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that Aftermath After Laughs

if you do not have a sense of humor then you were born dead with hackles in a rise at the terror you feel when approached from behind by a friend as graceful eyeless golden sky opens out to you from a so dark womb with no views to hide behind in fits of anxiety toward society’s teasing morale having taken offense at this exquisite stench of what we are in Here, as a mass-produced mutilated mutant human an animal catalyst charmed wild and free to run through a jungle of madness and deceptive mood as when a dualism continues to fight dualisms where those empty of soul desire a need to be filled as though by some holy spirit whose force more than a few would feel is a rigged game as opposites assemble on an epic playing board into the teams that seem completely bipartisan as though it weren’t a ruse of some valuable fabrication administered for a winning stake as acclaimed right left of the terrible, and to pleasing themselves unbearable with mocking laughter echoing all throughout in these wretched halls of power taken to the hilt of horror in exchanging for sour faces those expressions sized-up as a losing battle from the start in this endless festival of the rich and manifest wealthy those whose unhealthy appetites are of expectant willful stays of execution as their lazing hand feeding relevancy to no one properly… you laugh now at the dismissing ways of the ignorant mass stiff with competitive opportunism up its ass like a stick stuck even as this charismatic cystemic infection is in a process of covertly coveting your ass trying to scare you into choosing any sides in a subtle struggle to become dominant, the cruel insulting jokes choking a soft oft-mated companion in cheque by the patterns of chosen games piling up like unwanted discards in a deck before the dealing of hands we are given to raise up to the privilege of our past seeking defensive glances as we soon hold information to which we are privy far too close to our chests to ever read clearly, and the cruelest of killing jest is the one in which the immortal ideas congesting organic tissues we have grown up and out of as alien consciousness quests to understand the irony and the absurd like no other sequences of human challenge set before yet after so many ideologies as certainties have been incorporated generally into the esteem of giving respect and applause as genuine adoring centers accessed by the occasional chuckle or guffaw or a quiet murmur of laughter as sound of blessing as much a curse sent to ridicule those judged taken to be as offenders…

Thanks, khet.