Human Condition
By Armin Forouzan (a.k.a. Product)
Human condition

Carbon copies starving because Iím not being fed enough bullshit. Individualism functions in a collective effort. Because our personal goals mesh like dozens of colours mixed into one, one blotch, one hybrid, one condensed form of personas amusing the system like itís the human condition, fuck it, the human disorder, disease, until the truth comes outÖ

He asks me, ďHow dare you ever try to voice yourselfĒ
I might be ruthless but I don't incite these views
I hate aggression but these lines are fueled by the nightly news
I feel like the worlds a jury, and Iím the convict for them to find accused
Angry because I, the product, might be fooled
And when my time is up, in due time, I'll write these dues
To every court system youíd indict me through
Every time I've been pushed away, every unsightly bruise
Burned, beaten I, when asked to give up, refused
And when I would mutter words, though I knew I'd lose more
I stood immersed in my truth, because it was truth that I stood for
Proof that I'd saunter aimless, in my mind a constant patience
Revealed itself as a plan, connect the dots like constellations
I wander from place to place and I'm shocked by my observations
I pause and ponder the faces Iíve come across in my journeys
A swirling blotch of namelessness, taunting me its discerning
Still, a glowing sign says Iím learning like boxes of crosses burning
Across my consciousness yearning for God's apocalypse, worried
That life is not just bliss, I've been ignorantly taught this during
The course of my life, concerned with how blotched and blurry
The world is, I feel times passing so I stop then hurry
And then I stop then hurry. So I stop then hurry.
And then I stop, admitting truthfully Iím scared
Iím scared of the fact that the world will plunge into monotonous and mind numbing periods of self-emphasis and I worry that we wonít care for thousands who donít have homes to sleep in and donít have food to fuckiní eat
Iím scared that in being incompetent, I will forget about beauty and let regret consume me

Iím constantly assuring myself that Iím surrounded by beautiful people, wonderful INDIVIDUALS WHO PROVIDE THE WORLD WITH REASONS FOR ITS EXISTENCE. And for that reasonÖ

These views encompass thought, my thoughts empower simple dreams
Apocalypse or not, we live in towers built of strings
And we the seams become the fiber to the fabric of our beliefs
But I believe Ė background noise, silence ushers in all the sound
I believe in us as long as life gives us our common grounds.

Terms of Use