gnarly new world.

the creature we are is screwed up at best, still working out the bugs within organic matter implanted with subcutaneous devices while the beating heart tries to breath, and the noxious vapors try to get in… a shallow whelp of a man that betrays the self to the criticism of strangers letting the meat dry out inside of the skull, a place filled with insight and stress all pushing to projecting outward through those orifice discretionary options one is allowed to access in this world of ours, and the contrary motions all activate the determined argument contracted into this obligation in which to speak… to raise the voice up to the heavens in remark for the sour times Here on earth as a means to affect change in this subtle void, as the dark matter swallows all material percolating to the surface in eventuality as the cycles of growth and decay pose diminishing ebb and flow as the ages go by recorded by this tension manufactured of silence and urge, but this is the domain of the ultraquiot where the dead things can scream some to perchance be heard beyond this wall of sleeping people… ignorant sheep braying in the field somewhere deep in a womb of time/ space whose echoes like heroes champion a movement for progress, where the resonating energies of the human beings guide the consciousness to bodies likened to grounded wires anchored tight in this mortal coil, and wired to channel the cosmic electricity as a charge or current that can run through everything throughout this string theory idea where melodies and harmonies are played by the forces that see through mere flesh and bone… ruminating on maturity as the time passing moves us toward this destination where the human is revealed as the flawed understanding, based in the subjective realm as we work our odd magic on the substance of reality in the consensus world digesting us all one by one, but not merely sacrificial plugs to be discarded once one purpose has been resolved to thus leave open many gateways into future and past endeavor… to understand of this life is not mandatory even though too many are made to believe otherwise for the heavy weight of others’ standards putting pressure on the brainwashed masses trying hard to filter out the unwanted aspects of reality at the same time as birthing them into some banal new incarnate existence, beyond the dreaming to which the state of death is more than innately is attached because of that flickering potential to create more and more possibilities from this vast unknown, but few ever look particularly into the perilous void stuff calling this critical eye into question by the massive council of voices so buried in this umbilical darkness harnessed to the silence that lies just beneath the empty we see with our own eyes as traumatized into place… always working an adapting control on this thing as puppet of a living state artfully making serious the most out of nothing special, this energy that surges through us can be paralyzed into place by the preconceived notion as mockery in motion to especially put the effect into action, and we are sitting in this vessel wondering what autonomy we could truly deserve as sub-space culture of demon worms pouring out of the thick bloated colon of past-prime demagogue… i don’t need all this heavy trash like recycled metal weighing down my strained bravery that defies law, tricks of the abyss in a tender kiss that miss the point completely as far as understanding what one can truly embrace instead being one pulled away by the beast in this burden of blood, and distracted by the competing of interests within this spaceship as human body made to live long and prosper from the standpoint of an alien mind that uses our senses as a means to understand the dark unchecked potential of this universe from which we stem… the courage looking far into a future that seems futile at first, that somehow politely waves from the safety of a smiling device that the individual sits astride as though thoroughbred stallions we all were at one point, and our curiosity is another seed in which revolution lies just inside of to the breaking loose of gifts whose fruition becomes a present we are embodying in billions of thoughts that never leave wherever this place is we see…

Posted by Friday on January 2nd, 2013 in blogging, critical concepts, g for Galere..., n for Nescience..., w for Wasm.... You can leave a response or trackback from your own site.

Leave a Reply

You must be logged in to post a comment.