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reCyst’ em…

assistance is needed for us to get anywhere without fears making one an anxious mess assessing as functional aspect a necessary role in what we are told as true from early on why does it require us to be this way to keeping grandiose social machined chrome running smoothly to the hum of oppressive inexplicable mechanical harmony excised off of a modern age to industrially waste and wonder wrapped into one world order engraved commandment scratched by the shadowy elements behind all the events the likes of which recycle back onto the dramatic volcanic shenanigans that eventually become relevant almost as though a bad joke told up until it might actually become funny the sharp point of which could get someone hurt by that scholastic iconoclast tragedy that gets us worked up into mad fits of expressive anger and dismay at frustrations that appear to contradict with the programming we were used to at the outset, but the things change when least expected usually by forces beyond our direct control influenced by our actions personally motivated though ambiguous or vague to others whose definitions will not allow them to see what is there for all to experience muted in the moments when the contemplation is certain as that journey carries us out of this place when we’re done but consciously attempting to cycle sooner to those “good” parts before dealing with any harsh reality at the edge of the end lost to a demonic loop of steady stress and casual dangers that could envelope a sense of self difficult to follow sometimes until that of an abrupt stop at the end of the tunnel visions made more real by the traveling suspension of disbelief that hangs over heads confused and confusingly taught by all the ego versus id chronologic alley that puts parts personal psychology one hides aside for the larger perspectives that science monopolizes as much it polarizes the people from the problems and cures which kill us, as though everyone who might hear this could ask first where you got a stat on this information to prove what i say in these phrases you read now because i refuse to reduce opinions to a biased factual concept as even this can shift its position in a relation to other things close by or far away from abject amounts of meaning shoveled onto topics of all kindnesses that we cannot appreciate fully until we experience from our own singular vantages of perspective as objects inspired by a time and place that wind throughout the narrative we create… fearfully crawled up the inside of your mind until you find you are no longer a necessary figment of the dementia that spawned you and your derelict ways through the uncertain patterns throbbing on into the fore riding upon an ultra heavy beat sore from the heights of treasured lore in history and oral tradition passed down to wage wars upon truths that still remain to us ignorant or underdeveloped clues to how the universe really works in as terrific a splendor as can reside materialized for only moments before it is memorized perhaps digitized inside the fragmented mind presenting an image of god as though truly known it can be madness passed around a party of parodies and archetypal novelty in whose pose lies panicked as massive rush of martyrs and miscreants throws themselves into the gears blindly, trying to swallow the craving for a purpose somewhere that may be nowhere at all but buoyed because the energy never falls where there is no drift or lift that drags us sometimes by the bootheels to walk in and talk in jagged tangents and jargon as they manifest individuality a zygote-to-be on the way to bring the human back to humanity where magic we are as keystone to working our will as we wish it if allowed crucial support at our most formative periods fueling the inspirations held so dearly sometimes obtusely angled into focusing in from realms inedible and all-too-pretentious to handle with a necessary care or consistency that requires us to be there accountable and responsible for our crude fictional dysorder applied like light through the prism streaming out a glorious arrangement of color splitting the sky to openly engage all of the range of possibilities in the out there, and what we are made to be as a singly stranded consciousness aware of more than just the patterns of pasteurized bullshit and vomit transcribed to be absorbed by selfish incidental increments we trade in for the attention spent trying to see what we need in this subjective event called life as this trip changes on all cosmological levels grotesque for our fears manipulating victory over culture and the social history that terrorizes the abused wanting the chance to make the things in this world their way which is never a right or wrong conclusion but more of an afterthought somewhere else…

Thanks, khet.