passed lies dead, long live past.
I grow wistful, but it really appears as nostalgia incognito, the hidden sentiment…
I grow wistful, but it really appears as nostalgia incognito, the hidden sentiment…
Kismet for the dying culture in the unquenchable age of thirst and famine for knowledge.
out of Context;
‘the reason for the title of this post is because I am taking showers later at night to insure that I can wake up and leave much quicker, but the results are vague at best as yet…’
out of Context;
‘the graceless slip of speech, when mind and body misaligned to reveal the magnetism of failure. that negative monkey wrench that has been thrown into the works to corrupt our severed senses inside the bubble culture.’
out of Context;
‘pop implies that a cataclysm of conformity will bake us inside of our skulls in a way that we shall never really recover from.’
out of Context;
‘the massive bulk of human meat spends long hours staring into blank space on purpose. but is there anything to be seen there in that hapless void?’
dissuaded and dissatisfied with the corrupt aide of the ego in my culpable hands, attempting to harness my peculiar reasoning for a lifestyle set in contradiction, and take on the ownership of self through the lens of rational dichotomy in autonomy… crafting a question somewhere centered inside all real personal belief to be asking while staying true to the absolute identity…
out of Context;
‘this has been a learning experience for me, and I hope you stick with me through my phases of writing…’