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something Betrayed.

the delusion that we are human stems from idle chattel chatter flaunting random catastrophes, coveting the sinister wretch with the district of dandruff, and whose competitive edge is waning… a resurgence of urgency in the way of almighty dollar pursuit of progress, the happy congress of empty, vapid and vacant peoples leering back out from behind the glass… we dye the toiling day blood red for our own reasons, but do we ever look back in wonder at that, keeping the colonies rich in their fine garments and words… a vague recollection of ideals at best, but a penny dreadful of bad poetry of it all goes haywire somewhere, is this the furnace where we all end up?… cuckolded by a whim for the futile future, to suture the wound closed to keep this vile substance from wandering out, out amongst the peoples where even the sovereign has to take the order or two… to be brought down to the levels of humanity once again, the courage to selectively collapse a system that doesn’t work as usual for too long now, but Here we are aren’t we?… our plastic prophylactic faces smooth and rubbery to absorb all the damage done by years of the self abuse sustained at the unyielding fingers of tormentia disgraceful, the commercial high mind wielding the animosity of the trapped animal buried deep inside of us all, and manipulating our social structure into a direction of natural atrophy that will sharpen us through assaults of all kinds… flies wandering and multiplying and the suicidal haze, as the work ethic works to gain the most capital that our money can retain, but who wants to realize that when there are all types of negative nuclear warheads abandoned around us?… selling ourselves short just to have a selling point on which to form a basic standard to trick the others in living up to the same ratios to replace that tender legal love of money with substitutions instituting their new deals to move us along, our collective energies serving up a picnic feast in an open field, the likes of which we can never know for sure or it all becomes lost again… diced and sliced up pieces of freedoms, my friends… this linear adjunct gives me the bends, a series of twisting and turning inclinations, and yet pulls you back into place for the next round of shit… not too much to sift through with these haggard ideas of the ways things should try to be, and a lack of honest acceptance for what reality will be inevitably, whether we can do something truly effective remains to be seen… i have tried not to look too closely at people, they feel your energy being directed at them, but whether they can read intention or not is still a mystery for me… though it seems that the spirits like lampreys floating about around a person keeps them generally aware of the immediate goings-on, and there are even a few blessed with conversation with their holy guardian angel, tapping into the mysterious potential of energy and knowledge from the true self…

Thanks, khet.