Rhetoric Rabid and the Knee-Jerk Reaction

intimidating this level of propaganda always surrounding us an envelope holding us as we are all taking turns pushing at the edges of this constraint where a former fascism had incarnated us as a mode of order mutating into both the most hated and the most loved of regimes we have ever supported in history, whether we were the plebeians of a ‘roam and conquer’ origin or the regular citizens all-throughout the transitioning of Germany into the nationalist superpower it became before it fell and the Russian empire took their place to the modern American ghouls syphoning a life vicariously through money-worship and idolization, and churning the firmament of a fomenting society into shitty class wars and struggle that smuggles the righteous traits out of place to enforce the smiling fakery trying to subjugate humanity into their place with no safety in numb fingers broken and bitten by the cold states of change… i cannot persuade you with my half-assed pontificating disguised as poetry attempting to urge the thresholds to differ as the dimensional depths of reality fluctuates relentlessly in both an inner and outer space, we are always witness to these manifestations which can appear quite random where logic and reason do not apply as too-frustrated by the way in which things seem to work around Here whenever they do decide to work in a manner more proper to the compassion acquiring a voice to explain and expand upon what truth there is out there, but we cannot reach still from this the vanishing point over the horizon because the material world has put artifice first among its many priorities as a supply and demand act have taken over to create the commercial-industrial landscape we live within today… that is why we choose to disobey even though we are herded into the niches we carefully fit by the transparent walls of programming housed tight within a woven currency of time and energy supporting a mythic hermetic cynic sealing us in, squeezed in together, and wondering as we wander in our times Here whether this is all there will ever be as troubles rise and subside with the warring of tribes seeking out refuge from the cosmic centrifuge whirling us around by our silver strands of soul always pleading without control…

Thanks, khet.

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