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Genetic implant.

there is something different in the raw state of inexorable motion, impaired by my own senses, and quaking at the chance of fulfilling my dreams among the scattered tendrils each vying their own controls to this brain… even as diseases riddle our bodies with natural noxious agents all throughout our lives, there are still massive amounts of people only dedicated to the achievement of establishing their comfort zone, and to hell with all the other indigenous obscenities walking around… my waking life feels like condemnation from the inside, screaming madly against the glass walls, but am i seeing what is actually on the outside or are these filters even working at all?… i try to think, but all i get is this empty space where a continuity of thought would naturally appear to most of us, realizing the need for acknowledging those parts of myself without being egotistic and narcissistic… esteem for the self, but not a greedy taste for praise or foul chatter of the many, something warm to hold onto for at least some time… i would want the cast-off remains to be worth the time to repair, a memory like the self is difficult to define certainly, and there are few ways that we can honestly confide in ourselves against those training behaviors once they are set into place… this is never really the end of the story for anyone, however, because the choice to extinguish any creative flame takes an almost predestine element by enacting pieces no matter how distant as the general law tick-tocks this game show throw-down… where do we even get off thinking that we can act superior outright, and yet still maintain that we retain any semblance of control in the modern world?… the right way to see through the wrong parts of the problem, not allowing the mind to be so easily distracted by the details, but still remaining aware of the reasons for fighting all the negative voices silently speaking against the struggling warrior… it creates a stupendous might not so impossible to utilize, an instrument to shave away and fashion a means to make things happen, and the will to guide and manage that which is beyond the average desire to create… we are not merely puppets, but even the best among our species has had to succumb to the sway of others coveted plans, including the pawn made personal when the time is necessary to exploit the weakness… there are few ways we can maintain a system as blankly lacking compassion as ours is now, the gross facade of the machine working totally for our benefit is the misnomer i think, but being unable to sustain the world we live in now with all of its conveniences is a confusing wall to hit hard… however, the more discipline we can truly make work for us then naturally the tough exterior gets shaped into place as we would like it, and have fewer things to fear from living with ourselves Here…

Thanks, khet.