All The Wrong Topics dot com

Fodder, suck, on the unholy coast.

the fairy barrier, what we don’t care keeps the nightmare alive and moving, but this mister nice guy is really the worst nazi prick it might seem is just as oblivious to the noxious truth as anyone else… all these concepts further distract us from getting to know ourselves any better as individuals on the inside, all that intuition and instinct wasted by an injection of systemic infection of biblical proportions that worries itself into horrible catastrophe like a self-fulfilling prophecy from some lunatic asylum, but there need be no fear beyond the stories the animals weave to keep the times occupied while their bodies slowly tread path of decay as layers of pollution eat the meat of being… for too many, that is where the scary things are said to begin, and the eyes of an angry god are easy to make moods of hate and self- satisfaction among those selfless and caring who are given no simple ounce of comfort for their journeys, instead left to wait for the hope of an infallible fraud to step forth from the shadows… of which there is no need for the people to have these competitive feelings within as there is never an accurate way to compare another person’s outsides with your own realities inside, a blank and shallow robot fills themselves only with the immediate rote memories to get through a day, and very few autonomous individuals get anything real beyond their sheltered extremes as those handful of events would change the mind of anyone one hundred and eighty percent around on itself… fearing to question reality makes us all reveal our weakness changed into servants to others, chthonic deities residual inside our bodies, but constant in their own sensitive thoughts at warring underneath the fleshly housing we give them… another organic portal burned through like cord wood in lustful portrait of descriptive gesture at some virtual length and leisure, bodies of thought and feeling combined describe the experience ever expanding the functional art of adventure, and how is it that we can project and commit such appalling acts onto each other without ever having met at first?… the faked authorities try to restrict what they don’t know, and all “true” knowledge comes from books and orders and other ideal remedies for this chaos filled with potential all surrounding us, you have to learn defense against the dark arts on your own as no teachers care long enough to look you in the eyes as a human being… giving up much for the most mediocre known… the manufactured perk that comes with the playground as we move up in levels like the games we play teach us to observe while paying attention to how we should move in reaction, taught to allow the more disposable to go first after the madness of altruism breaks down preventing another one of us from saving themselves reliably by believing so extensively the main party lines that get handed out and repeated since birth, and this factory is not so satisfactory in its production and ritualized aspects of religion taken in extreme disguises to the various lengths that it takes to get points across to the persons listening to the message… we now know how to encode our own social signals so others cannot even begin to pick up on what seems obvious to the most oblivious of us in the out there, a total disgrace if there were a god who could dance up there, but there isn’t and i trust that because we’ll all be boxes of corpses one way or another in any day all too soon when it comes to greet you face first… the broken taco takes the cake by leaps and bounds impaired by the group mentality that takes beliefs way too far from where they started to begin with, but it will always annoy me to no end while conscious life eats away at the daily life indeed, recounting the established quota of parts has left me parched and thirsty in this deserted age of responsibility indifferent of the pleads of mercy from bitter eyes… the social mind feels bankrupt when no one ever participates on an equal plateau of thought, and we allow emotions to speak volumes before us in a preceding cloud of destiny that captures the imagination by storm, to free the spirit and the soul from hiding out in the vapid obscurity that most of us take for granted… if we be damned, then by damned we will just have to be, Here…

Thanks, khet.