another is created from the aftershock.
A falling building (oops) one of their shiny ones.
They're making the whole planet into Disneyworld.
Ironic isn't it though.
Since the best rides are free.
They just aren't regularly scheduled.
Do yourself a favor.
Go to a local underground show.
Its not about the music.
Its about your life.
If you're lucky Sleepytime Gorilla Museum will headline.
Then it's about the music again.
Like a swift punch to the chin.
A shocking caress on the thigh.
Just what would you do without the underground?
Better get moving.
See that pretty city scape.
Encroaching from the horizon.
Getting closer every time you look.
It's corporate Disneyworld.
Arriving like a tide to swallow you up.
Run. Find a dive bar playing a grind show.
Go in and say "Hi" to someone.
Before they spit you back out.
Before you find yourself looking in the mirror.
Before seeing a mannequin staring back at you.
Just another dummy from a department store window.
That doll will soon know more about you than your own self.
Its camera eyes do not lie.
It has more memory storage than google.
Its capacity to remember has grown past yours to forget.
That dummy is working on stealing your ID.
It's got eight of your social security numbers already.
You are on the verge of becoming a nonperson.
Get out of your mirrored closet quick.
Go out the back window why don't you.
Take the fire escape to the street.
Throw your cellphone in the nearest dumpster.
For this adventure you will need your hands.
You will need your feet.
You will need your mouth.
You will use your brain.
Put down that energy drink.
Get yourself some water.
You've been carrying the secret with you this whole time.
The secret to survival.
The secret to success.
The secret to happiness.
The secret to truth.
The secret to all that shit.
It is not the picture of success you've been taught.
You need to be weaned off that matriculation.
This can be dangerous.
Many are convinced their current identity is genuine.
They could die from shock if it were revealed to be otherwise.
There are ways to lessen the impact.
One of the best ways is music.
Start listening to non-corporate, underground music.
Live music works like a neural bath.
The salts of music dissolve programmed restraints.
Hearing music live is necessary for many reasons.
Recorded music instantly becomes injectable.
You are in control of it.
This is not music's real function.
Its real purpose is to possess you entirely.
Its function is to force your inner slave to break free.
To surrender from the prison of your flesh.
To get you dancing.
To throw you into a state without a care in the world.
To abandon yourself to the thrill of being alive.
Recorded music only retains a ghost of this potential.
It is only there as a reminder.
It can be accessed for positive use, yes.
Yet it is equally lethal as a mind destroying drug.
Implemented by corporate benefactors to control you.
To make your body and soul move for them.
Through endless levels of their selfish game.
So forget about your radio and iPod for a bit.
Just let it all go.
What do you smell down this alleyway.
Now that its late.
As the stars burn and scream into the atmosphere.
Focus your hearing on the sounds down the street.
Start moving.
Stick to the shadows.
They will lead you to Eden's after party.