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…fictional “psychotechnographic” machine…

…whatever works the magic that triggers something other than fear or guilt or sublimation to an ulterior being Here gaining momentum while crippling our own capabilities to live and play as rough deceptive game played by players who betray at every opportunity the rules that are sometimes not made as explicit as they could be when trying to communicate upon others the so bored and complicit to your commands proving you are the winner in at least one strata of the pressurized environments that cement us in as participants whether we like that or not it forces us to find ways on through instead of out because that directive to jettison is the easiest of all to fulfill, mind-altering technology to pull out the tragic wild animal within us all as an order to dominate and set it onto submissively deflate the soul of another without their specific consent to the matter as a version of psychology turned psychopathy when used like a weapon against those attempting to find patterns around the selective chaos that permits so much randomized debris into the atmosphere of fearful content that no one should be exposed to carry the effects of this ecologically-caustic apprehension over committing atrocities in our names without a single agreement to the process Here as it handicaps so many of the massive that it betrays the system for being the cold clinical nemesis of elder ages passed, cast down and out as part of this detritus that accumulates on at the whims of unmerciful entities who famish the masses without hesitation should it yield any profit not for prophetic gains as previously thought and consumed by people who are always seeking answers for vital questions searching far and wide for something to fit the place to that piece of the puzzle that remained unsolved as other parts melt or erode away into the dramas of dust that mould and shape us to this day trying to find ways around the radioactivity signalling… a carcinogenetic breakdown allowing the carcass to become thoroughly wracked by metastasized fluid and vapor turned solid inside of the plasma core of our being perhaps itself seeking a new form capable of breakthrough instead of how this vessel breaks and repairs yet not as perfectly as imagined by forces inside our heads saying cryptic things that may never get answers before we too dissolve into the vast ablyss like dreadful artifact of superstitious realms as separate reality to this version as works of our collective stories that reveal a bizarre makeup more true than fictional ever considered before now, as the only thing that is real congealed to the surface stuck witnessing the society of bros and woes going nowhere fast steal away glimpses of what it must have been in the decades after the drifting sands of time coalesced cohesive content uncomfortable with itself placed amid the humans and their ilk whose tumultuous circuits of resistance create havoc and waste in their wake as damned flotation rafts drifting in a holy see of consecrated death and debt gone the direction of a certain creeping range lurking in all dark corners somewhere wherever there only remain a fringe of rules, as we all can become radicals or pirates or whatever role needs to be fulfilled by the latest crew member whose memes advance far beyond their years of calling this wasteland home because of old souls walking in and out of the material plane of existence through us and others like us knowing aspects of what it must seem like to utilize all varying timelines composited Here…

thanks, khet_:/