ruin the remedy as it befits the following description. the rapid pace of heartbeat, and outrageous whiplash from adrenaline-pulse nerves racing sideways offset the path of the average endeavor. a process deceitful and maimed by conscious explanation as grim matters waned. fond remains of memorized moments taken back to those seconds of bliss. the crutch of organic emotion made manifest in this flesh. thriving on time gone by, and secrets laid to waste by perimeters of dread, the habitat of a doomed nation. an exclamation of unyielding force motivated into a presence all its own. the predecessors drop ill and weak from the task as the next model approaches, a countdown descends, and the spirits rise as though lifted into a sky-bound animation of being. what is it that pop really might imply? a soft spill before the boom? …
I am a man, and my mankind is a faltering, flawed thing to see… Kinder than most raunchy assholes to be sure, but still very much a prick supreme in coldness and excess emotional distance… My nature, it seems to me, is one of a blatantly oppositional behavior unrelenting… I love people of all types, but find something to dislike in everyone almost unavoidable to keep the essence of balance… I despise my mean-spirited feeling, but find it inescapable, inviting tolerance to this particular side of myself… When I drink or otherwise become intoxicated, it almost seems to throw off those self-imposed shackles that sobriety cages these facets to my personality within, and I give all appearances to be the Hyding monster behind the skin… Not holy soulless, though, but I find it difficult at times to form compassion …
Nine times…nines times, I have fought for these threads. the clerk nodded, absentmindedly.
seemed to agree with every word I said at-large. clearing his throat, he calmly replied cautiously.
What trouble would you have, sir? my defiant stand made him quite clearly affected, a silent stand.
the lone vagrant diatribe cautiously relents into the darkness of his forgotten intellect, a swine standing. there where a man just stood, relenting against a painful system infecting him. his twisting made leaps into the insecure nature of impact, as the crutches fell away to the floor, and he faced thunderous approach into a concrete surface. the flames ignited through a human anger flew and spewed to the floor. the scream at the end left no doubt at the intrigue in the wake of the apparent. Did you like that, cripple? he was not afraid to …
a cannibal living the good life, taking lives from time to time, and discovering that there is more there than what lies at the surface challenging his own beliefs. with a mundane job as the cover while he picks and chooses prime cuts for his meals, and learns there are more things than him to fear.
sew the cheque gets dropped off from the holy dive that working into blurry lines has become for this heir apparent to nothing in particular… the banquet, with their feast of cash on hand, will gladly eat up my money, but we shall see if there is nothing in return… finances have rarely enhanced my feeling of being blissfully unattached, merely deterred by heavy-handed fatherly wisdom… being independent feels fine without pushing buttons with the exception of the authoritative advise that overtakes an isolated sense of inferiority… wait to see if the energized money will sit well with hungry-eyed bank bastards and retarded cash-handlers, and maybe go-fetch will be same game as previously played before this day… my account means nothing but subservience to the crooked pages and barons of the banking community… none of them would happen to …
the beasts promise a certain amount of reluctant pacing to please one another. dogs thrown to the fires of appeasement and abasement that comes with sacrificial artifice. spending evenings in pursuit of nothingness to succumb to master’s grace, but what it really can be is razed from the psyche with a grip more blistered than the tainted love of gods and monsters. Here the graphic defacing of empty idols takes the shape of melancholy mistreatment. all thoughts become as a blank spell cast aside with these visual representations of bliss deep within the artifice. like a slug crawling across the clock’s face, leaving its trail to be discovered by hand, and wiped away in disgust. so we are the caretakers of a world that distrusts us, and by all accounts the methods we use are abusive in the extreme. …
you’re late…again…when will your monotonous reign end there…the natives are restless to have a new way of looking at you…their stares reinforce the status quota that holds the mass mind in sway, enthralled with the promises accrued with fame and power alike, and yet conform or die had never caught on as a slogan for you…in that slight imperceptible gap between adulthood, and the symptoms of childhood that are so common among the rest of us…with you there is no dividing line, no matter how thin, but the definitions bloom like blossoms in the rays of enthusiastic nostalgia…the hat gives away the urge to defy…the drunkenness of the late last night was heavily still ringing in-between those vital ears…asleep for the five hours that remained…refusal to awake at that sixth hour, but a shower occurred somewhere within the next …
three close friends have a run-in with the worst enemy that could come between best friends, love, and the woman confronted who presents each with their own version of the dream girl that they have been looking forward to being with.
I am a fury riding the gilded attitude of consumption. Manifestation of life and then will out of self-awareness. A child is always born with the animal instinct to make a stable environment for itself. This is revealed in the actions of relentless, nameless things that approach the absurd. Shameless self-discovery that no one seems to want to fess up to. I will be the scapegoat, and their exit from the blame during duress. my hindsight affects your foresight, and the passion you forsake becomes a shroud that betrays no shadows. Merely flashes of memory for the sake of progression. Towards goals that few will ever realize now, but that may one day permeate the abundance of society. styles and fads are the conditioning that surrounds our occasional instances requiring our presences in forms channeling instinct into the furnace, …
Well, are we all completely useful, either? We are like the ants beneath our feet. With bitter wavelengths and disposable bandwidths, but that isn’t the only impression that we have to make. You see we need a complete picture to ascend fully. We create the next life in a uniform fashion. Asexual stripes of thought pattern with a shell of hormonally-charged animal of either sexual preference encasing these objective conscious things we are. I get so frustrated when I want to fuck out loud, the sexuality tells me not to care, but heart says that love rides more than just a casual current. Fantasy hits a wired boundary of realistic and fatalistic alter-egos that appear like distinct personalities. The nonsense and spittle might declare us to be, as the clinical may …
