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Guilt Pig

why feel ashamed of anything we think which might seem counterproductive, what is that force that leads one to question even those shadows of doubt for their ulterior motives from the deep within a miasma that quakes awake when the lore of our lives has its time to manifest possibility into something of a factual reality, but where and when are furthermore key ingredients to our study beyond futility as some might foresee into the stars who and how the carrier motifs may collapse the puzzle pieces into place whether it be through gravity or magnetism though now aren’t yet another religious quality mistakenly given over as sacrament to the gods of Man’s science?… it only seems dark and empty at first, but once the birth pains are gone the wandering begins for either the post-human reality or towards the post-terrestrial reality that begs those science-fiction prophets to open up their visions to the public eyes blinking and awed by the mercies of the being who looks like a god, though through the stories shared that live and breathe in the minds of the reader there is hope as we launch into new frontiers as we are all words without turn or timing… the beauty of this format is in allowing the mind to speak its thoughts to then arrange these pieces of data into clutches of information that can relay more than appear through individual truths as insight into the grand substance of the unconscious whole, we give much to being told how life is supposed to work as we grow into mature beings in an environment laced with the insecure and susceptible fools alongside our civilized flaws and foibles made public through the all-seeing televised eye, but we take this tool for granted as well as the human potential in this techno age where might and magic remain beasts fluctuating in the abyss between the soul and the spirit as two of the many dimensions we muster the learning to navigate and pilot properly… waiting to coalesce destiny into thick slabs of actual creation when the willing participant forces collude and amalgamate into something more than any previous attempt has resulted in before to alter the certainty of reality without warning or signs, but a sign or signal is what we always seem to be after in this progressive time where common sense is supposed to naturally notice those things askew in order to correct the problems or so we have learned from our vague general education system implanted in the overall sublimation of humanity into narrowed ruts of prefabricated experience, the totalitarianism of the state and its oppression of its people is the argument that starts both in the halls of power as assigned by authorities that claim to care and the home of the family that labors in earnest to live without getting too caught up in the distracting qualities of assessing the situation… the struggle to survive the hustling which keeps this behemoth alive and killing its residents Here, resisting the act of omnipresence endorsed by a society that would prefer to shuttle those who cannot be controlled into their manufactured prisons to harness the energy each prisoner is capable of in their lifespan to generate much like the “horsepower” that works inside of an engine, but imagine it is a social engine that drains this life out of the living to sustain an incredulous and wasteful means of which to exist by affording the most splendid objects possible in order to promote oneself as the superior to all others as a champion or king might relish… each person searching for their own kingdom or to create their own palace as recognizable accomplishment to be seen and acknowledged as the best of all possible options to be attained by mortal Man, a trick in the illusion of being Here at all as the artifice stacks so high on all sides to us that we do not know what to do with it so we lose track of it in the grand scheme of the consumerist behavior that allows us to lose touch with that so natural life to be lived, but feeling stuck within a sense of everything in economy as trash only to be thrown away eventually in a culture previously without anything more than a mythic dichotomy of reuse built into it as acceptance of death and birth giving way to immortality…

Thanks, khet.