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Abject, i say.

if i weren’t this poor… there would be no people to sustain the growth of the endemic white plague on humanity had there not been those elite few who thought it their god-honored duty to defile the human awareness of the world around them, government in all of its backward capacity for greed and selfish expression of corruption has distorted the actual image of truth in human substance, and we have all participated in the retention of this system in insanity… the poverty of the soulless ones who find themselves weakened by presupposition and worry straining to find a new host to relieve of humanity, choosing the option to either stay or go is a tough one because of all the data that convinces a more emotional facet of our self, but the only way to decide is to listen to all those human centers within the person you are right now weighing in for the best odds scenario… the sovereign debt hits the soul of every hapless yawp screaming out with last breath, the human vibrations turning into prowling predator wolves amongst the sheepish and nonviolent masses as we bleat and yearn for some power over our captors instead of this habitual weakness enchanting sacred leisure for a cheap lives lead for another master’s pleasure, and our blood poured into this machine as it chugs away through night and day knowing not freedom but the subtlest of this monetary bondage… always on the lookout for another culprit or scapegoat in the works, the hierarchical eye on the prize if you will the bottom line as commerce dictates like a broken god through the ears of their mad profits in the pit, and forgotten about life we grovel at the heels for scraps of fortune like precious wisdom to pass on lies in a totally invasive process of giving in to systematic shutdown one by one… you can see it pisses me off into the barest threads of nonsense what we repeat and leach and die for off of the central horrible (whore able) affliction distressing the conscious whole, as the sharks and opportunists scramble for the blood like red jewels shooting out of the veiny little ley lines networking along our arms and legs, and the sinister singing fling of the fist into the face of another fellow human being strikes me with painful distrust for our own push and thrust that we might somehow know better for no other reason than what we think we own… we object to this grand operating directive of ‘kill thy neighboring states’ because what will be left when a black horizon glows with death in light of sight of tomorrow’s awful stunted growth, the moral conjoined to the law for some idealist and used-up picture of gray with its trash and debris floating in the windy wayside blowing a casual way, but not while we are locked inside the cars so long and mean with teeth eating traffic smoky spills of the slowing energy as it dies to a grinding and mechanical halt… the crushing concrete weights falling and smashing those yet still functioning in screaming heaps of collapsing meat and steel, but even ‘what fate could this be?’ i would say to the mothman’s rise as terrestrial harbinger of nuclear destruction, as “he” has come to us from the multitude of the mutant kind locked in a potential dimension waiting for the change in a negative direction… we re-invent the future constantly upon this floating island of temporal safety while it lasts because energies kept at bay throughout sections of the universe, perhaps our last hope before it all caves in would be to find another of those pockets holding the cosmos together as dissonant but clustered particles latched together in the strongest of imparticular sequences, but perhaps i should calm these visions in their incredulity to focus on the day ahead that has yet to happen… the new apocalypse prophets (profits) stand supported in the music that they make, and it is this sonic essence of spirit projecting to the stars and farther that will lead to the revolution meeting reality…

Thanks, khet.