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ProtoStereo

“Barsoom”, said a tender one, “is the perfect place to keep a rare cask of Amantillado.” Many stories have been written about the courageous feats inspired by these relatively empty of spaces as stars and moons and galaxies swaying under study since of my greenest years from what i know, too many others have wound their own versions of vision into this a reality driven by nothing other than their own perspective opening out to them as unfolding map to universes within our own physical psychology as internal grade to external correspondents and vice versa once it goes too far, but if this is sanity that we are tripping on then where is it that we are going to that has us so alarmed at this point in the journey?… the space before space was explored being what it is today always changing to the static dismay of the others recoiled in horror at what excrement is being thrown off your tongue these days in ways that abandon a solid self-regard thought useful in awareness of the harsh conditions Here like shield, excited and fascinated by the state of decay enveloping everything to the point of an absurdity to a degree of extreme we cannot take seriously fully anymore no matter the tones used can convey a different sense of message altogether, but all of our visions differ as though we suffer together through hells as stacked on top of one another to sieve out the labor in those particles between us like spaces or bubbles drifting in and out of the experimental surface to become the songs of the eternal moving in sequence with itself… master the mystery is overcoming the obstacle presented to humans who have reached to this level of development throughout the darkness of ignorance and lies that stain a version of ourselves useless to anything else other than a decadent oblivion, a useful tool of the system works the pain off that counteracts as in measure or weight upon the shoulders burdened by the obligations inflicted by others without a regard who is making the actual attempt at bending time and space to personal will whether a will to power or pleasure or meaning which instead finds us, or rather not as the we that is Now even though pieces of this one are there as well no matter how minute a detail to perceive when staring through the forest at all these trees weathered by the countless lifetimes whose wonder is a lusty diseased husk remaining to starch and stagnate the rest of this as a relentless pressure builds to bursting…

Thanks, khet.