index | top | about

¬ dieselampel / tracks






¬ t r a c k s # 1

  Brighter in the morning, those light-flooded corridors mirror our
minds. improvise, think and fall half asleepafter missing an
announcement that you wouldn't understand anyway.

  Its refrain "unplug ME, honey, if you think its for the best, hahaha,
please i dont wanna die like A dog, hahaha").
Where are we now, with me suddenly in a particular area which reminds me
of a scrap heap of iron, the atmosphere of industrial production flows,
the tools abandoned and if no soul is far to be seen we know behind it
is only blue sky.

  We noticed we were beyond the highest point and then into an abyss in a rush,
a large advertising board, with the usual stupid advertisements, sketched
from concrete to be seen as shelter.
Some tracks disappear in the darkness under the grey engines above.
At this speed unpleasant vibration becomes noticeable: this condition can
actually only worsen.
The coffee is still warm, me sitting in between all the Zombies, and I am one
of them now. Here, in this moment they think like me, who knows....

  Apart from the surface and the graffitti the roofs are infested with forests
of antenna, signatures which one hears like the call of a muezzin,
there are pictures, which remain in your head for a while.
Like the indiscernible sorts of rain, blue/yellow lights and a thousand Watts
of a lost moment clearly before my eyes. The city doesn't extract itself.

  It comes as it comes. As it must come.
Technical defects: game over. [ INSERT here ]: game over. Crash into iron
and steer into the right. One second will set the signal, 5 more seconds
ensure all possible ways around sucking satan`s cock fail.
Apologies confirm the rule. It has become cold throughout the country,
inhospitable, but it seems as if Light and Shade turn into a face.
If you fear don't go for it! Go behind it and continue over light moments,
experiences, which you feel as such.......

  A system of rules you knew and that you were living your life by, and you
dismiss assumptions; there is much you quietly take for granted.
You know you know it, but somehow, it takes something more for you to recognise it.
Adjust your good librarian, again as sharp as fragments of blades. War is peace.
Ignore or notice. Whether fiction, exaggerated reality or otherwise, what should be,
a dream that did not produce a thought. Sometimes it is written again,
told as an old history with new words.

  Your final score was 0.
--"service or service attribute at present not possible.' (arcor ' 02)


made with a babelfished edit (German-English) from the wasserherz-list.
max ensslin ~:) 18.dec02 2nd draft