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Dawning of the Light.

a new year means new opportunities even as the realization dawns that every day is its own new year reborn and rebooted into the lame human format struggling against the grain of the mainstream hostile to that prudent thinker tracking their own moves seen through the rusted shifting sands as the oceanic voyage eats our footprints away, to awaken simple steps allowing vision and clarity in the midst of this human impiety… in ways that give rise to the respect of our elements deserved as the voice from eternal fire wanders out of the mouth like a roaring heatwave absorbed in its own means of blessed evolution developing for the creative sake of the Muse in its purest form never as manifested in human words… only one of the many archetypes mentioned as blessing for the sublime release of negative karma as the motion forward to embracing the personal embodiment of growth in oneself, and we are such capable creatures in dreaming of an easy destiny even as we know it to be in truth a macabre and difficult process to achieve a world of wonders, we are as ants and as light in this continuum where faith and filth sit side-by-side trying to attain a mere satisfied sense for all the necessary parts in creating a magical bridge between physical and metaphysical realms each of which have many other ways with which to answer whatever questions arise in the murky depths that remain Here… learning how to derive as much as possible from an energy charged by human experience in order to enlighten oneself without being bogged down with the expansive details one needs in order to remind themselves in the commanding of this human power of perception that can distract from the facts as we know them, each personal perspective spins the story a different way which can achieve some other end insular to the human being making their actions known to the rest of this humanity as timing allows, but it still remains a sequence that moves ineffably through the bulk of this mortal task of questing as endured by so many fragmented views on what is this consensual reality that all of humanity has believed to have gone on throughout most of this time and space continuum at the mercy of each other as children… as humans, we perceive of the inanimate phrasings of the machines collectively chanting into our ears as a current to some underlying message as electric charge between the hemispheres of brain, but this is a consequence of our digression into further realms where mind and matter effuse in hard contiguous forms that seem to hold information in its rawest detail… like all those people we know, we feel a sense as though humans are the most privileged cretins in the world, but wrecking and wreaking and waving the hands in the universal gesture acknowledged as a sign of giving up as careless substitute for some horrible version of remorse… when thinking before the act made more severe by a human hypocrisy dishonestly imbibing the negative strain squeezed from this human attention absorbing the shocks in lieu of a damage done by this sordid aspect of human in being that resides within the phantom zone parallel to the light and dark reality we live and die and breathe inside… this vacant shell that houses an individual mind and soul from which to draft one’s spirit into a material and horizontal reality that tries building the potential body for a proposed manifestation of cosmic desire to be experienced in the ways of spatial travel within that deterministic labyrinth this planet Earth as it pretends to not know us, but we are so pieced together from a funneled influence of cliche wisdom throughout generations of manifestation born into this bank of souls vaulted to a point of spastic indivisible decision-making increments of time and worth bartered and traded between the working class alone, underneath the perception of the horrid and influential exploitation artistes deriving pleasures from the decrepit and lonely even if only inside of their bedrooms of ivory suburban towers about to collapse from the changing world striking lightning upon their sacred structure wet in the appetite once the digestion has it in its swallow grip a shallow grave into which those indifferent beings are flipped… as the sacred begin gathering for an evening of the newborn annual rituals to again pivot upon formal format of the social breakdown as made into oblivious yearly calendar sequence to party the night away, where people degrade themselves as puppets to the fascist state from which history has compiled its survivors to be lead around by their psychopaths and a sociopathic corruption of the human trust sequence as evolved through the brink of distinct extinction of various other traits from the surrounding tissues, but the rise of a fever-pitch game of protruding cocks while measuring the levels of insanity spilling over the edges of the mild-mouthed lips touch of sadness drooling into a pit of madness where the dreams drift rancid and abhorrent to the passers-by… where do the socks match?…

Thanks, khet.