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Stomach of discontent.

the mind does not move as the conspiracy around shifts slow circles that loop and confuse the casual observer, the food is now caught in tethers that anchor the body Here in the human ‘want and need’ syndrome that capitalism has made us this way so fat and utterly grotesque, and yet ignorant as a great massive grey area reaching from the fog where we suffer as a cattle herd to the birth and feeding to being harvested for our meaty bits as the mechanical anti-human system wishes… the rumble of the deep infernal consumer in these layers of hell atrocious where there are no bathroom breaks as toilets overflow from somewhere below in the ground, playing our tolerance of dis-truth as this certain and unwavering reality begins to grow and expand beyond comparable limits exposing the weaknesses to be exploited by the distrustful massive Here amassed to the heretic hymnal as it plays like a wicked bout of muzak in the background, the details get lost in the surge of repeated harmonies as the people at first recoil from shock and fear and surprise all at once taken to new heights in an out-of-body experiment that lures the all self-released conscious seed from the human dandelions we are, but the drift is caught in the filtration system set up to catch all the jesus fish flushed against the exit under false impressions as the smarter of us start creating their own versions of this new mode called ‘reality’ enforced by the others that are locked with us inside of the bubble as well… some of us have spun around this axis before only to come back once the illusion rekindled its interest to calling back the conscious beings in wanting to know that the density they are traveling through is not only one in the out there, but is in fact yet another pocket inside the multitudinous universe as it expands and contracts around the idea of a conscious existence that asks for somewhere there is no action from which to retract oneself away from, even though both the positive and negative influences are utilized and enmeshed to such a degree within all this immanence that it creates the necessary balance that requires us to be in order to manage the knowledge transmitted all throughout this and all other incarnations our selves become absorbed into the act of the avatar enthralled by a culture that acquires the being early on as worker drone to train in tasks and duties amidst these corporate lifestyles and financial chains binding everyone tightly together in one gigantic clusterfuck that makes us all edgy and anxious around the fringe of the acceptable thought patterns we allow ourselves to think in place of freedoms… to say we have been swindled from the start is easy to mouth, but lip service is a taste for dishonest hypocrites, not taken to lightly by the ones that fake before they make whatever it is they really want out of life… the nausea is only natural when the zone of discomfort has been allowed to stretch out in a rocking back and forth that skids along to an ultimate destination where there is no reliance on glitz or glamor to swindle the believers, it all comes naturally out of the patterns that further force us to respond to the trance as it lazily hangs in the air like heavy particles on the verge of rain falling from the sky, but it only comes when one opens themselves to the unchangeable whippoorwill that surrounds us all even as it manifests in various forms before our eyes individually Here with the cliches catching in throats that were not meant to speak with the tendencies toward ill over positive tones as we all share this timing in differing segments and segues into a personal truth for everyone else Here… what is there left when there is no absolute of comfort per say which can be relied upon indefinitely without some tipping of the balancing forces supporting one another through this position of reflecting energy, so as the twin influences move parallel to each other to shatter preconceived notions of all stereotypes and archetypes and the ideas of superiority long held to be truths, but have failed us in our modern age of technology expanding ever beyond the bounds of imagination though also dragging us into the hammer-and-anvil compression of shape into raw data… we are stories waiting and begging for reality to occur for us each one at a time like some great line drawn in the sand for us to queue up for our turn, the next numbers are called with sometimes excitement and sometimes grief in warning that this could be the last time around, but we cannot let that stop us from performing the ragged little tasks that we have come to hone as our own if only to find unity in communication…

Thanks, khet.