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Materialist blues.

a rapid onset of weakness from the extremities, as i wonder what is wrong with my capacity to acknowledge and subdue information to use, but the shot in the arm is that i am just as much a beast as every other one that craves to break free… like a total distortion of the fundamental values, blue in the sense that you have used all that there is with nothing more left, and you must now learn the true value in people instead of the proposed value in objective wealth… snapping the limited supply of body parts, with only access to a sheltered self-devouring system of thought and tissue, and the old stories needing to be repeated just to remind the forgetful that fill the world asleep… walking around with shoelaces untied, drooling and gibbering over the trendy social motions, but without realizing that they are just the glossy surface devoid of the experience at all… the effigies in the midst of destruction representing the encapsulation, the experience or the collected momentum, which is the worse excuse to use when speaking for oneself?… to defy any logic of common sense and courtesy among fellow beings, our individual centers of self that refers to itself as the ego becomes bloated and retarded with too much blinded wishing without wanting to understand anything deeper is the lacking quality to our kind of creature, and feeling superior to the other animals as well as a proposed rhetoric of doctrine meant to gorge the youth on brief uncommon scans of cultural fascination… because fear strikes a strange chord inside of the human animal the most, no one challenges a status quo until the explosion reaches a boiling point, and then there NEEDS to be a righted system of balance… the perceived “good” and “evil” are two evils, one is lesser though both are for the material manifestation, and the motion of memes constantly-reinforcing the skeletal structure of the deadly ideal matched by the “dark” extreme… the manifest lies because it houses itself inside of the safety of illusion, the emotional/ mental adaptation of the psyche specific in each one of us, and it is this cosmic womb from which we break through when we are ready to take the next step… the organic portal opens up, and leads us to a realization of the neutral, that the expansive void cradles the rest of potential energy beyond this world… there is a very fine seesaw motoring that takes place inside the formative spaces between places out of reach, whether macro or micro cosmic expanse because they are all infinitely feeding into one another out of sight as the dual horizons, but we are as nerves on this solid ground as we crawl the living surface one of the many… neither really faceless nor particularly specially-identified as superior to the next person, to many raise their fists in a weak attempt make the other submit, and it is this malfunctioning program of control that creates more monsters than heroes… the mischievous entities that distract and whittle away fibers of more than these foreign devils residing within the more obnoxious corners of the psyche, the instinct to thrive describes itself without words, but makes the “right” ones known through their own native systems… as the ever-present multitudes fluctuating energies back and forth, send signals to and from the psyche as blood through the vein, and the reflected vain look back deeper to find themselves in a hole they have already dug… still floating somewhere amidst the ashes, and the fire’s glancing below with no further leap to go…

Thanks, khet.