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Crazed and cagey.

blank the mind runs without distraction as those around utter phrasings off-set and off the point remarking in their subconscious envy of a purpose, the ones whose will needs the concentrating move to redefine their stance against the distractors and what they are deciding is worthless in comparison with their own feelings of worthlessness in competition with the rest of the preconceived ideals of the less-than-humane goals of the few, but we scramble to succeed however we can when it seems we might have a window to reach our dreams… that rarely a slave to fix anything modern can achieve without the world-class help and ingenuity of a community setting, the place where achievement is not on any pay scale, and you need not ask for a raise because others genuinely care that you are a fellow with them… the plight of the animal husk as it rusts and falters in step, the sorrow of the old and wounded manifest as the callous whims of the materialistically wealthy as they retreat from their lives in the real, and attune themselves to the ascension of their baffled cosmic dreaming as though vital to the great puzzle work seen before us now… both forest and trees are united in their domain of stillness and quiet, and while we drift Here on this mortal plane, there are destined things to pull one way or another in the direction that lies perpendicular to the horizon… this is where our solar experiments are taking us to cross the threshold of our body where there is no violent end or wasted pain, we tread so lightly on these eggshells set up like a trap to squeeze the annoying sounds out of us, but projecting all we can do is think that we understand what any of this means is out of line with the true spirit within us at all… the little boy inside of me is frightened by the lecherous adult that lives on the outside of this carcass, the externalized series of lessons mush the body into these forms that shift as appropriate to adapt under stress and duress of duty, and to defy privileged attacks from the insulted cowards in their ivory towers to whom thoughts of joy and happiness are merely fodder for more instances of rape and plunder… our faces drawn from the ancient gallery of names and lords, where truth varnishes the soiled steel of the martyr’s death that springs forth in monumental glory of idols, but the vanquished edge of the brink as exiled by human moral codes does not care for the false words of hope generated like meaningless marketing campaigns destined for the toilet of the future… then the flushing occurs, and nothing can be done to stop its sanctimonious ends whipping about like tendrils from the core of a chthonic mass wanting more knowledge than it needs, the essence of earthly valor is dead and the dried up longing left to us today is not the adequate substitute… as there are substitutions of one variety or another isolating themselves into the genetic structures of sound and feel and sight, there are few traditions that are not bounded to some degree to the mythic operating system Here, and the signal condenses the experiences of the many transmitted into a format to be understood by the few that have the skills and talents necessary to imitate the running of things as they were previously thought to be ordered… this leaves a good many of us fellow beings feeling constrained into an earthen cage of sorts that has no give or take, but merely holds the soul inside of this living organic minion of subconscious terrains unknown in any earthly scope to us… perhaps the animals are more sane than we are, utilizing their subtle mind control upon us while we sleep, and fomenting start of a /\/\ystery agenda that will supersede the entirety of our daft and often times unusable cultural aesthetic… a reapplication of universalism…

Thanks, khet.