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the act of God.

so there are many things that one cannot chalk up to fate, and there are just as many items on the great list in the sky, so many directions that nobody knows where the debris will tumble… shallow fates weave shallow graves, and perhaps there is some curious twittering of kismet that drives the spark further out there in time-based derangement, the Great Soul broken up into shards of material that tries to remind itself of the passion that resides in the heart of humanity… lingering suction upon the primal drain that is the narrowing channel directing this humble flow of waste, the venting out of hasty retreading upon details and diameters suffering out the movement of diversity, but how to describe this ridiculous spindle of swindle?… the pretentious fascist facade that decrees and perceives us when we are waking and asleep, and demands the surface of devotion among the residual collective, the hive mind also matters to the structure of what is needed to hold tight in the palm under analytic eyes… deistic demon directives boosting the next step of the way of this trip, the somewhere/ anywhere that takes the place of intelligent design, and the man made dreams of grinding perfect order calls it quits… we are an act of god, but what is it that we are calling god?… are we always thinking of classical reference when we speak of that mystical mass beyond the skylight?… by classical of course i mean to imply the historic tales of the Olympians, the Egyptian and every pantheon known to the anthropomorph-romantic manner of humanity, taking the hearth wisdom of ages beyond our recollection through oral and literal traditions… harnessing our cultures into place for a rebirth into unified sanctum with each other as a whole, or is this yet another lie hiding within their arsenal?… to transmit these sacred implications gives me no right to take hostile stances towards everyone else Here, but what else have i to do when at times i have a difficult time liking myself, i want to feel humbled to your glances even as i feel no one reads this drivel… the harsh phrases have made their way into the vernacular of special significance because we layer it with so many other action/ reaction sagas… the continuous exploration of the extremes by all these different aspects of the true self, where a jesus figure might have been one more person relegated to the role of sacrificial catalyst in the greatness of expendable elements left alive in ignorant habitation just before anything like being “chosen” under ill-fated auspices in a bottleneck broken dream squeezing the ill-favored through with their cop bribes in hand to do the trick where just anyone gives in, and allowing ourselves to know too much in the questing for right and wrong amidst the denatured absence of real values or respect for other younger waves of creative energy… procreative grief over the insanity inherent in being this way, that comes off as a panicked state of drifting understanding the inspiration as much of it floats in the aftermath of atrocity, and the campaign crusades trying to force our truths under a sterile impotent careless mask of sincerity even when every appearance points otherwise in reality of nature… the demeanor can begin at formulation a disgraceful dimension to consider, or even to reconcile with good conscience, the meaning within its horrible ulterior motive as both sides in any struggle get screwed over by hypocrisy especially when this idea modifies into the ‘hypocracy’… the human being is in constant tuning of this existential instrument we define as reality, this inhumane bubble that outlast everyone else, but this is merely one sequence perhaps of the billions enacted over the course of our finite time frame… who knows for sure, but we are the machines of analysis, every detail under the ‘just-right’ balance of potential versus kinetic energies in the intense scopes quantified in our minds… with thoughts like these who needs a god to fear, or a god to be ashamed of, because all things stem from all sources…

Thanks, khet.