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…Fluct…

…art is anal and ironic getting hooked upon one’s navel waiting for it to swallow the shallow world egg through your belly hole in fairy tales best met indubitably with skepticism because logic and reason can be good friends if one understands their meaning as material instruments useful in power to inspire crucial rhetoric stresses euphoric in putting pressure onto this system as it fluctuates community through gates closed off except for particular matters allowed to get past and future frustrated by the present given presence by meaning being associated with the various things vehemently opposed yet in similar ways, enough that it shows in the eyes of the observer Here lost amid the fluctuating themes and lines of type sorting casual definitions aside as we drift serene into thought experiments as they arise from the depths of our haunted soul awash doing what it can experiencing through consciousness this living constancy affiliated with nature and our places within it further still cradled by the cosmic envelope as we realize now appearing vast and uncompromising to reaffirm our shared minusculiarity as though familiarity for things small and fragile in their obscure anonymity expressed through various means and ends conquering ideas, and wielding them with spectacular aim to offend because we are Here today to amend for wicked movements cultivating creatures in nominal gestures of attempted control by whatever will work in the laziest manner to stress lack of interest to their victims even though they are more than obsessed with getting the upper hand if they can’t have the crust sending forth repugnant signals calling out suffering as false enough to trigger potential dangers ahead as avalanche of emotional collateral venomously spills from the throat in manic heaps of fiery steam flushing through heightened sensitivities viewing things with negative filters… attempting to cut away redundant pressures that repeat surging circuits into place promoting a taste of unmanageable mess that living has become now locked in step still hashing out harsh raw edges of the machinery thus built tough enough to survive to the last one of us cannot remain within an organic suit of fragile armor that heals and adapts trying to prevent diminishing returns as cycles start renewing themselves to flex natural will as the world heartbeat palpitates and resurrects another series of seasoning rich within our own fluctuating historical notes narrowing down definitions to their fundamental parts structured, demanding punctures through collected integrity varied between stated beginnings toward inevitable conclusion though sorted in a variety of ways fashioned Here out of pieces placed together wedged creating some drastic connections when chaos ashes and subtle hints sewn amidst such damage and collective suffering flays off fortunate skins down to essentially survivalist traits used to carry one of the many over this river of constant sorrow filled with sticks stones water and bones luring cosmic fish with its depths yet utilizes channeled energy to fuel this world soul vitally in regrowing what limbic regions left extending outward reaching remain missing converting, dark matter into cake batter catalyst of a hunger fed upon sugary bits without any real substance because these elements are mere derivatives branching limbs from a larger tree of life sprouting from this world into the next at all intersections and dimensions steadily holds on with singular force remains imposing how these bodies flowing passed the trash and debris gathered wherever humans endeavor seeking the better of fortune and fate being fleeting ticket turns tide to travel from inside to those exterior levels that may contradict counterintuitively whatever we think we need no matter the compromises required Here…

thanks, khet_:/