Manifestations of the Catalyst.
we are Here to know which we then take back with us into those outer reaches of space and time as we perceive it to be truth, but which still escapes our sight as beings of both pure light in the process of transferring the information in its rawest forms as well as the beings of thrashing dark matter that pulses with life unyielding to the constraints which a human race might inflict upon it, each part played as a necessary role filled by the maintenance of this balance on the cosmic teeter-totter sometimes shifting far too fast while other times shifting too slowly that we would want to feel the odd motion under our asses… and yet we just give in because to go through gets us out and past those mortal chains which claim us as their owned property of souled and bought for spirit Here only for a short stay while the rest of the world can sit and spin or stare in wonder and amazement, no respect anymore for the pure joy which can give our coveted innocence the life we equate it with even as the truth in wisdom would advise otherwise for us thoughtless beings to think while the animal trends all pass and fray like dead ends cut away to keep the healthy growth as flowing past the problematic shifting sands of time and space, but even as the wisest among us remains unheard until after their posthumous recovery from fate’s twisting debt to be toyed with and remolded in other distant eras while somehow slugging away at the measure of a person’s self doubt through action and slavish devotion to one ideal or another as there are no more maybes left to hand out as any sort of reliable excuse to force or carouse the others along that don’t want to be… like unwanted bugs forced out by a poisonous poultice that acts as a harmful gift with a limited scope of blessings while reacting allergic behind the scenes as an ally to the more “humane” methods of killing off insurgents in a given region, we could study all day the habits and flaws of the populace in general even though nothing could ever really save us from their problems except for compassion in the strictest sense, and that would mean an overhaul of the insult culture we have come to know and love and hate with a kind of sense of passion that throws the conformists off their chairs in whining gobs like mad infants rolling about in their unfitness like the dying gods they had always hoped to be someday… rich magnates with their dulled sense of magnetism spoiled by the pull of commodities from one hand to the other in an ammunition shell game of massed proportions on either side of the illusory fence that protects no one at all in particular if these demon days are allowed to boil over and spill messianic heavily onto the back of a people united like a carcinogenic vampire that claims its right to bare as many arms as the mutilated octopus is allowed by the state in this case, a devotion to the keeping up of a righteous demeanor in order to bolster the morale of those familiar and foreign wills with our provocative policies and proposals toward a quality that has remained undefined until we choose to define it, or are forced to sally to the surface with the knowledge that comes from acting to others’ benefit that which doesn’t seem to fit our tactics going into the conversation of conversion as it collaborates a genial face to work with into place shining like a bastard sun to distract from the heinous crimes always taking turns washing the blood away behind the backs of those refusing to see it so sure and splendidly as a necessary and murderous form of population control… force feeding the unintelligible with their own feces to further the brain death of society in captivated intensity while accepting nothing of history nor the world we now call ‘real’ as it plays us for fools and betrays our trust in its plans for truce and treaty alike, the greater good is mocked and insulted into a derelict stance with pants falling to the ankles as the riches to rags scenario plays out to fruition the apples and oranges of attrition, but the reality check is cancelled by those who hold the golden admission just as the surface was tickled by the ancient feathers flying before a hunter’s sights move to catch the lined up vision to further shoot-to-kill such unaware victims as this… we have betrayed our notions of playing fair games…
Thanks, khet.
Posted by :\_khet on March 28th, 2012 in a for Anagogy..., blogging, c for Colluvies..., dark thoughts, m for Manque.., rants & raves, world at large. You can leave a response or trackback from your own site.