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…bewilder me This, wild art of fact…

…the periphery lies quiet silent before the sudden cardinal percolation as the dead do not sit with ease upon the internal flames created by that spark of inspirations gone so vulgar so as not to be spoken by those constrained by their perceptions of standard standing solid against those banishing gusts as guilt replaces fear building some courage up from the grounded floor for sleepwalking sake through fatal reflex memory as mind trick cast out onto that busted loose cut of your jib jiving heckle the other turkeys as birds of a feather flightless flock dithering cookie-cutter fates a domesticated ego states into dissolving or digesting itself among eager winnowing currents of Art as fact of reality incorporated paths as markers for the fluctuating humanity gliding imperceptibly as the linear-masked notion we always view from a front within buttressed thematic biases soon conformed by imprints from an overtly occulted portion of youth as going too far passed through us all at once accepted not resisted because yes resistance is futile if its nature is feudal when relying upon those who remain frugal in view medieval from historical face-value melted down to erase and reuse wealth for the material super-fiscal used to shape the next cultures through a currency of fiat flatly a substitute of institutional authority, but our scholars don’t know so thoroughly about that everything which lurches all around us whatever it is that becomes us and them though unable to directly intersect at the point of the dimensional wavelength or bandwidth they would exist upon observing with the cold analysis paralysis isolating their being beyond our abstracted concepts of good and evil even though otherwise we all share this cosmic substance as the ozone and orgone are moving as though collision were inevitable though this too is a falseness as the illusion protects itself through these mightier minions which push us and pull to suffer differing directions while feeling forked and prodded into some natural inferno of digestion, whether or not actual flames kiss and lick the bodies melting it can be the potent caustic acids of a stomach when nature and the unknown universe work the synchronous tandem that no amount of decisive deprivation separates from a whirled dervish of vastness no localized mind can condense down to barest elements alone… what can a creature such as this fortuitous narrator mutating through phases of phrasing without much consistency to bridge the gaps that convey this information to you from me what do you see when this voice chimes in with every word read, possibly a picture describing the indescribable of biblical proportions though no legend from which to guide yourself to these words maybe if you had met me we could know this for fact and not sabotage or camouflage the truth with misconception and mythic exaggeration laying a heavy hand on our heads as children and into our minds as adulterated products of a society the localized individual does not wholly speak for while pathological liars still waiting as the ambush predator in its particular lair watching for flickering figures passing through the light at the cave’s entrance, a tunnel for none to pass through the same again as layers deliver condensed messages from generational predecessors and proto-ancestor alike finding space in our strands of genetic material to lay claim on future aspects of the same crude spinning wheel cycling on phased to stun the others as they surpass or are passed with seasonal diurnal scales changing everything no matter how inevitable things might seem now with all educated guesses aside we experience what this is…

Thanks, khet_:/