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a contradictory Motion.

there are few truly disposal in-betweens in life… sometimes we need to be told to fix the pattern in order to contradict our own wrong doings… the world is full of reciprocal dangers we should learn to avoid… because less knowledge means more fear and more fear means less knowledge… the wasted cycles need to stop Here… an absent-minded tirade of the worst kind is when you are trying to defend your limitations… we are the distracted and the oblivious… like the difference between active and passive questioning of reality the way it is… we strike while the metal is still hot to the touch, burnt by the misfortune to be born under a bad sign when the fire reigns from the skies, and tears away that fleshly disguise from those masked rotted corpses walking at night with surprises to hide… a disgraceful lust that shines up the rust of the bitter and decayed human skin, as weapons born again and again for the rules of the unjust in a cruel land built up of mayhem and stunted growth, but these are the creatures whose knowledge of the real makes them ill for all intents and purposes… caging themselves into hostile environments to test the ability to adapt as surrounded by venomous villains in their lack of discretion, this is the disease as we have grown to call home, and its systemic dysfunction without which we would have nothing to show for ourselves except for scrapes of the dead locked in our heads somehow projected there by force of method… the television hive glows with the undiscovered foes on the inside disposing of the reasons to live, hording the few pieces of real beauty to the elite ivory towers in the distance too far to reach from Here, but just close enough for their tainted words to lure us off-course… distraction is the name of the game as the entertainment peels back layers of conscious awareness for sedative delight, and the substantial abuse of the system that retains the sensitive prophet for use as a figurehead tactic has outlived its uses as maniacal propaganda machine, the war has finally come into our minds instead of our doorsteps because the last great frontier is the involuted introversion of this human virtuality plugged right into the next world… crazy from the heat of this strain and disciplined edge which surely too few have ever wanted to hold mastery over this way or that sway as the rhythm moves you because again the general you and the specific you are two different things to be sure, this is the crux of the situation that everyone gives into when a being is considered too generally to think it applies, but it does… some of us all can recall an instance where the limit of vagueness was breached by this term i have given, and we are then subjected to the unreal status of the living object that is no longer human, when the day job hits one needs to rely on their resiliency to outlast the debris and destruction… only so many seconds of breath in these lungs, you see, not as though every effort is worth it as we keep pushing further to insure not one misstep the goal we must try anyway… to see our self-fulfilling prophecy sparkle in our eyes as the lights in the sky grow bright, we are deserved for something more than this painfully chosen regression again and again to the open interest of anyone not involved at all who wishes entrance into the place we might call sanctuary, but still further on is all we ever blankly know or is it?… that is my screaming visitation of questionable motivations as they come from on high where nothing seems to matter to them, are these the gods or just lords of the sky, and are they watching me while i touch myself?… paranoia’s a bitch.

Thanks, khet.