All The Wrong Topics dot com

I of the storm.

i know it sounds trite very much after the fact, but abiding influence with further intrigues the respective stories lining as they all intertwine with each other at once in one time or another’s mind, housing the tidbits of a remedy for the spiritual drift that pulls upon the practices of the other as manifested in the people Here… no merely disposable creatures are we as even the infamous Thomas Paine realized our psychosis long before we all had ever began to see it in ourselves as the great 100th monkey situation might deem worthy in the myth-making act we are all pouring our soul into, as the strange bitches brew that stirs the urge with dramatic mystery of intent and action irredeemably wed in the shadows of the cosmic trip moving faster and faster as the idea of heavens hang over our heads, but there is no uniform in this as human constantly revises and changes even in the midst of static confrontation with conformity and its authorities holding chosen societal reigns of power over those who were manipulated into believing the mythic qualities in the kindness of Man… seeking order to assuage the chaos only natural for the rest of us to witness the debris swinging loosely around this bubbling exosphere housing the matter of material consciousness without a religion to direct the flow of traffic from the chthonic reaches of the earth swelling and effervescent like a magma or hot spring perhaps there just destined to break loose of the surface as wings replace that flowing form directly founded from the sea, the righteous womb where the faetal mistake is in our demanding of a perfection for which there are no conscious controls manifested in this real world state you might sense before you, but we have all been in this larval realm between worlds before the active consciousness sweeps over us in puberty or adolescence staring into the face of that human in the mirror staring back through the many floating and invisible thought chains that twist and sometimes strangle the words as they shed from our lips in dread service to that urge to speak for the talking spirit while the mind runs distant errands for other parts of the journey, but all motions decide what outcomes and energies revive the future for the procreation of still more strands of diversity shifting both thought and instinct within the being struggling between a static expectation and the constant dynamic fluctuating that implies and pushes forward through all change to reestablish those ideas and conceptual symbols remaining in our grasp… the waiting soul imbibes from those negatively-charged elements of Earth and Water as reflection to our solidity and liquidity equally shifted while the sparks of creative and conscious intellect informs the rest of this cosmic “body without organs” as we work to capture and guide the memories to their appropriate purposes while the experience of the questing spirit utilizes the twin forces of Fire and Air to understand and respond to the answers with multiple actions at once in all realities spinning perpendicular and out of the range of a naked eye sight or comprehension without a little suspension of disbelief at first to help grapple with the tougher elements of truth not so fully defined as the large and impressive Classical archetypes already relied upon as the concrete and asphalt of this modern age moving beyond the solitary mind as it individuates experience equally between all of us, in tune and burning off those detrimental skins that continuously ignite and shed themselves from the darkened heart of the animal Man who relives the chaos of raw earthen desire and conflict, but this is merely another myth in the making as hell begins to appear to eat the deceptive cunning out from the new reality we are creating together which has no need of conspiracy except as marker for the stream of lies shooting out of the mouths of the artful interpreters taking the time to subtly weave each striking piece of artifice to the ideology depicted on the faces of these warriors racing for a finish line… the challenge subsumes the direct witness as the magical ether triggers the frames of one’s mental prowess toward an enlightened craving for more than unjust consuming and digesting under the disguise of scholarly pursuit and the wages of sin, there is no one truth that can be known wholly and transmitted as wholly the same among all people as we are all piecing this puzzlement together as well as apart within the realm of each one’s own mind, but where we fail is in judging in hasty assumption to exile those alternate realities…

Thanks, khet.