cut the bullshit.

WARNING; the following is merely the opinion of one person, and to the best of his knowledge, there is no law based opinions being banned in their entirety anywhere.
Any bad tastes left in your mouth are all due to your own vile counter-argument.
Forward all comments to ‘FUH-Q @’. Thank you and have a nice day.


why do we do this to ourselves?… In the times of depressed excess, there are few gateways to fit through without damaging a clavicle or two… twisting self and limb through that keyhole… wow, distortion of ego perception at best… the throttled spit lies dirty and dry tasting hell’s high waters into the depths of the unknown, Here it is I creep, the casual assuage… hits from the bong, pipe, jib?… No, it is the vaporizer to stick it to this stick in the mud… What outrageous thing is this before me, with the mad Cheshire threads laid bare, and an excess of betrothed feelings spilt into the abyss… Donning requisite 3D eye wear, the Depp-th broken in by mad attempts of Burton-sized captions of Disney, the wonderland had long since faded into the background of coalesced essence… material as I see it Here, best fit for the weeping over, overtly the casualty for the unseen fog of prohibition’s pulse into the nowhere… that is where the youth is sent prematurely, the prisoner society, culture in a jar… behind the glass, too far away, the casual man laughs… the unreal reality made realist at most, the creative logic that creates chaos, swaying ordering, the betraying for that objective best understanding… to glean the throttling display of reason, and yet each consistent constriction makes the heart grow fonder and more nostalgic, to re-establish that connection to a creative will… have yet to make some gnarly hash, or try it… the power behind the pain, the force beyond faith that endures after the flesh wears thin, and this is what the devil does… hypochristian fundamental shit cakes!!! droseph or the leaves and stems more often… reginald is difficult to find at times for decent quality to quantity ratio… the leap of faith becomes the stuttering stew boiling up queer facts to dissuade the casual person…
i seem to enjoy the casual toker the best, to skew to a slightly different perspective, the hardcore stoners were everywhere as i grew up, but my sheltered youth had stayed in the shadows until i ventured this unique relationship with a few of my newly “corrupted” gamer friends. my life with the “mary jane” started when i was eighteen, and finally reached a particular point in my development. i grew up inside of a fairly tiny community on the edge of mid Western farm country, and here it would stay for most of my relationship with it and most of these other inhabitants. i became a stoned individual one afternoon during alternative schooling, and it was here that i met my first hurdles and overcame it. social barriers are put into place for ease of conversation within the elite symbolism produced by human ego. prohibitions are seen everywhere, today from the yesterday into the future days to come, and further generations are going to be yoked with these false ideals in their pockets. like the clanging of loose change in the mind. an open mind is the instrument to truth, but the narrowed views around moral structure makes the flakes fall from the tree into the bowl with the good apples, too. paying 150 for seven grams of droseph is ridiculous anywhere. it is then that conflict can become more pronounced over the course of personal involvement with others. i am barely rational about a “real” world for most of my forming opinion on human existence, and yet rebellion was never far from my true persona, the conforming mould that tries to create “perfect” adults from “raw” youth was far from formidable in my perceptions of things. yet, it took me many years confused inside of this systemic malfunction to even begin to get an idea of the outer expanse. most friends felt as though they, too, could fathom the depths, but I have yet to hear back from them. superior ‘dro-seph’ gives a better repeating urge over the more haphazardly grown buds, the feeling is a positive “high” as opposed to the classic paranoid negative drain, but something draws me back to this less effective product because legalization/decriminalization still has no power in a world where freedoms are taken for granted. the distortion didn’t show clear until i found myself in Texas with/out a degree to my name. this had always been the ideal sequence of events, but like everyone else, i channeled the energy of lacking experience and thus abused my abilities as they began to shine. i did this many times over the course of a life riddled with “bullets”, but i still question what good it is for. before i knew it, working a decent job, my friendly habits lead me to jail. the prohibition had finally landed on my door. it still haunts me, and all those i am attached to, with questions floating all over the place about present conditions rearing the ugly head. what are we to do? the doomed aspect screams nihilistic symbols of conflicting potency against the hails of progress from the peanut gallery ancestor spirits. the practice of restricting the desirous has not served any one person at all more than any other, and burdens sit static and waiting for the appropriate weight to kill the heinous martyrs that trigger the fingers on buttons, there to overthrow that mongrel order of infidelity to the point of least sanity… to provoke the response larger… explosions speak pretty loudly, eh?… yes the brain may seem to skip a few beats shy, but the triumph lies in realizing that it doesn’t all have to come to a stop, perhaps much like the rest of beating heart crew dysfunctional except for the few that come true… like dreams
what did I just say? DJ Spooky plays, and the night it weeps deep in display of reality’s analyses to the point of distances from yet which we have attempted but never crept… we are adept at seeking the life bringer… forgoing the lazily harsh and authorized forms of dominance to cry out a rebellious shard into the depression, and tyrants cannot allow the impressions except in jest for the hazy recollections at best…

Posted by :\_khet on April 10th, 2010 in critical concepts, m for Manque... as in, "manque, i don't want any trouble.". You can leave a response or trackback from your own site.

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