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stumbling over Blocks.

seeking the seeker’s haste and focus to find a suitable output Here, the reluctant self eats the subjective criticism, but leaves the exchange of words open for the valid challenge to be revealed as an excessive impact on the mental environment… somewhere beyond this functional realm, is where we exist in mutated multitudes with attitudes to match the recoiled hatred that few can see any use for only glory seekers tread to go lightly upon the dirt and grime of the soiled floor beneath them, and with conquest bitter upon the tongues of mortal cretins turned ghoulish gods before the amassed and confined mind spaces of a collective populace… fight to find the better trends of men that seek the truth outside an atmosphere of lies, a den of hidden ‘whys’ and ‘wheres’ run by whores and inebriated might to fend off the light of a good and grim defense with knowledge that it could lose despite the mass of friends that guide, and formulated from a psyche that can commit with no ease to offend stuck in a gutter filled with despise for the fellow rat or man that only animal can have… vowels dribbled gibberish stains as the same ways of unconscionable humanity wash over us again and again in spite of our best efforts to assuage the waves before they next hit, words of an empty meaning filled with a creamy good taste that remains unquestioned even as it rots in the summer sun with all of its wasted chaff dropped to the earthen ground for more, and becomes a dose of the queer wandering surge as it crawls through the minds of human beings interjecting the urge to be more human than human among the rest… unsettled by the craving to purge the weak humanity for the meat and the marrow of the person you were, and fully embrace the distinctive result of all those years spent locked inside of the self, for no one but yourself you have fought the law but the general law has yet won even as the battles go on everyday still… born filled with the excrement into a world that doesn’t give a shit less what you do with your new-found lease on life, an orphan of a climate that does not abide by the childish electricity ever-changing our concept of everything even as the system relies on this energy to stimulate the movement of creatures on the surface, but we house more than meets the eye in just our own bodies with bacteria and viruses that filter through each genetic matrix in this connection with the other forms and functions vital to this off-set idolatry of anatomy… the corrupted placed themselves where they needed to be to get the best angle on the management of power, whether these are cells of cancer in a human body or ideas that get themselves planted firmly in the water supply of the human consciousness so that condensed versions can travel through the human system without requiring any advanced aid from the outside world, but these vastly different modes can be dangerous in the wrong human heads and hands through movement in obscure ulterior motive creating networks of roots where even bytes of information can travel without breaking down from outside interest… these are the hands of a demented circus clown, hired to handle the wild acts that choose to roll through town during thunderous applause and strikes of lightning performance throughout the cyanide pride of life poisonous to anyone but the artist themselves, and yet we all become infatuated to some degree over the state of this lifestyle’s disgrace whether it means great creative flux or simply the changing of time and space for everyone involved… what remains of this flower’s power once the petals have all wilted to the floor out of a deathly bloom inspired by paranoia and gloom as the world goes dark and dim with the light that it had from within, the people are jaded and tightening their loads against their beds to prepare for the burning that will take place then, and the fires will not stop until the useless are cut off from the rest of those sorry examples reinforcing the lessons humanity has spent to learn for itself truth in its human words… liars in their livelihood sociopathic of intent exclaim grand gestures of perilous moral flavor to gather the distraught and disturbed to their feet, with the talk becoming that of esteem for the creeps and the cretinous mob that yells and retreats from the smell of insulting turns of phrase that chafe the social snakes that are shaking the trees of their wealth to lead the unaware into the disease of this forest, but hanging like a noose upon the branch the couple pluck their famous fruit from lies the snake-in-waiting who gives and will take… the so-called poisonous role that the bringer of light must take to bring us all ‘home’…

Thanks, khet.