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…Gifts ov thee Offal Dead…

…detritus debris accumulated debt before relief and all the elements involved in the swirling atrophy in entropy gone amok throughout the madness we find ourselves nomadic and wandering to assume a sense of worth out of wrath for the stupid overlap between systems that soak us in dread and guilt by default in endless repetition when cycles beat like waves against our meddling skin trying to keep afloat when all this shit bathes us in carcinogens while our bodies attempt to adapt with heinous results in each generation of doomed diminishing returns as far as we know what there is to be expected Here, labeling the unknown with such a grand branding that other entities clamor to be recognized as such as well with the attending loyal devotees to worship and promote their meanings in their totality expecting others to do the dirty work that sacrifice requires by permitting human desires to roam freely as our blood and guts are like any other animals with heart warmth beating us into submitting to these perceived ultimatums by nature whose control of ending cannot be undermined as we all dance macabre unlike death itself which conceptually remains timeless and constant for as long as consciousness proliferates this realm of quest and conquest consigning soldiers to remedy whatever pox hatches plans against the commonwealth who siphon wealth from the common folks Here trying their best to generally stay alive while near-constantly bombarded by extremes, as infernal comedy of errors tested again and again through as insanity percolates to the surface as a madness one cannot just shrug off like sloughing away dead skin cells or any other physical manifestation into insignificant bits to then weigh in on as the imperceptible motes of dust eventually can drift together as grey fuzz many of us are allergic to because there are still creatures that exist in that microscopic form beyond naked sight become layers of filth to some those so hazardous and scary handicapped by this naturally-occurring thing perhaps through our preoccupation with cleanliness as a corollary to godliness somehow made and kept in the collective consciousness… many in society wishing for diverse miracles surely can’t help reacting negatively to mortality and sitting with the knowledge of one’s limited time Here appears as though there is no escape from this certainty of bloodied guts poison words and comfort moods without help from the memory of what has come before, no mystery that we aren’t yet to discover some truth no matter how perplexing these questions that proceed count towards the overall score between forces at work in this parallel with humanity such that animal and alien are interminably linked together in the subtlest of harmonies with ideas our dead have left as lessons not all will share though many will feel the sway of these pendulous cosmic ghosts as they surround and settle our world in a drama of dust no amount of power vacuums will ever get cleaned out of this rancid source of historic hysteria, unbearable looking a gift horse in the mouth of madness because it is forever in there as other authors knew before taking the jaunt into the same void that stares back realizing the darkness within that will never see the light of day whose only exception could be the artificial lamplight of the morgue as masked attendants then preparing your body for autopsy perhaps a neutral sterile stinking before opening up the corpse with a muted question of Y lying prone on their dissecting table trying to reveal what might possibly have happened Here for sake of argument…

thanks, khet_:/