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Blogging as the bugger.

to make ever more excuses, today i admit my crass obligation to human fears, but the kindness has not deadened in me yet… no more god than aspect of reality to be seen as meant to pass between crazy men in their fascist rules of loyal truth, sovereign death that lies to us sainted and pleading through eyes that are not his to see, and stained painted glass too dark to gaze at mutants through now that there is no room for a view as a simple pass in the periphery too much poisonous abandon… no room for the pilcrow in this mess of superior of contrasting diction taken for granted too far when everything else seems to contradict the mind-at-large, i much enjoy the Carpenter’s work when bloodshed is at stake with Halloweens and Fogs aside, but we shall await the scene now set alight with screen ablaze with stars from another time lined with cocaine freak out head jobs walking around… subatomic ghosts and shadows haunt this being thing that rattles with deathly noises and its accompanying hassles, the astral becomes physical through the nightly hallows saturating those moonlit shallows in the face of heroes made neither bought nor formed by enchanted mold, but was fired together forged in furnace fires strong and worthy for a soul… a seat of possible cosmic control, the common sense breaking down at the subatomic level that translates magic from its depths, but thoughts theory breaks away from Pandora’s box of the everyday as the streets are filled the dead and the living… the brown eye in my ass looks into the depths of the human anatomy as one might have burned the church to see into the god’s angry acts of faith in particular waves, shedding the tyranny at the outside world lives locked away in the dark spiral universe of cruelty, and a sun bathed red in the blood of the men as they would die fighting as slaves against the sudden and hard-wrought conclusions betrayed by fierce selves as zombies sway in the spacey golden sunlight haze… the culture eats its dead in cyclic recycled machine flares that roar and rumble through humble instinct trans-interpreted again from alternate scripts of binary numeric codes and cryptic glyphs, the fluid etheric emotion in troubled confrontation of complicated equations making the air thick like slime and/ or mucus as the doctors and experts were all gathered aside from the herd of the wasted and depressed monitoring the nothing activities, and letting the scary things enter to play with our heads in the corrosion of conformity moving around in all things as it was delivered from an extraterrestrial burial at flight selling out the religious salesmen living without truth, substance or benevolence of the mental energy directed forward into space as we now know it… the disappearing trick is quick in its act most enlightening of swiftness striking the spiritual divorce, emanating a coherence of force enough to distract without recourse in a damned fatalist urge centered to diverge when appropriation is right of aligned heavenly bodies conjoined in its present life the anti-gone entering on the residual dark matter as sudden as it chooses to leave the blight upon this earthen altar hewn from an energy expunged from sacrificial world energies left Here in the abyss, but a warning transmission left in a future wake in burning inspiration by the bare thread of prayer for death as dead things would live trying to briefly reveal a disturbed movement into and through the ignorance as the flow of information is purged toward the ceiling… as the madness brought back to life again to thrill the human souls out of their broken cages, inside of each of us is the worm bursts outside of this chrysalis womb built to last is inhumane thrill sought after, and demanded by bastards of of dead spirits fermented in the root of the guts of the pulsating ones left after this slowly-moving devouring wave tries to take one more piece of the human mystique… marked from the beginning perhaps instead of the random quick ended event we might appreciate, an image distorted likeness of mankind as though through a carnieval lens directed at malevolent ends, and reliance upon distrusting opponents brought over from an edged darker dream than this… where the street schizo is Alice Cooper without makeup…

Thanks, khet.