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Eight days, a weak.

the tarred and feathered spirit created by a workweek fear of god sported by the paycheck steering wheel moving puppet-bad feelings displayed, siphoned and defiled by the discrepancies that others use to describe this place in its flawed disgraceful flaying of our skins as we are decayed from underneath, and undermined as though portrayed weak and utterly useless this is our age of the sagging breast which drips its decrepit breath left dark and swollen… the cycle of plagues has become a cloud overhead as though the chemical burns were not enough to see with eyes unclouded by the polluted acid rain which stings the eyes and can defile the brain, the water collects as though no one died in vain for this poisonous stew and broth driving wealth into the insane mind mad disdain gained distortion claims into whose eye i reflect thee, and though the vapid soul exercising its distinct power collects nothing from its fierce cries… the toxic spirit still tries to gain the upper hand on this odd motion machine as it rises up from this cesspit in the shadowy glades of the soul’s display, moving the mind’s capacity around through stages of grit and dirt that boils up to the surface as though a glimmer of hope could appear at any second without betrayal of the feelings that impale the heart’s blood listless, but this territory was never meant for the feint of heart or the mindfully hateful in this case… a misanthropic psychotropic flair that demarcates the “who is this?”, and “what is that?” that naturally occurs once landing Here it becomes apparent that you must stay until you drop dead from the ‘PHFear’, or ‘Potentially Harmful Fear’ of the unknown that deems itself the parasite implanted between the ears… it suffers the unfortunate to believe every paranoid thought that streaks like a comet through the dark abyss in the skull somewhere deep, not even plungers or stray psycho-therapists (aren’t they all?) couldn’t reach the fathoms that require a fist to loosen more accurately, but that also is to say the violence is necessary which it is not… though if the struggle is violent, the most honest adaptation would be to retaliate, and this is when violence begets violence into a ever-spinning haste to reach the bloody end… discrepancies from the gathered affair were rather alright as i met new people who might regard my delivery of words and ideas something enjoyable, but the ego’s opinion gets a boost when the capability of the self is met with the righteous praise and wished esteem, even as the sense were randomly smacked around a bit by the imbibing of fluids that make the mind work in at first subtle ways into frenzied wringing of the vocal cords… one, two, three Guinness in my stomach that night… to be topped by two previous blog posts, and a wonder what the next open mic night will be like then, finally though people seemed a little tired of pointed speaking of personal wreak as the time grew wee… the friendlier i became after the casual ranting with aftermath involving two more alcoholic beverages along with a jib provided by these newly acquainted friends and i, loving every minute i was allowed to bleed my heart and head right there as it was such an involved process that summoned so much inspired positive bliss as have never had before, and that followed me half-asleep all through the next day as i truly could not express in words as yet my friends… maybe you can hear me speak in turn as i would listen to you, but perhaps you are more willing to hear my words more than your own as though i were the only thought in your head allowed to be the scapegoat for your dread, without fear of friend or fear of foe my words live beyond death for those that have read… i am the capital offense of freedom left in the hands of the human, and the words of my frail strength are making a new world from the old by devouring those concepts too easily broken down and digested by these infinite gestures, recycling the measures and refrains from judgment or disdain we recapture the laughter from the memories left alive…

Thanks, khet.