Byline: Digital Blasphemies

Buford Youthward

There's no time for analogy or metaphor in the land of the lost. Life has its own schedule and we have to find our own way to pick the lock.

Conquering and subjugating nature is what we've been conditioned to do. Reaching for an ambition higher than circumstance requires accepting our natural state. This is what organic growth is all about.

Decorations such as music and graffiti live parasitic on the margins of nature and just as melody is the ultimate triumph of form over detail, graffiti is the triumph of will over state, will over power.

Graffiti addicts have at it, servicing craft to inform truth and beauty, creating sublime work from suspect beliefs, running on a love with limited passion and a lust consumed by its own want.

Having love for what something is rather than for what something isn't settles our souls. Helps sleepwalkers slip silently. It allows us to get past our past while presenting a case for the present presents moments of great pretense. But we need to get past this point.

If you have bad shit in your soul, it has to find its way out. So we must go to the devil in our own way, controlling our demons so that we can become the monsters we wish to be.

Borrowing a phrase from Shakespeare, rock stars with voices from the edge leading to the ledge are false pundits "full of sound and fury, signifying nothing." Bonfires of sanity are ceremonies for drunks riding a wave of hiccups.

Great graffiti writers steer clear of potential potholes. They get fixed on simple information knowing the key to all art is in violating expectations. Mastering the mathematics of music, the craft of graffiti, and handling your malt liquor makes for meaningful mood swings.

Anybody that stakes anything against itself talks mad shit. There's no analogy to it. No metaphor to put it in perspective. To speak of things sacred while navigating through the ruins says it all.

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