All The Wrong Topics dot com

not a peer amid us…

the bullshit is where we sit embedded deep in the thick of it soft and warm as it leaves us comfortable to be Here as perversion maps out deceptive routes to which we can concede belief as it recedes to a deep sleeping thunder to sunder the slumber with ultraquiot tones subsonic pushing ahead of the rest in a thorough consuming plague first of the unaware becoming a toxic guesspool like bogs from which the realms of endless direction and plotting summon and bend the forces at work, the darker sides of ourselves tear holes in those happinesses we conceive of where discontented hearts are restless amid the desolation imperiling us all in total as we press forward together through ancient lines of race and decay to that of a rabid fascist rot laid as like foundation for the ages yet to backlash react to a romantic conceptualization in the popular modern fetish for transhuman drones and robots that posits a future as a bleak reminder to ours acquired to keep a chrome polish constantly swallowing our homes in a circuitry bent to recalibrate a settling of torches lit a bared touché striking dares like matches blown up out and away from the pinching fingers that hold us in cheque, and throttle our imaginations a little harder when let out the next time in a subtle spendthrift of attentions to whet our consumers’ appetite on the next difficult bits and bytes to provide an output of the accepted milquetoast demeanor produced by the system at some vital point of consternation frustrating our stubborn egos as yet to realize the lessons to be gleaned from wrong or failed moves made around various hoodoo as the land markers we have come to rely upon as an indisputable proof that reality is an immediate as much solid structure from which all manners of a humanity have spilled forth like from out the damned Pandora’s box teased at in myth… the Mystery includes us no matter who we are today as it is this time travel transition from ideas to animals to personas of interest throughout the annals of a vague history filling pages that virtually no one will read as the digital bubble subsumes our paradigm of living sigils born each with an agenda to complete once the concepts make themselves a known to people, selves themed with any type of mood or ideal made real and fleshed out as humans swept up into the consequences of action as some of us are prone to being caught up within others’ schemes taken to the dramatic extremes in exposing a vulnerability inside of ourselves personally that we can never quite reach while Here, but lives can never be more satisfying without the risk of failing and even injury to prod the individual into striving further than previous lessons setting up this world of intrigue before the person we are is even conceived of from procreative drives instinctual to these human animals as they populate and hastily ignore their place in the universe sometimes to the point of total ridiculousness…

Thanks, khet.