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only the Queso knows…

how uneasy it becomes trying to feel out possession of this soul whose only fancy is never dandy though riddled with a guilty pleasure or two littered about to fulfill moments without that gift of presence left only essence to pursue the ghost of a dragon fractalated relationship practically visceral of conclusions clotting the arterial spray motive that prevails through motion digesting the moves as frugal centrifuge refusing to die with everything that can be spent its states of being lucid dreaming at rest at best questions unanswered confessing consequence by obliterating witness can dead or alive sometimes comes back to die again demanding the fall of corrupted elders in whose just was jest at best an arrest through answers too heavy to fathom to full content queasy even to nauseous revolt as the eye divine sees in vivisecting sways of color with this system’s use of words scratching wounds that don’t bleed but never heal to be the only thing revealing latter day half-truths as proof of whose dead eyes seeing the believing in full fruit dropping it once the bitter juice bleeds through condemning the natural witches’ brew underneath as cycles of demons disguised in sight as soiled wisdom inherent the descriptive mess breeds us to be Here reaching a gradual state of accepted rituals of passage from place to place and time through time shifting weather we are or not gifted crisis crying out blank are vessels processions from life to life as cell of self locked tight after the travels within one are those refined and finished, and we counter these consequences that trigger our suspicions believing the wicked parts in every being that takes over for the Other punished pushed to other edges of fringe opened out by the betrayed trust of people disgusted by this simple minded pattern of abandoned lost children as we are Here today sublimated by a system possibly upon its last legs begging for the youth to buy into the stockades setting arms and head in place for purpose of a disgraceful ritual paying homage to cultures long liberated of bodies whose spirits still lurk amongst us with pantheric prowesses possessed perhaps as animal bewilderments battling to adapt to human intrusion with swords and wills to a way out that slaughters some other tribes consisting of perhaps those knowing their times have come to fight against that heresy of pride floundering on ideals of sinister kill or be killed rhetoric passed from father to son only to find those system of frat-sore soirees become sordid affairs surging with painful progress tainting those sensitive to the new fragments that split skulls softened from thinking way too much about nothing but superficial fiscal responsibilities and latest of the updates to pose us as functional adults… driving ourselves to process the moods and emotions swirling among a wide array of deals and business tyrants trying to be tycoons in their own right forcing themselves to imbibe the vile vitriol of the temples birthed from an assailing grip that impresses us to choose how we pick our deaths through dream of living this secret symbolism together weaving together both gentle and rough tapestries to texture touching hearts and inspiring minds that reflect on the situational currency given to fits of acidic madness coalesced in those barest of social structures skeletal at times when minimal is the character of these adaptable beasts collected, a homecoming swiftly localized by the threats of mediocrity crazily that critical a butcher relentlessly chopping when blocked only by the swifter tongue of the magically adept in focused will exchanging waves of this electric madness as the ebb that flows back against the grain of current affairs eclipsed amidst tricks of the mind projecting illusionary astride mind of the mercenary thrills chafing at most who hear news of grim boundaries broken, and akin to the elementary debt phat from our piggish self-enthralling instinctual pleasure principle taking an apocalyptic shape breaking through light…

Thanks, khet.