All The Wrong Topics dot com

the reMoval…

sometimes too hot in Here when bugs are crawling across a bare floor as they leap onto the stinking carcass that i call ‘myself’ to feed as can be found the one working the movements privy as i am savvy like a crude primal puppeteer coming from under curtains are those out-of-sight out-of-mind disguises all the while perhaps reaching as real puppet masters trying to be further outside this extreme scope of twisted potency lest individuals used as avatars for a far cruder plan than to overtake this nature with its own creations in turning rights written and translation given wrongly by gods as benefits to their chosen leaders feasting upon as many of the others on this planet as that when equally considered as valuable in merit any same leaders might view themselves interpreter of higher wills who then rely upon their peoples’ beliefs in and what they transmit whether thought of as any shaman the witch or that doctor whom knowing what they can through many rough acts fought for and an intense accumulation of experience making or breaking those ones down Here when elucidating an education as what is required and acquire that from many complex realms, that these many adventures happen to cross contrasting crippled against these strangers upon a cruising between similar trains of murderous creation as slimy thought jumps click-crack-criss off into derailing around each other when neither can seem many greedy interests to their knowledge were enacting any pre-planned out propositional sets of directives ashamed to so suddenly be implanted within waiting soils, but metaphors grow up only so much once proposed seeds can blossom into fruition that delivers nature’s unusual aliens out into the whole world frequency frequently programming a joke or two hewn to split the skulls of death as can creep deep upon one of us turned rancid irony sometimes foaming as a bit forcing to crawl from that thick muck growing up quick to come hungry rushing to taste a first kill while soon wandering among those roses livid with stabbing fingers used to be rustled as softly as any of the plucked bushes maintained and catered to by some gardeners a green thumb allows them moments a creative muse touches the individuals one by one instead of altogether as groups devise the mean to their end that congratulates and conflagrates to weird subsidiary as butcher chop in twain animal calamity whose sudden and starkly strange contrasts are between a cursing and blessing sped by gravity insanity magma hot hand-eye coordination stationed in a few roles of performance metaphorically spoken for when animal distracted as aren’t we all some tragedy waiting to strike happening dumbstruck as if not accidentally on purpose enough for some of us depicting deviant sides of nature… the truly graceless face taking on the human miracle appearing to still grip on an internal rebellion of instinct not sure what emotion crosses minds not meant for human consumption confusing and stroking an ego feeding its diseases as too many puppies became as one-to-one ratio lost too soon zooming about perhaps what returns comes longing for this doomed affair called living though some of us would rather subvert a signal with that medium abused to obtrusively augment one’s abilities somehow well-ventilated by human filtration holding still the abomination natural in our hearts, beating the monster to death that in these humans wishes to be humane to defeat the horde of insane voices trailing in choruses beyond harmony directed to harm many when the piper stops playing the music, and then as silent motion draws the fear out of these particular intervals where the tones tumble into timbres of notes solidly locked patterns difficult twisting from those kinds of wreckage plausible alive though not in one piece…

Thanks, khet.