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all the Slow Children

we are all so slow… queer and bizarre… the gradual breakdown of reality… hear the sounds as they collide with each other in the vast outer reaches of time and space, the little epsilons running wild among the trees in this forest, and discovering the need to seek aspirations of all designs in order for real progress to occur… the dangers of becoming part of the robotic massive that utilizes the human form so casually, mimicry of the half-asleep sub-dermal programming in millions of random numbers, but this does not make your future any better… instead it makes your empty worthlessness exist by leaps and bounds against the grain of real time urge for necessity, and you decide firmly that there has to be a reason worth the time and the effort spent to maintain a particular lifestyle, however false this might really be in all actuality… trite self-delusion of ultra-human-type literal mind, to take heed to take warning, and come out of the whole ordeal as though the sparkling clean maestro of the eso-meta-physical… nothing cures the whirl of social anxiety like the dual effects of herb and lager… this too slows function rationale down a little for the jester to become the more efficient in being annoying and obnoxious in the extreme, as the conscious mind relaxes in its logical pursuits, and the passionate soul would rather overtake the emotions of the carnal beast… the sluggish inner dimension blown wide open for the furnace chamber it is, the heart centered at the top of the ribs, and the pulse a dead beat rising in rhyme to the reason twisting the corpse alive… the labyrinthine threads through which the needle eye accepts only a few, the straws that break the camel’s back, and your mother becomes suddenly struck awake and alive as well… up through that rotted birth canal which we all jettison through, the womb has no other choice than to obey the fist, this the where the creative purge comes in handy, so-to-speak… the Slow Children are not necessarily retarded children, but merely socially unacceptable mental cases to some degree, this is the haunting realism to the situation currently prescribed the vacant mind through a spastic reflex media… condemning the softness with a militant edge, the soldiers who know nothing and want for nothing other than the next fight, and the excerpt for straight uni-dimensional reality that has underlined “conform or die!!!” is too perfect a mantra to be real in the grand spectrum of all wavelengths together… at once reborn and born for the very first time Here on the mortal plane, at first the mindless sensate vessel oblivious to the world at large, and then in the the next phase of life as creatures learning to cope with all the various cruelties inherent in this fleshly gore… these strange commandments control and condemn the soul to harsh and unyielding rebuke, devil’s advocate i play to wield the persona with the particular graces of charisma and spectacular faith in the ways i work the judicial system, but i am not going to accept just any certain reality that makes too many things a simple rotting finale to the whole process… the family togetherness is what i am looking for when i think of my pet projects, many ends of the same concept holding the uniform appearance intimately connected, but maybe my hopes are too far set into the future… when everyone will need a lift up from the daily grinding fuck machine hitting them square in the arsehole, as the system brings down other personal systems, or gets brought down to equalization levels beyond pinata heights too far over our heads made to swing and miss… to function in that resplendent pocket of just outside of smacking distance, the range leading us to the new plateau we seek, but not every humble soul will reach within the span of a single lifetime…

Thanks, khet.