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Parking, Not Driving.

a diatribe on the darkness of life… where you’ll need the headlamps working in order to see clearly the details the mind cannot read, as light is the commodity Here, or a sight remains unseen like a bypassing dream… the subtlest of instances where one is held captive by sleeping, transfixed by the civil disobedience that other animals do not understand yet before entering the human being phase of the training, and not all can hear the bells ringing as though school were utterly always in session to reach the next lesson on the syllabus planned as taught in holy words and jerks that spasm against the natural laws that Mankind so detrimentally needs to learn… all is dark pitched low as night falls to earthen struggle, as the electric lights go on and we all warm ourselves next to the glowing box of talk so sick that one finds themselves transported and entranced into a dance macabre of mindlessness so deep that those creeping bastards are manipulating the rest of us into thinking we are just merely superficially great, and all the while suckling upon the energy that can never be faked as the degenerates stalk further for a meal they can taste in order to get away from the styrofoam lifestyles to find something fearful that clicks into the curious senses… something our own that is not the normal average of bored and subjugated by the consuming mind rape that asks only for a blank slate to impress against the grain of state, or state of mind to repress the statements beyond purely facts or fiction or diction or grammar or any other rules to promote a remote rulership over the rest of us, the psychopath and the social conundrum in a shape like no other because of the sheltered predicament sitting upon a shadowy planet fitted with instruments for pain and pleasure ensuring that no one hits the edges until they get rendered like fat… brain washings are a dime a dozen for the dirty rage that filters through us like a prism to draw the lines of emotion when they are shat out into brilliant streams of color and message, fables to wring the experiences of the real into an open mind fresh for the distress or that stress as the tension is building into a fashionable vision of victims and victors appalling and covering over the evidence that remains from the dissection of taboo matters that occur between people that damage each other, and so predisposed we are to these glorious ways of defeat so much so that we are constantly questioning whether we are truly deserving of anything better than this urgent path to escape… developing ourselves goes only a partial extent to curing how we are feeling lost beyond a palpable grasp of science and the chrome veneer whose shine distracts away the imaginative intrusion of any outsiders, as the jargon and terminology become terminal in the mouths of addicted ignorant fools who pity their lack of knowledge as tool for marking the territory as one’s own home never reaching out to understand more than the foolish pride that cannot accept failure, but has to come to terms with what it is unable to realize of this real world full of magic and the aspects that remain hidden until what obscures is driven out by a furious tainted turn for the worse… we ride a road travelled though not wholly without a mystery to observe here and there along the way of life as we divide and conquer the differences in each problem as it matters most in order of priority, so that once managed we can perceive that we only seem to immediately assume knowledge without trial and error as the gimmicks to these vital proofs via experience to guide and assuage feelings of guilt and regret as they have been inside the mind’s eye for a time longer than altogether conceivable right away, but we are not pawns to be owned by the authorities of labor alone as we each fight our way through a terrible game of strategy that implies we are weak and feeble-minded as barbarous hordes to be outwitted by a single adversary with the resources to make things happen outside of a decent light on respect and compassion for humanity…

Thanks, khet.