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Cat as trophy.

going into consistent detail has been a tiny strong suit that needs to appeal to find way into the foreground of this literary thing i have kept in my basement for abasement purposes perhaps, the filter is harsh and unkind as it does not allow for moments to rewind before the eyes like a remote control over the televised nonsense fetish that displays our darkest every whim, but this is not the end of all that ever is. not Here anyway… even as the sadness like the death of a close friend takes over to find oneself recaptured in a state of bliss that dreamily recreates perhaps all those positive traits as they are relived, and expresses their mood as attitude to strut and define the selfish self as today’s test, with an elocutionary stance perhaps best left to the native natural speakers in their attempts to encapsulate this madness with the quantifiable terms necessary for the unwary to learn things that would otherwise go into that blind backyard abyss… writing is a certain dance much like speaking aloud allows the degenerate filth one has stored in the brain to come out pronounced better than other terms of a practical nature of consent between the other mental creatures Here, we are not the only ones to try to see, but we are certainly not the more superior nor dominant specie on the planet as there be far too much of that idealized symptom of leisure as treasure or vice-versa as the simpleton massive gets captured in motions prizing those prideful gestures that suit their natures the best… like prowling leather-bound books in our gear and glossy threads, letting no one unworthy into this head that wears out terms by ritual turns as the world remains unsettled as yet, but the molten sphere underneath our feet burns through our literal-minded pages printed and typed on machines of electric fire and forgot by hands without thought… wandering clouded as warped systems of government attempt to control a mortal fate with far-voyaging fingers that parade as agents of change not hate as so many other systems have burnt themselves out blank before getting to this current paradigm shifting like tectonic plates at the well of the world, a molten vomit ready to spill out and corrode the open holes closed by will and determination of the forces that break down reality to be recycled throughout the circuit of enervation as the various particles circulate to the other parts of this system as bruised and beaten as it is, but this what we have to work with lately and is just as good as the rest of the others standing in line… we have to face the rhetoric of a deranged and propagandal prefect placed in a position to be easily perceived as the enemy, but put into a context that appropriates them for the purpose of community safety, those tasked with protecting humanity have to decide for themselves who is worth saving and who is to be condemned… the starving masses make a life and the starving artists interpret that life into its variable fashions, the doppelgangers take their time in finding their analogous selves to make disposable in some way, and to further prepare the self for offensive attack from someone who isn’t me or some subtly intoxicating notorious killjoy that leaves a soul pondering a coherent state of being… where anyone can come into contact with contrasting schemes that are not of their own creation, the fiendish squalor that plunges us all for a dip into the moon-shrouded abyss, and a random display of spastic conditioning to utterly downplay all signals leading people toward a creative resolution… moves made in reducing the tragedy taking its toll on the humanity hoping for sanity as smarmy and twisted manipulators foreshadow the forewarned with their cracked window of insight onto their more silly foes of conservative rags enriched by token wealth stolen by so many unproductive others in the way, the obstacles of the stable human condition in an daily reality submitted to agonies that a human mind must conceive in order to utilize the depths of satisfactory knowledge we all take for granted, and to displace the yolk of the unforgivable acts that weigh upon so many of us… we are in danger of becoming the stranger exiled…

Thanks, khet.