what Sanity has become the law?…

divinity made us digest the manifestations of a source whose silver cord from the motherboard is as vital an accessory as any hairs teased or plucked out of the visions beheld by few but those bodies eclectic enough to run through their river of life thoughtful of the safety switches that dismantle a system like this so thoroughly-upheld because otherwise total chaos is not reliable or so can be said by creators of a differing strain at odds because of the pain of elements like queer variables stacking up odds cracking the compulsion of worry and dread that possesses our souls for a collected sort of flawed creatures crawling as much as trolling the passersby whom trash each other by the age old rarified stench for which we find ourselves used to much like the climate and its ever-changing disintegrations with the coming of the transcendental pulse cowing the hatred and the discord with a similar sweeping through the lands as bad as plague winds carrying souls of the diseased in poisoned hazes, and clouds rising up from the dramas of dust as the sands so crystalline demarcate time that sundering sovereign source that curls about the visage of a world’s wonder with elementary particles to become a summoning grounds for the cradle of civilized behavior enchanting with nurturing word in an embedded hibernation hyper-native hyperactive hybrids now clinging to the toilet bowl cesspool to suckle a little more stench and decay from humanity through their collected inception of false goods amid sinister services vice-like and squeezing the marrow from bones consensus reality takes for the granted righteousness we are enslaved to as barely a wage worth living that uses us more than we use it as a means to an end in the endless stabbing headache that reality and society appear dead-set on making plainly the distaste of viral gossip and tumorous rumors erupting from some uncoiled stringed incident connected to the rest of us stirring up the vitriol into an alchemical marriage between the ‘good’ people and their limiting brains, short-sighted and myopic… the systemic infection gets the hype of hypnotism impairing our judgment through waves of the television media brain surgery wrecks a few more lives in the soup of coup-de-tete laisse-faire capitalism turned fascist schism by those offset kindred who have dealt a horrible fate to the rape-and-pillage of Mankind ilk and their elder villages of dust motes and heavy tradition causing as many nervous breakdowns if not more than what should be nervous breakthroughs to further accelerate the heroes to their proper status as leaders a bit more reliable than the dysfunctional political lobbies privatized by the people with more wealth on their side otherwise impotent dreams and mad rantings of another lost soul raising hell mesmerize these thrill kill cultists on the rise aside from the slayers’ flare fiery like wings from a hell’s heart furnace gone rancor and sour coals killing the battlefield as much the farming former frugally varied from aeon to aeon, but the ticks and leeches of the partisan trick acting the patriot when it shall suit them only though with such self-righteous vanity that proclivity is normalized into whose strange parts it lies not an answer but a swerving path forking the road that would be easier to run without the option however the mess of the cess in which to suck has been fouled long ago by all the spawning fools whirling around for a couple goes of thoughtless play pooled around the ankles like a wadded pair of panties noticed in those gaps of pounding thrust and rush of sweat and lust as a view skewed and skewered by the perceptual meat passing genetic priorities met anonymously bestial in our best suits the naked ape in the emperor sheep’s clothing clad in unseen strands of primal peekaboo a juvenile try at a game doctoring the results because of emotional cues and chemical responses within an ability to respond beyond the means ending dreadfully i expect on some occasions, most of talk as an intimidating segue to give in to our baser instinctual evolution to mate and fuck and kill likely all the best killers understand something of this territorial pissing on electric fences stood in an awkward angle centered yard-level to the totem pole and the laundry line in wait for summer shine…

Thanks, khet.

Posted by deaconKhet on December 12th, 2019 in backwash, blogging, dark thoughts, rants & raves, s for Semon..., world at large. You can leave a response or trackback from your own site.

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