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a Christmas Lost

the diabolical side of this humble narrator wants to be your eviscerator urging you to expose your organs to the cold open air as a steaming remainder of what you once were, Here shoving the dark part down to where the humanity cannot touch it but which will see the light of day once truth becomes focus for the sensitive mission as opposed to those glory-seeking idiots lazy that barely grow into any kind of decent compassionate creature, but where the meat meets the feeling is where the human being is more than merely one created by forces beyond our control… we now find ourselves lost in the manufactured wilderness of our more recent ancestors, in an environment that allows for no real escape from without only from within where all the pieces are jumbled into a slew of infinite recombinations, and patterns as more than simply prodrome symptoms of a visceral retreat into the dark matter condensed by epic galactic movements that weave like needle and thread through this cause magical cosmological tapestry which is always defying any smooth categorization… and not knowing how to be humble without being pretentious to some inane degree as the information gathered penetrates fertile minds in our heads always seeking thirsty for tidbits and morsels left under the bed or out of sight from the rest of this extended family we are in, this suit which now states pursuit of the demon and angel in Man whether that exceeds an element of truth is in the unwitting hands of my readers to demand their money back from this monstrous system trying to play havoc with the particulars of hope and dread which human has fun in recreating as boxes and vicious in which to stuff other humans while the mechanized manipulation is always in effect in all in our heads, and this ain’t just the stuff of nightmares my friend as we dance with the devil in the pale moonlight wondering how the time ever went by so fast when we weren’t looking through the glass into the past where the roots try to hide without defense or substantial repentant accent on what it means to be forgiven by a foe in opposition to warm friendship by a hopeless idiot… i actually feel like choking the bastards who brought me life because this weight of indecision affects everywhere the movements i make, subtly through the ether or direct force enacting to collapse the dominos’ effective warp into real time sight and sound as the ignorant sway merrily made to be victims without victory drawn through the muck by the teasing obligations of masters attempting their mastery without the mystery needed to create the puzzle box they are to be buried in once all the excitement has passed, but the map out of this complex phase has been built by hands that weave the differing truths complimenting stark contrast against the unforgiving masses engorged on the wars and blood of their brethren as we starve to make a home out of survival… a revival of the passionate pleas crying for satisfaction from the rogue lovers whose goals are only to achieve an idea of status as quoted in this day and age of sovereign debt and high dark arts of manipulation made manifest, there is no pleasing this mad hatred god who condemns us from within as the chorus of players from this shadow game project a cacophony to satirize the natural harmony of which few actual humans move in sync, but harm does not have to come in the form of some harsh authority that knows not the tribulations of the real human animal as this creature remains in the garden unaware of the glory… a rebuke from the fantastic perfection jerking us all around by the tale as chaos tries to counter the magic of order, versus the vices of human desire as we are trained and managed to think appropriately for our random survival with a cheap spill of interest and attention spent to make the monsters go back into their homes lost in shadow and silhouettes, and the visible with their smiling faces decide to leave the littered along the path to nowhere like seeds upon a rough and craggy soil in which to raise the misinformed opinions from the desolation made all the more modern by a society that hates and fears itself the way no other group has ever done until this day… a social mind swirls with the promise of surpassing the obstacles that inflicted themselves upon a hive mind civilization kept unaware like mutant pets of various shapes and sizes to charm the intelligence right out of the hearts and minds of the best of us at rest, again trying to reach deep into the wealth of organic darkness which harnesses the potential for so much more without getting the elitist hand dirty by forcing all of the working class into their respective places, and seizing upon the righteous rock to chant the lyrics of fame and fortune to those whose misguided thinking tells them what they see is truth no matter how unwieldy this truth happens to be in all actuality… symbols and signals confounding knowledge…

Thanks, khet.