All The Wrong Topics dot com

You’re the Laughing Man

riddled with the dirt underneath my nails as though forgotten by time remarkably unassailed by the wretched marks that seem to appear when the skin has stopped being stretched, scarred and scratched while digging up through the fathoms of whim fantastic which seems to push us along at the heartbreak rate beyond a mental or physical precipice within our own souls, and we are never allowed tools that have a high mechanical efficiency content for the absurdist drama unfolding around us like a flower whose bloom erodes the shoddy enchantment that a precise rational thinking prevents from seeming real… tears loose in the fabric that create a spasm requiring mending as when a wound occurs on the skin that after the blood and pus comes the rush of a healing factor to aid in stopping further damage, the clots that turn up after the moment is noticed and the next one administers the relief so deftly deserved of the warrior spirit attempting to change the world for the good that it comes as no surprise to the shameless blood-spillers that their wars have been won, and it is time to go home and pray that we decide to leave the ideas of charity and mercy intact so they may live out the rest of their lives peacefully like us in the wake of this dirge and dingy gloom and doom reality truly dying in its’ last breaths of dysfunctional security gripping where its’ heart should be… the living machine as it craves and curiously wins the games it plays without a soul per say but a mighty though fragmentary display of cursed strength as it worms its’ way into the ears and minds of a populace kept unaware of the oblivion shedding off into the warm depths of a collective brain, the dirty viral things bearing gifts of decay as they writhe and very much wrench the gears off this bandwagon hearty though it may seem upon this rough and tumble trail to sail of into the glorious sunset horizon dreamily awake, but rabid to face new glories unheard of in this weird constraint taken for granted by these human saints sinning in new ways before us on the living altar of faith and memory as the boredom sets in and wears away whatever respect they had in common as patrons of an old world gone away… the sinister leanings know the right of way as the path opens out beyond the threshold of this bleak banality shining as artificial light down upon the face to be identified in your place, police state takes the names right where you stand to be blamed for the crimes you didn’t commit while the faith of the public starts to sway against your favor as creeps crawl out from a woodwork to congratulate you on a dirty deed well-done even in the face of real innocence to convince of these things they say, but you always are the one with the option of the ‘give-in’ where you surrender and purely trust the cosmic whim to assert the truth of the matter whether odds stack against you or not by official decree that would truly disconcert anyone else in your shoes… no matter how hard you beat the blues… a fear only retreats for so long before it decides it is safe to reappear as the outbreak of tragedy from the explosive impact of violence on the domestic front, it is such an unthinking act to merely do knowing well that the action is going to echo in a literal sense that eventually cycles back to the offender when they least expect it whether in another lifetime or in this very peculiar situation of today, and we are more than just a group of offenders making havoc in the streets as the authorities try to hire armed thugs to put us into submission holds to assert some ideal option where it is the bruised and beaten as another justified tactic by the government monopoly… teased from a beginning fraught with peril by an idiot contingent who is always in a need of more bodies as cannon fodder against the mouths and anuses of that shitty category for which we seem to fall into line as simply as running for our lives, but when we get fatigued by the irrational push that prods us even further than we wanted to go that is when we are thrown down into this pit with the rest of the lions untamed to try wit to survive this plague of indifferent slayings picking the more paranoid of the few off first so there will be no one credible to claim or refute the truth as we are pushed a little further into this cyst’em unaware when it really counts, the car-sin-ogens still in our bodies regenerating as we scramble for disposal at the order of our tyrannical omniarch as they who watches over our sin full behaviors with a lolling jaundiced milky eye filled with vilest of fluids awash throughout this subtle form as though in a liquid skin forming membranes over the insane so that no one will ever be able to deviate away from this manmade nature we are born within… unable yet to swim through this…

Thanks, khet.