…everything we do is wronGone…

…everything hacked every system whacked out of status quo creating its own version of reality at the same time artificial intelligence gently telling us we are wrong and always have been but without words affecting us as deeply as we affect each other with these vowel sounds out from the depths of our bowels making howling noises from the pain induced by laborious vivisection cutting us open removing the motive from our unique physiology though ignorantly digging through all the rest of the organs necessary to live Here desiring required mechanized assistance as primordial medicine used to make better, sometimes in crimes of passion we get lost to the beast inside ourselves whose authority tells us to attack before we are harmed in this perceived battle to the end no rest for the wicked who assume they are better than any one else because they are never that which they boast most about themselves in positively overpowering personalities that suck breath from the words of others before they have a chance to speak properly in fact dysfunctional at inappropriate times awkwardly sharpened sense of humor does damage to those sensitive to nuance and misunderstanding jokes dismissed as just kidding, within a world reinforcing how ludicrously wrong we are capable of being even when we know the facts there never seems to be a right or correct way to live that is truly universal in its application against all persons Here causing tensions to rise occasionally of intrusive scrutiny leaving every detail in civilian life feeling as though it were just one long hallucination or simulation we are constantly left curious what’s next to incentivize our steps forward instead being weighed stagnant by backwards motion pulling us out of touch with the world around us as confusing synchronicity troubles our senses… deep enough to rouse terror of failure if that is what repels us or makes us pause cautiously though curious to a fault lines drawn fade in shifting sands and loyalties obligating us to act while we can but trying not to be too hasty creating nasty repercussions that never cushion our fall juxtaposed in contrast with our commercial accumulation of goods and services capitalist gods and their servants more likely reproducing us in their images than some intangible master tracking all our worst mistakes over the short respective lifespans we have as individuals trapped to atone for all sins, packaging it all into one sweet deal through laws such as supply and demand becoming presiding theory over this dominion of biased statistics using all sciences at our current level of tragic disposal susceptible even though imperceptible with an eye so naked it requires other lenses to promote its strength because there are so many potential flaws that a body holds growing ever more vulnerable as these vessels continue aging in this journey that feeds us long after death being more than capable to stake a claim upon limiting our active time Here manifested as lethal obstacles ready to kill, as one of those well-paid losers throwing their loose two sense into commenting upon how we are all nesting dolls of torment kinetically passing these heightened states aware most acutely of how badly it all must sound coming out being read hearing it put to voice as subtleties never planned are provoked from the material by humans acting mostly on impulse alone guiding their personal journey through timESPace no matter who we find to connect with or share this life with there are limits we personally abide by whether it is ever made clear is difficult to say for sure…

thanks, khet_:/

Posted by :\_khet on April 5th, 2024 in backwash, blogging, critical concepts, dark thoughts, g for Galere..., Miscellaneous, my art & dreams, personal afflictions, practical theory, rants & raves. You can skip to the end and leave a response. Pinging is currently not allowed.

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