Relief Outlet

The Windup Girl by xanderhyde on Deviant Art

The Windup Girl
by xanderhyde on Deviant Art

All women appear to experience a form of ‘enforced sexual servitude’ at some point in their lives, married or not, and is a fundamental feminist observation 

That her body is already pre-appropriated for a specific purpose or task

A political pawn, necessary to replenish the population / army / work force / state procreation

And, or, the pleasure principal, a distraction from critical debate

Should bodies or relationships be controlled, choices contrived, towards an engineered trajectory? 

Is free love really free? 

Strange sexual transgressions pushing the boundaries of accepted normality

Beyond the regulated range of the consumer market-bubble

That excludes personal liberty

Blind eyes are turned, just so long as its profitable

The public are force-fed a diet of highly controlled fictional imagery, a daily bombardment

Provides a carefully manufactured façade of illusion presented as usual

To manipulate things being done a certain way

Lulled into a false sense of insecurity and self-rejection

As one attempts to dismantle the edifice of patriarchal tradition

Sinking like quicksand, side-effects of conformity, fraught with hidden murky 

Undertones that require regular quick-fix, relief-outlets

From the suppressed, repressed emotions

Of rib-less culture struggles, the queerest folk of the post-millennium

Age of narcissism

Driven by the machine of desire, overloaded with sensationalist titillation

Stretched beyond ones misshapen limits, and all tantric recognition

Inspired by Monique Wittig and Jennifer Doyle

✩ Smart City



Today’s smart city

Is where training and education

Stopped being about following

Ones true vocation

And somehow became all about conditioning

Schooled to become another brick in the wall

Another cog in the machine

Drilled in

From such an early age it manifests as the new religion

Where each new emerging generation

Shops til they drop

Til they’re so far in debt

They become trapped in a prison

Of desire and consumerism

Seduced by product placement and subliminal advertising

Victim of a society built upon capitalism

No escape

Do not pass ‘Go’

Do not collect ‘£200’

Do not buy a hotel, (let alone ones own house)

In fact go straight to jail

Caged like a wild animal in a zoo

That ate the bait

Who swallowed the smart-sim pill

Herded along

With all the other must do’s and should have done’s

On the road to ‘Blandsville’, in downtown ‘Homogenisation’

Complete abdication

Of ones ability to think for ones-self

From womb to tomb

And into total annihilation

Dot to Dot

How many years did I lose?

How can I get back to that place of innocent joy?

Where my heart’s journey started

Lost inside a huge mansion of distraction

Desperately trying to fight my way out

But the front door is locked

And all the windows are barred

Running along corridor after corridor

Room after room, another world within a world

Searching for a secret passage-way, or a key

Or even a little note beside a bottle that says: ‘drink me’

For it feels like such a long time ago

Since I last saw the light of day

Breathing in the fresh airs of inspiration

That I’d almost forgotten what freedom is like

Incarcerated in this life long prison of human illusion

Where the lives of others lure you in

Distract you, seduce you, make you forget who you really are…

Although in my head, I’ve already figured out my escape a thousand times already

Where I’d go, what I’d do, who I’d be…

But upon waking I can only recall my memories vaguely

Which is the right way to go?

For all the landings, stair-wells, and corridors appear the same…

Was it right, or was it left?

Suddenly I realise the corridors are expanding, getting longer

With even more rooms and more doors, a crisis occurs

Unable to connect up the dots I fear I may never get out of here

The constellations seem to be morphing into unfamiliar shapes

And unrecognisable landscapes

Where is north?

The gaps in-between the dots seem even further apart than ever before

With no idea where the next dot is

Or even if there is supposed to be another one?

A reminder that nothing is ever what it seems

My only hope is to retrace the dots back to square one

Rewinding my life back to the beginning

To my first memories of joy

When my journey first began

Where I can reconnect with my true purpose

Suddenly new dots appear like twinkling stars of hope

Little dots connecting up the big dots, bright dots, and dim dots

Dots in-between dots, and dots on-top-of dots

Starts the ball rolling all-over-again

Recovering all those lost years, stolen moments of now

I’ve found another way

The door swings open

It’s a new dawn, and a new day