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Duck and cower.

atrophied moral instinct helps establish the ultraconservative terrorism… in livid denial of the self, either through the political body or the abstraction of thought, but there comes no resolution until both sides matter equally in the same arena… the social structure needs a heavy-handed revision in order for anything at all to be salvaged from the wreck-in-waiting Here, we try to save our own habits and tics taken for granted, but do we ever really see what disparaging remarks that are garnered from the faces that eat our ranges of dispossessed logic only to have it spit back into our own faces with a reversed rationale behind its awful momentum… the disproving of human worth in the light of necessary steps to get ahead in the culture that tries to weigh down the human construct that an individual must retain in order to uphold autonomy in the hive mind, finding others to bring change about in the primal general law battlefield as comfort becomes the hidden facet that we admit makes us happy, and that we surge forward crying out for a new place on top of the compensation for culture shock that our own society delivers upon its citizens with sharp objects… the nails so easily hammered into place to seal the lid shut, and this our culture and society staining the inside of this wooden box, the thinking must be from the outside of this coffin lock box or we will never get out of Here… i suffocate because of the lack of air to breath taken up by the other fellow explorers out there, the limited supply of adaptable behaviors for some few advanced states that are palpable just behind the scores of other ignorant dead end tricks that the human animal can get good at, but it would be folly to think that only the limited few reach this supposed heavenly plateau… the moronic pseudo-intellectual, totally ineffectual in general, has triumphed over the multitudes on the twin coasts of shared civilization… the filmstrips from what feels like centuries ago have filtered through some of the eldest generations of us to formulate the consistent patterns that underlay the surface exterior whose reflection dexterously evades certain definition, and though many stare open-mouthed at the wonder that prevails in this now awe inspired whirlwind catastrophe showing us our own distracted message on repeat, point where was there ever a point any more?… the idiot box and all the programming have taken me away from me while my childhood relieved its night terrors upon my frontal lobe where the magic happens, what might resemble a bandage to prevent swelling or bleeding is wrapped around the eyes to prevent the witness of invalid ideas and the subtle forms of judgment, but there are no tricks to master that anyone of could master necessarily is we are always in the process of jumping back and forth between trains of thought simultaneously riding through… the haunted, blistered face of the beast looks human, but it snarls and criticizes the rest of the real humans for not being strong enough to kill it… this is not why the evil stays alive forever, the concept inside the human mind dies as that mind dies, but passed along as a viral construct linked between many minds creates an authority beneath the surface of human interactions… we panic and disassociate ourselves consciously from the patterns of people around us because we can stand solid and alone amidst the flow of information and the recycling of data that occurs from overflow, and somewhere in the insane mess that stems from the hordes that is revealed a singularity that echoes that lone branch of consciousness, the meditation as psyche and awareness lock to form the whole being…

Thanks, khet.