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sepulchritude

dead beauty all dolled-up and objectified by the massive stiff fingers that flip through wrinkled pages a few at a time glancing the tits and ass with a cock bulge trained by this service industry that prevents any substantial growth out of the juvenile mindset programmed by the most of humanity’s mistakes as made before we were ever even gathered Here dancing threatening advances away as bass sounds pound the flesh soaked in sweat trying to writhe gracefully, but winding down so slowly to persuade and manipulate the money out of wallets and into the digital coffers that grip and stroke the remedy out of the sexual stupidity throttled for yet more money and favors than can be bought though the servicing provided needs to be fully compensated well by whoever can afford it as immediately as is possible when the stability hinges on this often gradual build up of tension created when two or more humans seem to be unable to collaborate or compromise on any of preconceived standards easily agreed upon by most of a populace at large, and it is these disagreements which manipulate vice into virtue by creatively mixing desire and economy in the same pathogenic precept to prostitution getting respect paid when everybody says they want to be truly loved though never in the same ways as the people did before in their subjective trials and errors infecting a wholly shallow personal perspective into a raw embittered opinion hardened by brutal experiences triggering distinct offensive reactions to circumvent or remain relatively safe… engrained by these shifting fates as another one bites the dust unexpectedly whether through rancid self-abuse or the extremes of moral obtuseness creating an invisible coffin that no one should be able to breach though our own stubborn ideals of this awareness making patterns in our brains of that which as we will see defining the background area once the noise and negative space clears because privacy we crave is an illusion, one that we savor maybe as it recalls that uneasy state of death and silence that will come once the youthful glaze has started to fade once and for all decaying and ruining any glimmer of hopefulness twinkling in your eyes as you now realize the plunge about to befall one stuck in this repeating cycle of energy moving slowly it seems until those days we are truly tested by our own inner constraints whether giving in to a pressure of facts fisting our head of present data as feelings and ignorance cloud the filters trying to map these sequences, or we start retarding our own systems when coming to see only a handful of details described true when these facts abused though protruding forward at once to confuse as then appear to condemn a world population whose motives are never as pure as we would like to think them as being with as much positive reinforcement as possible as this lop-sided system tries to balance…

Thanks, khet.