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…dysCardigan in whether…

…the seeking rendered infamous because the quest always changes just as the questions discard their answers when the context does not fit those rhyming structures timing their dysfunctions before they happen as if there is wisdom behind those hands shifting consequences favoring positive results of vague omens never assures that ones shall find what they are searching for whenever we are not distracted by others trying to obligate us to their mysteries as subtly resentful people in passive-aggression their misery trails of indirect traces leaving clues scattered all around but devoid of practical solutions when it becomes another person’s burden, shared all along while others suffered trying to read minds that wouldn’t budge in opposition timing of actions not collaboration making things more difficult by default taking up slack when there are slackers to be found everywhere something for nothing acting like dicks for free pushing buttons because that is what dark sides do best until those other sides of disparagement relent our dropping guard long enough as fatal error Here especially circumstances which allow for compromising situations such as these to manifest irregularly into the material divorced from the all-sphincter whose sight when seen is the negative reversal of the sun as it appears behind our eyelids once sunshine blindness forces us to close our eyes what shadow orifice remains is that puckered kiss into the abyss such that some of us decline to engage afraid for getting shit upon our lips not just our eyes be damned at the sight smell and taste classic recipe feces all the way thrilling enough of the populace that we endure for the love of the world in which it isn’t any issue until it is spreading more than cheeks to get at the heart of the matter where it will count… no love fools or favorite games played Here as tendrils from the ablyss embrace everything eventually much as those tricky Langoliers devouring the emptiness of the past we do not inhabit any more terrible imagery of spheres chewing scenery starting from one side as low dull roar until it’s too late in the stagnant fate of left behind as machines to escape won’t engage because with sparks slowly dying out only nature is never thrown off by the odd timing that continues to resonate with our emotions and knocks us up down or out sometimes all at once against hope, counting the doubt as worrisome ammunition for whatever psycho-social warfare our masters cook up to maintain the rigged corrupted masks used to induce fear aren’t faked by the demonic bureaucrats holding sway so hypnotic tongues forked and silvered enough to allow others to believe in their viperous natures trying to shed those hollow skins calloused from the conflicts prior to progress compromising conditional parameters in which they are initiated needing the greed as context to crave more substance over filling the inner sanctum shaping us as being participants whole occupants we wish to see inhabit this planetary realm without fear, the same kind that currently arguing suppresses our heathen earth using disposable excuses instead of based on facts utilizing shifty foundations to pass judgment as though exclusion were the final word but no there are so many voices Here that each line of forward momentum establishes singular strands weaving this collaborative identity together weathering any storms collectively instead of independent lessons which can abrade uncomfortable truths out of us sometimes against our will to leave able to readily absorb the moments as they happen perhaps most difficult skillful trick to command while within this constant dervish whirling even in stillness…

thanks, khet_:/