All The Wrong Topics dot com

Distracted food.

wondering what to do with no one to give me guidance, like the plight of most beings, combating the unsure polarities that pull from all angles… the me i am is wavering on what getting the vasectomy will do to my attitude, and my mind keeps manufacturing these scenarios without the light of a positive outlook, a small procedure turns into fodder for nightmares in nervous corners of thought… a kind of odd fasting has come over me as i reach to meet my child-bearing ability’s end, i am eating less in the days as they go by, and my former habits are shortening to nothing as my preparation envelopes the personal meditations i feel the need in expressing… the squeezing point of pressure even as some aspects of my personality are not like me… mistakes are the blanket i seem to warm myself with, the negative reactions coming like white hot explosions of emotional weight, constrictive and limiting the reasons for growth… feeling as though the material i waste is really my own, but there is no real way of knowing how true that is right now, even intuition seems a faulty system to derive comfort from… but what comfort can i really derive from the system in place, when a helpless and despondent sensation overwhelms me, and it seems as though the world is brimming with ???… is it consequence that seeks me?… the pull hellacious from unfamiliar territory?… the thoughts and emotions and actions are always interminably linked in some vital way which propels these ideas forward, the pursuit of cosmic philosophistry, which would be the composing of confusing and contrary questions competing for completion… but even that says nothing except for the self-fulfilling prophesies built from the bottom up, the primal urgings from the forms surging through the creative mind space, and ask nothing in return which might mean something if you are working in reverse… sometimes i feel like my intuition is fucking with me, but i know even that is purely psychologic, because there never really is anything to fear except being afraid itself… it would seem that no man, or woman for that instance, is an archipelago….but we are links in the chains of that i am certain… as the ancestral matter gets carried away to the bottom, or perhaps floating to the top, creamy like a foamy head mocking all serious and relevant proceedings… this is the mayhem i inject into reality through my words, the morphemes acting as the morphine to soothe your ills, and to show you insight from a new and bewildering point of view… there are dark times ahead of us just as there are dark times behind the mask of progress, we have had to deal with it always fluctuating between the black/ white world we were raised with, but was there ever any mention of the grey area from authority on any levels?… no… because that would stem the flow of the raping machine stealing our collective energies, transmuting our creative lead into gold, but without letting us know the truth as though we were never meant to handle that anyway… alchemists of an insidious nature, complimenting the cruel world of discovery that we have been born into, and no right way to cope with any of the information “properly” by any means except the ones you find personally…

Thanks, khet.