All The Wrong Topics dot com

Attempt at humor.

the talking and the symbols floating through the airwaves are contracting and expanding all over the place, the Diagram seems to lead me to bizarre fascinations all-consuming in its passionate distress, but do i even “hear” it correctly when it speaks to me?… my Muse has given me eyes and a mind to soar further than some of these other heads in the way, we might sit and amuse each other in these small collections of people, but we are also Here with a purpose that can sometimes stay undefined in a way that makes the import of our lives utterly mysterious… under the flesh that makes us all similar, and the alchemy that has turned into science in the preceding ages that detach themselves generation by generation from the natural truth that feels its way through the respect of body and mind, the spirits guide us in our various directions if we allow them… however, we have been raised up into a semi-sheltered state where the next generation is less equipped to handle the world than the last because of an overprotective urge that disregards our actual sense of equilibrium… a balance needs to be maintained at all times for managing our species in the right direction, but there are points to be made about this feeling of being tricked into submission, few clues to support that we have ever been kept manipulated from the start with legends created to channel our efforts into the pockets of those who would benefit most from that potential energy… we are each avatars of a different meta-species that descends from other realms outside of our own phantasmal scope of rational analysis and focused awareness, we come together in the world of universal flesh with diversity cutting marks into walls as our progress moves further beyond our homes in establishing the human quality, and we are fooled by these suits of skin hiding any true nature underneath this sensitive subjective display of traits… in the act of pursuit for the perfection of qualities among the breeding stock, the alien intelligence came once invited to this culture of skin with its own god-form to train the more docile of the species, and we obeyed to the point of absolute subservience that has not bothered to change in all these vast millennium since we last saw our own history fade… a distortion that has distracted our eyes despite claiming otherwise in times of distress, the organic portal laid bare with the necessary things like attitude and understanding, and always something telling us to conform to the rhythm while the world pulses on… you twitch and wonder at what magic will occur if only to vivisect your own mind in the efforts to find solutions, formulas passed on from student to pupil at points where nothing makes sense at first, and then the frightful clarity rolls in off-centered and abused from the lack of interest that allows for one to take anything for granted… we lapse creative impulse at times because of being too spastic/ frantic as we try to measure ourselves against our leisure, the downtime as well we might take for granted because we are so horse of throat to compel the others along on the schemes, and yet we still seek so some gratified thrust forward through the darkest moments we have to endure… more than secret knowledge pushes us to cast lies as to deceive with that slight edge over the other, that force we may or may not define specifically, but always it takes the breath away from lungs that hiss and fill as over we all seem to shrivel still into the nothing that surrounds us… that confounds us into fits of crying there tears down those simplest pleasures, leaving threadbare those illusions one clings to without remorse, or because there seems like a way to empty the mind without being hassled by that intriguingly curious torment in nature… the joke feels like its on us really, i just know i’m not laughing yet, and perhaps i never will…

Thanks, khet.