All The Wrong Topics dot com

…fauxcest Shizbalah, an ethical edifice complex…

…music is weaponized if one chooses to wield it as such raping the minds of others as deeper vibrational attack than merely sound alone diffusing situations or flipping the script rogue when the industry turns hostile instead of hostel killing off those who are not serving a master quoth the craven cowards whom supply this farce with the demanded subjects for those willing to sacrifice until death us do art and be torn apart by cannibalistic fires of passion eating the fat and gristle left throbbing critically and clinically dissected martially customized force to address possible outcomes that may occur, slaves to the wage enabling reckless systematic abuse on all sides no matter which argument you choose Here romanticizing disaster and harassing the victim twisted rituals born from the upside-down criminal reality we try surviving through long enough to mean something becoming doominoids of the heap to reap the rewards upon learning how to tap into the system at work this species galactose-intolerant mucus machines compelled to solve puzzles and engineer solutions feeling lonely feeling so unholy madly seeking shelter underneath an improvised chador formed from loosened skin and tugged around standing camouflaged through the human hustle if still life, weapons of mass distraction going on outside morbidity pressuring co-extinction to clean the slate as this orbiting plane of experiences has before we ever coalesced variation from the same phlegm that keeps our systems in homeostasis otherwise we would be too dry and die without some hydrating residue that does not evaporate meanwhile can retain and multiply microscopic entities that try to subdue our local symptomatic standard proving the plethora of phobias are adaptations to perhaps make autonomic corrections restrain our precious fragility affecting our behavior in order to be more aware of to protect ourselves by knowing our limitations… sterile rigidity against loosed change that may make us sick on biological levels from the lathe of heaven our sparks are generated flux fluctuating Here becoming more than discarded refuse nor buttery wholesomeness any perfection as inadequate conceptual reality attempting to take up whatever chaotic slack perceived as human widgets of potential disaster produced and locked inside this machine spinning from topic to theme only to retreat when there is too much heat digging too deep sometimes under the skin one causes harm relentlessly carving away out of mistakes taken seriously enough to maintain repetition paralyzed afraid to break cycles, no freudian slip only chip on the shoulder as in should have could have would have but didn’t simply tripping until one finally at times fatally falls failing to hold back any longer for the sake of argument silence will stay with us after we can do no more as mortal guise laid bare without any ability as while still Here possible to take up our own case for motivation and responsibility moving through the living miasma that just appears to be though never the full extent of how far or where it comes from proven to exist by mimicry, mocking human beings by default entrained to laugh at others insulted taking it personally for oneself some people greedy suspensions by disbelief that we could ever be misconstrued misunderstood and taken for granted when our unique qualities are all we have even though nonsense might be our only skill worth nothing to anyone else except ourselves reinforcing personal senses of well-being toward edifying growth in appropriate directions where it may seem most difficult to accomplish after embracing so much emotional pain and fear Here held captive by proposed not proper types of authority taking on our collective existential dread forcefully…

thanks, khet_:/