All The Wrong Topics dot com

Flowers of spring.

there ways to be worked like a nipple, feeding the energy to the rest of these dull and humbled creatures, but it is this fuel that moves the cosmic switch… the release of fluctuations held under the glass for only too long… steam starts to build, and then the spiderweb forms through the glass, like iceberg chunks hanging together for an instant…fortunately, the lazy and the crazy don’t seem to mind the casual butcher’s grin as it appears when the “miracle” men we look to for guidance bring out the knives to use on our dead forms, but we are the squirming-panicking victim of a systemic infection of the mind implanted in the middle of ages ago… we have roots in the sensitive and the sturdy, the soft ground beneath our feet houses more than makes sense on the surface, but there are not many who think that actively about everything… the blooming minds birthed one at a time, absorbing the biased information like the plant assuming a human eye through some gradual osmosis, and grows into human forms as an earth-bound spirit… the horizontal and vertical meeting at specified points along the journey, where from stone and earth come the refined metals and minerals, and comes together at a vital junction at the ever-abundant plant life entwines with the animal world… it is from this conjoined vertical drive that animal leads to the human and further towards the “super” human, but this is where dispute and vague undefined collisions occur without a best direction to be guessed yet by unnumbered masses made flesh… we are more than the stoned immaculate or the cold and harshly intellectual, more than a beast trying to assert control over all of this land into the next, and we are more than the fear that holds us back… even in the dying through trying there is valor and respect, as we shatter preconceived notions, and learn to trust ourselves when nothing is absolute as tangible elements go… the digital becomes more than a pocket for commercial gain, but public forum to erase and promote certain data structures inside of each other, this is the gift that the new age has brought us… the final freedom to sever the need for keys, when instant access is what becomes the ‘in’ theme then, and there is no corporate plunder evening the field of dreams… we need to allow ourselves to grow into more than just respectable business people, or the upper class elite of social scavengers that peck and choose, we need to exercise compassion and courtesy with one another before it becomes too late for this or any system… pluck the pollen from the implanted protean joy that mankind has not made with blood-soaked hands, there is more than one way to get high on fire without getting yourself burned, but no accepted process for this defamation in league with the legions of nightmare crawling up along the spine… fetching the mind’s moisture from out the cosmic well, the minutia of the bug life on the fringe of the animal spark attached like lampreys and leeches to the under carriage, but not directly harmful like some other parasites and bacteria that would form their own opinions of what necessary means… the cells rebel against what they see as unfit, while deep inside this circulation of whims and moods that beset us all in one fashion or another, and these feelings rise like the unburdened on the way to better scenes… the sweet smell of abundance…

Thanks, khet.