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dazed Immemorial.

limited space for the mind displayed, a hemorrhage in time displaced, but Here for the purpose of changing the ways we act and are felling about this ever-dropping ceiling above us… we purge as quickly as we binge to release that discouraging hateful clarity that tries to evoke disgust and mistrust, a harbinger of reckless and screaming repugnance that swallows the dreaming self with all its traits of vision, and still to be born attempts at the best odds of changing things as they are now… relieving the burden from the stoned immaculate while reliving the stored burden of the familial heritage from too many generations ago, forgetfulness of family affairs leads one into feeling orphaned by the isolation from lack of connection Here… a hateful clarity can come on strong through the misty memories of the everyday connection with reality, the negative mind slips in with a whole lot of talk on its breath, but never any real solutions or answers… just a perpetual emotional dripping through the sorrowful sinus, and down into the heart, to catch that pulsating thing off-guard in some way… we traipse along unaware even as we glance behind ourselves for a sign of something other than the strangers watching us, the hive mind hates what it cannot control, and the uniquely obsequious dally upon the periphery of sequenced reality as prison world… standing like guards on the horizon as they reach to mock the human condition Here, their mechanical infatuations leading the chase for new energies to eat, and consumption is more than a disease nowadays… we seem to fret over the perilous delights that others risk their lives to see, but we are hard pressed like the fermented grape to produce enough juice necessary to keep this train wreck going, drunk off our asses too late to perceive the accessible way out of this maze… the rails lead us one way and opinion leads us into another opening, but what we should trust is our hearts and minds as the interpreter of our own unique systems… to cut off a part of ourselves without regarding who might benefit from the pieces that we are leaving behind, this is horrible to witness, but the beasts in charge of this culture have kept us tied to the chair in order to make us submissive in the long run… the day off in this weird state of disgrace is not a fair trade for less pay these days, as the heat grows worse by the seconds ticking away, and trapped in a hoodoo series of obstacles to prevent safe passage to the unwary… the shadows hold more than empty within them, you are the shadow when you are dead, and thus need to make whole your own dreams of unique selective direction… the dystopia opens out into one’s soul hoping for glimmers of respect in the eyes of the many, while the cruel cycles twist the winds into directions that give no yield to human harmony, and the fragments of sanity that compel one to subdue the true self is really insanity under better management because the general disposition is that no one wants to look silly or stupid… we all praise a serious “god” to some extent, whether it is that we imagine ourselves as that artificial god or not is not a particular point of reference Here, but the lines are casually blurring between what we conceive as reality now and the proposed singularity inhabiting the future… will there even be a holiday left for us to keep a level of wholesome insanity Here to stay when the bodies drop into a virtual reality that mimics this one, seeing our conscious movements reflecting through the mirror this world provides to keep lessons intact from impact to the brain, but what is that ugly broken thing?… maybe its bat country…

Thanks, khet.