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Learning the curve.

questions, and plenty of lack for a forethought to boot, coinciding with the atrocious lack of quality in my writing… there are miseries to endure that will seem like forever while deep within them, but even those abhorrent times subside with the invention of different ways of looking at things… the mood of a lazing hack as they invite the channels to change the ways of think… a stinking mess that i gave you at first glance, but there was always more than that there, you see… fingering the framing and feeling the freakish demeanor, wondering why it takes so long for the flow back of positive energies takes to work, but then i realize that it gets far more difficult entering into situations with a negative attitude… the friends true being few and far between, too much to even feel to worry, but only as i tear apart my past with blocked out bits of dark back drop-off… the backyard of the supervoid is endless, and abyssal to the point of timelessness, and the gravity is too ephemeral to witness with a naked eye… a lazy, crazy weightlessness to behold as the soul floats above the body in a primal state of sleepy dreamers’ haze, a communing with necessary ancestor spirits in nights spent wandering and reliving trails and maps of the subconscious… interwoven and interlocked with the eternal and ever-spiraling spacial distortion, we dance with every single particle in our forced appearance Here, and yet we still find ways to undermine the solutions so easily applied to our woes… the grasp of curing fails us, and we are still finding ways to injure and kill the members of our own precious species, disposing of innovation at every turn as the ways anchor themselves slowly along linear ticking sounds somewhere… bumping into things again, with the ill discrepancy to stay awake and drive myself home at the same time, and the questions that arise from the inflamed wedges of guilt i have hammered into myself… the soulless armor of amore that i have equipped to protect that unyielding lust, but the love is not the only thing that requires an intuition for truth, the organ of sensory perceptions we are all born with… sometimes i wish the emotions didn’t ride so close to the surface, just layers of the holographic barriers we project from ourselves, the core being sheds to expire with the goals of experiencing like all the rest of humanity… what does the spirit crave?… that subtle motion still at work within all of us, united but truly apart, always the miracle makes the most of our methods no matter how mad they might be…what the shitsplit, yo?…

Thanks, khet.