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Empty Bottle, Loud Noise

chores mean more work than we had figured before in a ritualized sense leaving very little evidence proven true that labor as reinforced by strong-arm goons is the most profitable method to manage the servants and slaves, forcing a well-behaved idea that we have nothing to worry over in their sheltering abode Here as locked down labyrinth mismanaged by masters once driven to now succeed by whatever means necessary that does not involve the similar inferior work ethic to which the sickest elites are appalled and allergic, but the confrontation of sweating and bleeding are parts that most avoid relating over as opposed to relishing of the difficult tasks putting into good use by challenging the more manual of us whose roles are action without question into serving us… the thinking machine becomes less about understanding and more about following orders accurately to which one goes on without question or feeling making us all feel a bit alien in regards to the soldier whose predicament gets caught in the air as a proof, that a system based on violence is broken and tries to break its people down to a level far below an average or normal by pushing the buttons that can knock down the individual person into their cornered hard place through the mutual gestures of insult and intimidation assaulting the senses of decency that a person becomes convinced they share with the rest of the massive Here… a grave sickness overwhelms us and our thinking into believing ourselves at the root of our faults when the environment and the people acting mindlessly or purely on survival within its fringes can affect the person just as detrimentally, we see and hear the real stories that occur everyday in the streets and off-street as well in the dank and gritty steps to discovery beyond being forced into this corner like an animal contained as the other animals in this zoo-bound urge to catalog the world, and then to eradicate those “awful” traits that subjectively serve no purpose in a dying stasis view of fundamentally extraordinary natural surroundings like what we have been born into as fact that is as untrusted as the words on the lips of liars and thieves alike… each trying to steal away from some pocket of truth to pilfer the trinkets collected in youth and haste in trying to find the essence of what we truly ever wanted in these individual chases for some better conclusions, my multiple meaning phrases summon themselves through me as though i were channelling electric spirits like a radio or television or logging into a vast majesty inside the digital universe discovered behind these cold flat screens as they filter our wishes through to be visible in this reality, and the windows makes for a good moniker in branding 100th monkeys out of all of us as we wait in line to buy the software and all of its updates rabid with enthusiasm at this modern wonder as we try scrambling to be at the cutting edge in this technology revolution… making a mockery of the right moves necessary to get where you are trying to go as the path sits in a state of disrepair because of the few who have traveled this way so long ago, but it is not such a terrible journey as long as there is distraction tearing loose stagnant numbing urgents (entities of urge) that allow for one to unhinge and plunge off the deep end, we are terror-sized terrorizing while we are razing the dead to satisfy a need to feel supreme in abilities as well as in access to knowledge that lie fettered like feces as trail to lead us away from the prize by madly throwing shit in our eyes and this blindness scars us all our lives… to be tricked into training oneself by the loving creatures called ‘family’ as the engine starts up as soon as we get inside the school buildings which house the jekyll-and-hyde seed of conformity burdening us with contradiction and static manipulations of the young and impressionable, seat of the driver for this optimal delusion we manage but do not so easily control it as the better of us gets scolded by an inner mantra of ‘get it done faster’ for being too slow even if we have all of our ducks in a row, but no matter what this system feeds into us like an unseen umbilicus we have the choice to resist what we are given to go after those things we cherish on our own as all of us have to in order to succeed… no slack offered to the kindness of strangers any more as the belt straps are being pulled tighter by the hand of authority taking its role too seriously as a sweaty fist gripping success like a garrote meaning to choke the life out of those whose literal minds are limp with exacerbation from the overwhelming gist of offense taken, pompous pontiffs proclaiming their righteous abandoning of hope for a complex arrangement of rules and supposed facts which taint the truth around them into hues of the absolutes whether real or imagined remains ever-ambiguous, or is there some vital mistake whose resolution lies in relics scattered worldwide as vague curse or crystalized catalyst for a tormented scheme beyond the stars as Lovecraft might have surmised in his ideas left behind?… no one realizes the hounds of hell have died consuming the dark of a civilized heart as it tries in vain to remake the worse into better even as those good intentions are flecked with pain and suffering on the road to the hell we find Here in our daily lives as lies hide the proof underneath the surface of the pudding, a blood pudding culled from the depths of whatever humanity is to offer up to their gods as a multiple cast of reflections as the true self sacrificing pieces of dream to be alive Here, but what sediment collects at the bottom of this barrel that would disgust a digested individual invested in the new world order of the digital in order escape the endless amounts of misery possessed within this physical place that keeps up with no demands in particular… the crass and rude bear heavy fruits dropped like gravity…

Thanks, khet.