All The Wrong Topics dot com

…isospin, Sideways, isolate…

…savage the damned ways we cauterize the wounds when there is nothing that works better than time to heal and nothing else than an attempt to make better what things have been left to pick up the pieces shattered by the machinations of past civilizations, ideas that faded once the fad was considered a dead issue to the rest of the people of the time whose beliefs preempted the growth of all sciences gathering momentum enough to change the places of monarchs and fools in one fell swoop of revolt and instability creating pitches and shifts in power vacuums sucking with the brush off and a thunderous calamity set in motion with repercussions occurring for those civil recreations yet to be revealed from the darkness within, facsimiles derived from the alternate values placed upon at odds with the persons and things thus objectified by systems that view us as merely statistical analysis to be undertaken by a chosen few who know not what it means to be human on this scale caught between worlds of wonder in regards to the physical state we experience through the direct interface with our bodies and the unseen worlds within worlds we only now know just enough to sharpen whet appetites curious and wanting more out of this lifetime barely scratching at that surface itch… the pi is half full of chirality spinning stimulating simulations throughout processing of a search for the meaningful meaning small bits and bytes of access to the excess of information stuck into this perpetual motion of portals reflecting the dissonance when tolerance lacking a charge of depth and meaning as banal forces condone the systems in place to anchor our grief in such a way as there is no questioning the state of things Here, not without some kind of merciful sense of fatalistic behavior triggering the person to become wildly unglued at the seams where there is only violent resistance to quell the beast or put it down before it can harm any living being coming too close to touch the extreme of an animal unleashed and mean a grotesque body within the particle zoo researching the scatological evidence that remains of where we have been, and is looked to for clues as to where we as an oft-lethargic species whose society of sorcery and spellings shall journey next in series of manifold realities that tease us into being in the first place always expecting this ride to end at any old point if a line has to be drawn Here… constituent parts of a greater whole that humans cannot fathom more than stray fragments to then slap labels as reference points within the abyss that ranges a vastness of knowledge yet to be discovered through human senses to a completely cohesive degree allowing us possible access to further dimensions of awareness more than whatever may have been the standard circulated previous to this strange day, charmed by the factors of a twisted bodily autonomy turned into a quirky characteristic rating particle physics right up there on the same plateau of observation and analysis as mental disorders supposed by scholastic authoritarians in ivory institutions publishing their versions of the credos we continue to recover from, and the pieces left Here puzzling us still are animated to not stay in one particular phase for very long shifting displays that consume and devour the devoted floating blank on a raft made of a theory quantified in the electric haze that fills the spaces between us and whatever the cosmos entails in these interstitial contexts as becoming more complete over time…

thanks, khet_:/