clitical mass
the way we speak makes a difference in the messages conveyed whenever we use precise words as a keen start to making our meanings known so thoroughly that sometimes it stings the future yet to be with new layers of refuse sloppily cleaned away by those who know not the mess that has been made that is as accountable to Here where values renewable are at stake claiming we can think through the mess of miscommunication stinking thick on our boot heels trailing as we climb those strange shit-covered mountains reaching out to manifest destiny as our own, some much unnoticed complexity stirring the flocks of individuals seeking to reduce the harm inflicted by the system that eats from us to then repel those that do not conform simply into a crassifiying of our truest ambitions as a corrupted mockery of whatever earnest desire we had to drive us forward fueled by an enthusiasm for a future complicated by obligations to the larger circles of society and tightening further within as close friends and family held together unlike co-workers and acquaintances who flit in and out like ghosts at the periphery, and yet deeper thought requires delving into the soul resembling as spirits whose voices radiate with encoded information all surging through the weft and warp of this cosmic tapestry woven perhaps as a blanket or a safety net held out by those invisible gods and goddesses always in motion making things this way or that as lineareality bends the projected image when enlightenment shines through personal lenses set to view the visions as they are… freed to choose words we use for ourselves and letting others in some way figure out their own missions through this human refuse revolting as much a revolution spins us to the new age where things buzz past like rockets fueled by our collective sights of the future said only with images that mean more than those thousand words spilling like oil into the ocean as the fishes are dying or extinctly smothered by the blood of the earth siphoned by the dreaded opportunists uncaring until their ends, these things we say act in much the same way as that oil and the residues left even as after the effort to clean up the damage has been finished still there are the loose ends untied that leaves us vulnerable to any festering and atrophied remnants that have stayed where they are as elemental in a primordial stew trying to adapt to Man’s insurgent hands and urges whose purposes rank right up there with tyranny and violence if left with unchecked justifications, but as terrifying inefficiency strikes emotions with lightning ferocity like furious turds from the mouth tearing asunder those things as learned behaviors and vaguest habits that had not been previously second guessed as being harmful requiring reassessment able to give us reasons to keep moving this way no matter obstacles or traumatic upbringings that take our lives away from that idealized eden of our expectations still residing within as a weak critical ego…
Thanks, khet.
Posted by :\_khet on October 25th, 2015 in blogging, dark thoughts, my art & dreams, rants & raves. You can leave a response or trackback from your own site.