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the bungle party

the bottom feeders are feeling on top of the world if only for a split second before the rug is pulled out from underneath to defeat the upstanding notion that only as creatures these blighted nightmares could have soon reduced our civilization turned insult into culture as the crazies leak out some time after midnight when most of a beautiful working class are asleep and dreaming of then random exploits when sharpened senses presume the worst of these functional people daring to seem okay with their futile few of days intent as smothered by the next work day left, cutting into the flow of those activities keeping us sane as a vile drying stain forms like a chalk outline around a life lived in vain whose force of being has driven them to the edge of humane standards that some in society try to positively reinforce amongst all their fellow human populace while more are being forced to live upon the edge where this type of humanity has no easy foothold to call ‘home’ as beasts overlooked by society lurk encircling and moving closer as a tighter group together, and these harsh consequences we face daily amidst charging harangues as irascible words push deeper than any fist has ever struck resonating in emotional ripples as a fine line crossed between friends as enemy voices trigger guilt and self-loathing next to second guessing how these truths used are those that define who we believe the individual to be as more than merely some lonely creature wandering around deserted by the real within once confident of plans made that we figured were right to ourselves anyway… while seeming so glorious to walk these streets that glimmer with a supposed bloody hope set free teasing our senses back to thoughts whose questions lift one outside the unusual trip that most masculine misogynist pigments of imagination have stubbornly maintained as any waves of intellectual truism setting about to change in this paradigm have been violently opposed by the ignorant human animals coming in droves to protest the protesters with piss-poor arguments and pain as their most frequent resort not lastly nor as an emergency as there is no room for discussion with a thug of instinct misinformed, what is right becomes wrong even when confused meaning makes a difference in reaching an assurance that reality is the way it is even though there are many monkeys attempting to wrench this fascinating outlet that existing has commenced in Here where it is asked who are those monsters stalking us if not ourselves looking for answers while completely refusing to listen to what is said, but sometimes we are overwhelmed by the ideas of an abstract or conceptual reality even as we have adapted to these pieces sifting through for relevancy that radiantly shines outward once found and pulled to the surface enlightening not only our works but rippling out hopefully to other thoughtful generations…

Thanks, khet.