All The Wrong Topics dot com

…with dollar signs spewing $atan…

…things become difficult to write when daunting emotionally hope shifting to annul the annual pulse of dread coming with those anniversarial adversaries whom signal sleazy signs of life to save themselves from implicit betrayals motivated because eventually systems do collapse Here unforgiving currency of facts submit for our perusal simulacrum the direction we happen to be going for what we may become in the future as yet still unknown subduing us with worry and concern vicariously avuncular because we have to be certain steps removed in order we be able as to why make relevant decisions resolving through calm perspective, trained for that sequence of events but nothing falls in place quite how it is scripted without some struggling to find the right words that perhaps meaning is not lost even though one never knows for sure what obstacles lay ahead Here cemented in our heads sealed hermetically circulating through intelligent concrete allowing such blocks to occur in space where we should be able to call our own as with thoughts that may float and pass by without much notice at all lucid dreaming happens not to be the average yet as nested within unkempt attitudes of laziness abject guilt, wracked becomes wrecking if certain energy is never allowed to disperse turns kinetic for the worst as feedback charges lightning-like branching to connect and ground people becoming impulsive to degrees unheard of before that internet caught us all and now we are submissive to its artificial intelligence reading our personal information to take advantage of those unwilling submissions though find themselves open to these attacks in choosing to stand out might things never change if there is no remarkable imbalance between victims and victimizers no victories just vitriol as the hate rages onward to burn itself out into embracing love… tricked not just by these systems consistent in natures grip upon our anatomy sending withering cycles throughout our shared physiology when the clock strikes none shall pass for each of us collecting our memories somewhat reflexively as the harsh pressures assail with ferocity we believe to be myth until we see it for ourselves trying to sustain survival for yet another year whereas chaos is utterly elemental enough where it correlates Here to feeding the atrophiends devoted to entropy trying to capture information sacrificing solace for the thrill of the hunt although not entirely sure what that hunt is for, arranged into states of uncomplicated conveyance inasmuch convenient interfaces for the user who chooses to sign in Here characters locked in stream of consciousness screaming opportunity hoping to unlock theories of information that may work to structure the future for whatever humanity becomes as adequately as can be efficiently acquired offered crumbs in exchange for cosmic level blood sweat and tears required as components into the mixture tinting glasses rose-colored while limiting our empty caloric intake creating monsters affected by raging hungers erasing what precious real estate we have between our ears incapable of reflecting that forward accessory momentum necessary, scrapping projects left unattended for too long feeling the bite of self-doubt edging close through the doldrums beating our hearts Here into weathering whatever storms may come through calms that seem unreal perhaps even if merely imitation of the thing itself clinging to preserve stability through us identifying usefulness in capability of capacity high doubtful emotions obliviously forgiving to ourselves and our mistakes because we want to be able to forgive ourselves and our digressions without the flack we require jackets for as levels of caution rise with the seize that surround us causing chaos to leak through our sciences…

thanks, khet_:/