The Art of Malaka Malaka (Rise Above 'Em) [Verse 1] Jealous cowards try to control! Mean-spirited cloth – cut from the same! Old comments rotting – fourteen years old! Doubling down – you got no shame! [Chorus] Malaka! Malaka! Special Greek word – for scum like you! Malaka! Malaka! Rise above! We're gonna rise above! Vile views – spreading hate and fear! Malaka! Malaka! We ain't taking it – no more! [Verse 2] Who’s next on the list? Indians? Greeks? Vietnamese? Women? Whose next to be cut? Major parties silent – lips sealed tight! Cowards in suits – hiding from the fight! [Chorus] Malaka! Malaka! Pauline and Cory – same rotten core! Malaka! Malaka! Ashamed? You should be ashamed! Hate, division, fear in the air! Malaka! Malaka! We’re calling it out – everywhere! [Bridge] Minorities marginalized – feeling the pain! Unheard, unrepresented – driven insane! This ain’t left or right – it’s decency! Common fucking decency! I’m angry – really bloody angry! How do you get away w...
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Vision 2 - The Unbearable Truth
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The Situation - Red Alert
JB, a middle-aged mail spaceship pilot. Starship piloting JB is held not by ropes, but by the cryo-unit's nanoweave swaddle—a tight, absolute embrace mimicking paranoiac wrappings. This material presses against him, preventing his shivering flesh from flying apart under the centrifugal force of his panic. He feels a cold burn and constant helplessness sinking in.
His anxiety is a crimson klaxon, a "relentless tempest" of warring thoughts. He is mentally back in the cockpit, but the instruments scream in an alien language; every light and warning signifies impending failure. His pure instinct screams ABORT, yet there is no escape route.
Confrontation Rising
JB is shown the war of impulses tearing him apart—the "lunge and the retreat". His existence is reduced to the strained gasp: "I live for fucks sake, I don't know.”
Full Assault a Violet Firestorm
JB responds with explosive, automatic violence, his lungs burning from the primal, desperate push against rising panic.
Vision 2 The Unbearable Truth - Red Alert
Story - Narration
The whisper starts low... curling around the base of my skull like smoke. Some minds... are like black holes.
It isn’t just a thought—it’s a gravitational collapse. I feel my own psyche imploding... a dense singularity sucking in light, logic, and hope—crushing them into nothingness.
Then... the alarm hits.
My anxiety manifests as a deafening... crimson... klaxon. It is a "relentless tempest" of warring thoughts. A hurricane trapped inside a skull.
Suddenly... I am back in the cockpit. But the reality is wrong. The instruments are screaming at me... but the readouts are in an alien language—jagged glyphs I cannot read. Every flashing light is an accusation! Every warning tone signifies a catastrophic failure I. Cannot. Fix.
My instinct—pure... animal... and terrified—screams ABORT! But the canopy is black. There is no vector. There is no escape route.
I am paralyzed by the war of impulses tearing me apart—the violent lunge to fight... and the desperate retreat to hide. I am caught in the friction... grinding my teeth until they threaten to shatter. My entire existence is reduced to a single... strained gasp... forced out through the crushing weight on my chest:
"I live... for fuck's sake... I don't know.”
The Violet Firestorm returns! Hotter this time. I respond with explosive, automatic violence—thrashing against the restraint of the cocoon!
My lungs are burning... scorched by the primal, desperate push against the panic... that is rising like a tide... to drown me.
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The Art of Malaka Malaka (Rise Above 'Em) [Verse 1] Jealous cowards try to control! Mean-spirited cloth – cut from the same! Old comments rotting – fourteen years old! Doubling down – you got no shame! [Chorus] Malaka! Malaka! Special Greek word – for scum like you! Malaka! Malaka! Rise above! We're gonna rise above! Vile views – spreading hate and fear! Malaka! Malaka! We ain't taking it – no more! [Verse 2] Who’s next on the list? Indians? Greeks? Vietnamese? Women? Whose next to be cut? Major parties silent – lips sealed tight! Cowards in suits – hiding from the fight! [Chorus] Malaka! Malaka! Pauline and Cory – same rotten core! Malaka! Malaka! Ashamed? You should be ashamed! Hate, division, fear in the air! Malaka! Malaka! We’re calling it out – everywhere! [Bridge] Minorities marginalized – feeling the pain! Unheard, unrepresented – driven insane! This ain’t left or right – it’s decency! Common fucking decency! I’m angry – really bloody angry! How do you get away w...
The Event Horizon of Regret This is no star map; this is the geography of my own collapse. I am on my knees, the obsidian floor splintering under the weight of what hovers above me. It is a sphere of pure, swirling silence—the Black Hole Mind. It breathes gravity, pulling at the seams of my flight suit, demanding I fold. I try to summon the old fire, to spark some resistance, but my anger manifests only as thin, fractured volleys of violet lightning. They strike the darkness and are instantly swallowed. I am tiny. I am insignificant. And I am being crushed by the density of everything I cannot escape. Be Creative and Innovative with Knowledge John Bennett - AKA JJFBbennett , is an independent artist. You can view and subscribe to my work via Blogger , YouTube , Flicker , Facebook , Instagram and Deviant Art . Subscribe to JJFBbennett's private FB hub: https://www.facebook.com/share/g/18ythpSXPZ/ You can subscribe to my music via YouTube Music , Spotif...
The Embers in the Ice The glass is cold against my cheek, a final barrier I no longer have the strength to break. My breath comes in shallow, ragged hitches, fogging the surface, blurring the world outside into a meaningless grey smear. The violet firestorm that once roared through my neural pathways is dying. I can feel it sputtering out—weak, intermittent sparks fizzling around my temples like wet fuses. The machine is winning. It's heavy, clinical blue light washes over me, drowning the last of my resistance in a tide of artificial calm. I am too tired to fight the silence anymore. I am just... drifting. Be Creative and Innovative with Knowledge John Bennett - AKA JJFBbennett , is an independent artist. You can view and subscribe to my work via Blogger , YouTube , Flicker , Facebook , Instagram and Deviant Art . Subscribe to JJFBbennett's private FB hub: https://www.facebook.com/share/g/18ythpSXPZ/ You can subscribe to my music via YouTube Music ,...
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