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in defense of the morons…

and so I am sick of it all…the filth has humanized me into distress, but beyond that, the tears are gray…pallid marks in self-pity, and where the form ends, the microcosmic conundrum displays a fresh rendering for the viewers approach…abstracted inane, the pain of brain, thought permeated…the marked are the bearers of a cavalier attitude, the banners wave in flippant parade, and yet the question of pride comes into play perhaps…the thoughtless repose for the blank generation around us…the slate cleaned to help subdue an anatomy of rebellion…we yield for no entity that doesn’t look something vaguely familiar to us…therefore, it must replay against a field of natural surroundings again and again until the lesson is universally learned there…the first level of learning by trial and err is the serious frustration that lies just under the surface, early perfectionists have narrowed this into a particular feeling within those self-aware, and manifesting as autonomous acceptance of balance…the creature, at a thought’s notice, becomes clearly aware of the retarded common denominator inherent inside these dichotomous situations…in those self-aware and in control, the exterior may react to the particular moment with an air of jest, and this is subconscious chaos magick…to make light of the utterly dreadful is the first step to making stupidity valid…through an unquestionably superstitious route in figuring out the answers to such mayhem…it is the only thing that makes sense in this miasma before realization…those very much not self-aware, are stuck in this lower level loop of intense energy, and step one would be the furnace for the other step moving beyond this foolish hell we are all lost inside…