What's the time?: Safe Sci-Fi Nostalgia, fake security overload

the hairstyle was so strange. family ties, nostalgia rules. machinery leads back to older lifestyles. retro rocket set in stone. colours mark ascent into space-age jolliness. watching scifi reminds you of the possibilities, standards of living, stepped up and marked with the past. shiny and new in 1966. invention rings a bell. foreign houses. always the same place in denial. the crazy collapse of the modern world. tension rises in the corridors. programmed menace questions distortion. the same things questioned by convenience. the smile of the future. birds cracked. colours burst to promote a yes sign. environmental damage covers lonely flight. black trace, half orange, half truth. electricity lie. environmental message projected backwards. hypnotic rambling. loaded cyphers dominate civilization critique acting up. fractioned planet interface. melancholia overdrive. with ghost language. a siren collapses. space age glows into a desert stick. nostalgia fights another corner.

interlude: contemporary music. feel the now in the past. this animal will swallow your past. scratchy voice links the ages. a cry from the future rhymes with a lighthearted pun in the presence. flickering colours represent the next wave that you can't see right now. microphone's a blister right into applause. rotating skies. silhouette of a potential future. home in the background. wires promoting an absence. young face sings old music. woozy street scene. rhythmic interaction wins the day. a southern accent in Chicago, so you understand. filth keeps you going. rain relaxes your instructed positive motivation in sound. lie to the advertisers. sudden rush into meaningless. hiking into your own backyard. freebies snuggle up and overwhelm you. smothered in noisy hug.

hostility wave constructs an alternative screen. competetition drives you away. japanese whispers summon a full blown overwhelming street scene bathed in positivity, light, grace. twinkling little neon lights, you follow the corridor. there's a number hidden in the pompous display. written into the white space. landscaped misery overruled by internal chaos. nightmarish exercise. mother in a darkened interior. halftones with a religious background noise. the noise fog wrecks you as you dim the light. a shot in the arm will heal the time degradation matrix, regulate the breathing so it's streaming to the future. sitting on the toxic other side of everyday life. pleasure disappears into a grey hole. snapshots from the other side. horny sentences swallow lust. a soft touch deletes your account, swallows the time machine and spits you out in a starlit night. caught like a rabbit in the headlights. security overload makes you nervous. textures overload. paranoid interior panorama. therapies write a sunday on your senses. walking through the garden. release control factories. fear diseases. emptying images into a giant trash can. filtering out harsh surfaces. blurry edge upsets an outside wish generator. empty vessels steer into the opposite direction. what are we now? overhead lighting dominates the head. words disappear into black.