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Maneuver and Shaker

the drumming thunder echoes while the lightning scratches out a sky-bound slash across the heavens, storms effervescent to the heat and humidity that cripples the want to see an outside world because summer is upon us as we drive the demons from our souls, and the Muse sick is everywhere playing on the moods and tender mercies of the ones without a stomach for tolerance… grinding out the insufferable stink that convenience builds inside the human cavity that has allowed itself to be filled with filthy members from a gathered and corrupted plan of action proposed by one too many outside interests not really interested or caring about the sanctity of the human being, but more concerned with the worthless dollar as it tends to flow and spend itself and its system into oblivion using the greedy hands of the people to shift sand into stone and blame into shame, the vital progress we need to show us the way to a greater atonement for being these bastard children in the midst of divine creation we might consider ourselves to be lost and running from… unsure of the paranoia that makes everyone the potential suspect for crimes that haven’t yet happened, where does it come from that it would seem so spectral in floating high above us like the ever-watchful eye lurking in the atmosphere over our heads to forewarn the people that they can never escape from a perpetual feeling such as this, but are we to be true to ourselves as the individual or as the group mentality that eventually subsumes the personal reality that builds up to tense levels from this powerful dream worship defining us in the hopes of becoming ‘perfect’ used as a word with too much gravity to hold us to a standard that comes carved out of ancient bullshit… the patterns become what we cause to guide us, wanting puzzle pieces to fall exactly into place with each mystery solved as we have been made to believe that is required in order to maintain this existence, but where are our false idols now that they have become actual people like you or myself?… perhaps they wander around as celebrity hosts to experience and perceive the world in a godly stead standing in for the lack of empathy outside forces have for life in general, but what of these worlds we have inside of our heads that i seek but remain elusive as a certainty, my various creations have lives of their own whether i remain a master or enslaved to my creative passions trying to think my way out of the box i know to be not there except as an end game vision into the future… the coffin lined with soft satin for the showing unless i have had some violent execution where no one who cares would want to see the disfigurement in public, and it is in that case my work would posthumously have all the meaning and more that i have ever seen within it because then my particles would have dispersed into the social atmosphere, i write to soothe the ragged tectonic plates of my mind while the reality quaking potential moves on from where it last left droppings of something wild to say as mutants on the edge of description… we are those mutants of previous generations always on the quest for that something which suits us best as opposed to what we are forced to accept as the best of all possible outcomes, impressed upon us the ideas that we are uncertain until in that mighty career is found the way to contribute to society as a hole that keeps vacuuming up the debris as well as the great notions that change how everything works Here, but it is only up to us as we are ever-developing into a different creature altogether in this strange cosmic incubator that leaves us always questioning those curious things revealed behind the eyes as much as in front of them… we are the embodiment of change after birth then sets us aside for the next child of the future, all the holographic storage of what reality has been is within us, and it takes a whole lifetime to make something of that information that will carry… the sacrificial damned in the sense that people remain ignorant of their own free will because they have been led to believe that everyone else is a guilty party of whose loud offensive noises are defiling the rest of the sleeping Americans dreaming of a better future for all, when the actuality happens to be reversed in the dark mirror of humanity’s hive mind acting instinctually with a keen reason for survivalist tactics as they work inside of a system filled with corrupt selfish jerks, and well-versed in the practical skills it takes one to get wherever they wish while psychology has opened doorways to the more demoniacal monsters aware that timing is of the essence in a world where magic becomes a relative science that boils down to profits for these emboldened masters of the material world justifying abuse with shallow lies dusted over the corpses in the field while the people look further into the fascist illusion… the pretend games of objective thought whisper seductively…

Thanks khet.