a Halloween Lost
the rite of passage of time that eats our bodies and minds slowly as we divide our time to conquer and manage the situations placed in front of us, taking into account reality only when it seems that the wreckage might be about to fall down upon those so involved trying like mad to develop some witty repartee before the shit comes down to bury us knee-deep in our weak end states of panic and anxiety in this society at large running rampantly in charge, and vying to take the lead where a leader can promote the disease that tends to disrupt our sense of the elite with their rituals of shame and blame acting on all practical particulate pressures unimagined by the most careless or ignorant sloppy bastards out there… the game is a stacked-up series of oddities left marching through the streets to be a lesson against the remaining actors in the favor and best interest of the truth and united claims that humanity could rise up again if it needed to make things happen, the vital roles are still being filled by a captive audience turned into participants in this roman circus that curses us with an animal tendency towards the violent and horrid actions, and energize those fiends inside of their warped little real time cocoons which to mere mortal eyes look like towers of glass and steel that rise higher than life above the sea level for all to gaze upon as like a fetish god with awe and spiritual prostration as we choose to willingly appease the hollow brains of these false frauds possessed of a selfish means to these ends… and forced Here into a corner by what we pretend to be the case that contrasts with in the reality most concrete concerning the digestive masses quest for any stable profits made to reflect their habits, the killing zones inhabited by the native interests are set to be sacrificed on the altar of motion built and maintained by inhumane money of Mankind in its urge to work wrongs into becoming the last rights left to a humanity bankrupt by its own demon kind, but these are no common enemies that wander looking as for the appropriate victim to fall into the trap when the hazy line blurs between that which can be true and which is objective absolute truth… you pull me down with your insecurities, i witness you struggle, but you can turn an oblivious eye toward what you desire settling for what is there instead… you have become like the spacing in a jerking certainty, the odd start or stop before the ending of a movement, and i find i do not like this disease with which everyone else seems comfortable… keeping quiet while the various parts constrict and pressure an able body into materializing, the servant purpose we observe traveling between each other magnetized by electricity that manifests as humans doing something… anything that will give the humanity a reason to live and strive to be better than it tried to be yesterday, when no one was looking directly at them trying to erase the bad times that teach us the remarkable lessons we come to appreciate over a simple casual thoughtful repose in later years, but what of this makes distinct the boundaries between seen and unseen realms of perception but a functional set of eyes and handful of common senses that we abuse in relating to one another as we trust the nothing that materializes thick like tension… does anyone else feel like me, the slightest bit nauseous with the thick solvent in the air like breathable water, a fine mist that evaporates into the human being as surely as the wind in our lungs, but we are survivors for the Now fighting off from this deep dark place inside… this is the case with the printers’ devil Here who stands ignorant up to the unknown elements abrading us all in this infinite labyrinth with neither ready explanation or absolute guidance without chains, chained as we are to the dark horse of capitalism and the corporate corruption of democracy used as the bit for these old soul-suckling life-takers forcing their ways into the subservient subversive tinge of red that has by now bloodied the waters swam by those who can live, the world becomes a divorce with darkness and the irresponsible greed for the new and original works to subdue the raging temperament as whirling locomotion triggering the call to the wilder things yet out in the wilderness driving on little sleep like madmen from the corners of the globe… coming together to homogenize their madness for turning the pulse of the logical insane in frustration of all plans to ward against the positive forces out there tripping balls and stumbling through the mind-numbing to rise phoenix-like from the ashes of their ego and self-doubt as commanded by the fierce allies of these odd gremlins and fairies alike, changing the unorganized energy into a pure ideal of forms in some unified series that cannot ever truly know itself or be utterly aware of its own full expansion beyond living space and rational dimension, but we do have a bit of holographic seed laid deep in our consciousness that is merely a jewel as it projects that internal spark through the prism of the soul which animates all our human genetic sequences crawling along the terrain of this dark matter as we are each born into that which reveals its individual truths as it appears we move with linear intentions… however, this could not be any further from the generally accepted perfected ideal of truth that most, if not all of us as a society, start to believe from the beginning as we idealize things too easily in the process of the developing as a living organism in moving from given situations on into the great escape beyond this flesh… we are Here because some see choice where others view restriction and predictions come to pass…
Posted by Friday on October 31st, 2012 in backwash, critical concepts, e for Esemplasy..., f for Floccinnaucinihilipilification..., h for Hwyl..., l for Logogriph.... You can leave a response or trackback from your own site.