All The Wrong Topics dot com

regurgitainted.

swallowing this mess is next to impossible as the strain forces us to choke up and out as darknesses swirl in to greet our conscious labors that were currently as awake until met by this present arrangement seething through our teeth when trying to speak though all that is left is the refuse as dark matters are fading away into nightmare sequence hidden except for the feeling of fright that exudes from this bare hole in which we now sleep filled with swirling dreams each leading us to our density Here in a realm forged for us to sear with our own hands and minds making up the substance of the perils we walk, a sight once the throat closes up with vitriol reaching up from our soul as planted by the merchants of faith in ardor as the curious friction fills those feels with anxious anticipation of wherever we appear to seek a simple conclusion twists and turns to avoid an easy solution to these manic spaces we find ourselves within sealing away the last resort in case the time capsule bursts open like a pandora’s box and has unleashed the essence of horrid reality burning through soft tissues like wildfire, and rampantly raging full speed ahead into the lonely vistas of subjective human consciousness left enough to roam the landscapes without masters to manage their affairs as wisely as when a common people sense no end to the old predicament in which we spin and spin again to wash ourselves clean if only to mesmerize with blank ideals sold to us as imparted wisdom from a floating kingdom of saints retired from the way life works though this is rarely a truth with rules to measure anyone by… speaking from the heart is not as easy as speaking about the heart whose fury drenches us in guilt and worry sometimes soaked to the bone when we have not prepared ourselves for this treacherous state attempting to undermine our choices with substitutions galore as reflected mocking pieces puzzled over for centuries acidic as the burning digest occurs straining and dissolving our myths when we have consumed too much, feigned a sainted state like this where either we become representative of the shadow consciousness trying to explore or we are conscious selves finally peeking over the wall at human experience taking place Here where tame creatures battle raw forces whose mad influence tries digesting memories through as many vectors of attack as possible when the beast has a hold in as many minds as it takes to rule the world, but these minds are not merely the men found who need to justify wicked actions even though the appearances are deceiving to everyone trapped thinking that these insane citizens indeed speak for our higher authorities or consciousness whether through manufactured gimmicks made to manipulate or the ways in which people wish to know more about their world and themselves in the constant search for certainty plausible in anything material or well-known as the material contains too many worlds to conceive of by any means necessary as easily…

Thanks, khet.