All The Wrong Topics dot com

…matte Adore…

…words can only display subtle clues about the reservations we hold dear to us personally if these interwebs is truly dead from the standpoint of the observer perhaps we can electromagnetically pulse together to create some form of harmony finally trying our damnedest to predicate senses of interest invested by willing participants Here as thoughts thinking their way through all that humanity chooses to rear to counteract the spatter patterns of living leaving us all shocked out of our certainty without substitute connections to replace those exhausted ends befitting those meanest of us searching out meaning from the depths ingested, tentative steps leaning into something different necessary to change the pace of this racing adventure tracing calls to respond to a mob mentality gone from body politic presenting problems without engaging or preparing those in the audience there to witness the pass or fail of this generation until it comes to another prefixed demise shattering all previous expectation keeping score Here shifting rules with roles so casually as to cause a casualty of the public drooling crude fixture misinforming through suspects of cheapened stereotyposquatting as it plays out in this digital age prematurely redactulating before drifting back beneath thick skin, ivory tower even high enough to see money murder everybody except those with enough of a something to receive the honor of a forewarning or fair treatment after being flung into the pit obsessed with the horrid details as they encapsulate the universal terror into randomized sound bits whose echoes constantly bounce off the walls to conflict and contradict one another against each other further making this chaos recycling constants perceived to generate sequences without immediate remedy too frequently that it leaves its own scars floating in the Out There as unseen whip of ether snapping inside of our minds… triggering hideous effects on the general populace handicapping our urge for flinging affairs of a serene nature that we idealized so much because it is a territory outside the human heart where external forces push and tug us around until we are too raggedy to play with any more with tradition dictating what state we default to when it comes time beyond merely reflections that cast a different light upon our faces as the shadows dropped lengthen define our consistent frequency of aging unilaterally in this vessel gliding unguided toward an unknown as vast and vague as those shadowy appearances, flat no gloss image lifted to an atomic finish so difficult to compromise with instinct still in cold single mainframe models poised for conquering the world though not a nemesis established by conflicts already Here but manufactured by the fabricating hands of humanity pressuring mutations into the immediate as challenges amidst the cannibal communities that hinge on social integrity and cohesion which does not fulfill some dangerous self destructive prophecy among the zealots that play their cruel games in order to center things around their beliefs in order to betray and exploit those deeper natural connections had by others Here, before we even showed up with wrench rendering moot points in shadow monkey saboteur gestures and screams to intimidate and initiate all the other fools as any flippant bedazzled bullfighters haranguing their thoroughbred animals with physically smarmy and offensive red capes and swords meaning to kill in the infamy ritual of grotesque proportions dealt out among the spectators as adrenaline rush deemed as worthwhile sport and pastime considered relevant to this day relative analogously to how our minds force our bodies into conforming with the rest of that proliferating horde destroying as much employing those appropriated aspects to convince individuals…

thanks, khet_:/