manifesting the right dealer.
who needs who? that is what i wish to answer, the question with value manipulation in its thresholds, and an intense dislike for atrophy in the senses. a stiff decline is what follows the wavering steps toward nothing but sorrow’s friend. the snow blows and the fire burns the sharp acrid scent of vicious poison down the way. path of others to walk one day, but fear was not the answer to the question as yet. the opportunity of worth became an issue only when the tempt of gracious displays were the fanciful fad in pace. certainly no brand name can make me move my hopes and dreams upon its magical fix that i require. the pills and the aids that are available to the various patients of diseased and dying realms of existing still. the homes lurking with the abused and abandoned forces of sage experience. the monitor has become clouded by the viewer’s eyes. Here comes your Man with the rocks in His eyes. i can hope for only subtle sustenance for yielding prayers. the throat of the beast makes me think of fate first, and then on to sedation. slowing the senses, shifting controls. the nomads take their united front against the waves of tempting tales to tell. the Man takes your money without hesitation. disjointed shatters of word collapsing and condensing the details immaculate. the cage of the inner demon lies bare. the beast finds the sustenance where it can. the water like blood there. pits and pools, from lips and throats it drools, and drips as jewels. where is that trust that yields a true friendship? a collapsible tent in the middle of emotional storms that brood and rage as veteran maelstroms sent to punish the fit of politeness. a difficult demand to stay pleasant through the thick, and of the thinnest times, the reliable habits to maintain the facade in hopes of becoming part of the gyrating swirl that is primal pulsing rhythm when under the sway of the misunderstood mentality. too much weight on the safety net while doing the dance macabre in the middle of the dark. prayers that no part of the tapestry fails to hold. if it does not hold back a few of our innate repulsions, to mix with the mass mentality, then we are left bankrupt of some truer balance. the cycle can be a bartered prophecy, hand and mouth, and taken to the next existence as the hidden lesson from this place. nature means nothing when the cards can be shuffled around at any moment. the evocation goes from thoughts to words, and from this manifests the magical brew that would seek out the necessary energies. the grace of gods disgraced us long ago, waving our egos around under authority of some god of ritual, and meeting the needs of that undefined group of subversive thinkers. the changing waves of the days as they pass by us each in their unique turn. we are shaped by the desire to seek our sympathetic urge-kill, something primal to overtake us, and our vague perspectives must need to adapt to remain worthwhile utilities. focus seems to require responsibility, and that urge seems to have ritualized itself into iniquity. the time it takes to commit to any true action becomes a labor in and of itself, but yet we speed further forward and ahead through the darkness. no one to guide or treat with fairness, the pride for male lions that escape their real responsibility in a hollow era, passing the blame like every other person choosing to place themselves outside of the total paradigm of fear, and mothers taking the whole position of parent while the other side goes other ways of correction. With selfish displays of affection and guilt attached to the extremes of those terms. casualties of the barter system that becomes an ordered ritual between parties involved. Back to the items at hand, though, the rational mind escapes every now and then. the right deal has to be in a well-lit area, and highly-peopled, to present more of a bluffing posture. Quick and painless and with reasonable graceful maneuvering when the hand-off begins. the drug had better be worth the trip, or the deal is not worthy of the trouble in weighing the options, a vehicle will help a transaction proceed sooner. the deal should usually come together rather smoothly, but not every other lesson can precede into what occurs in the here and now. You have to think on your feet during impossible amounts of stress and anxiety, but in some instances cannot be as oversimplified as easy as that might seem. Combined with other elements of influence, the easiest answers don’t make up for solid evidence, but a dealer’s performance must be light on their feet. a mental clarity of focus that allows for an almost instinctual and predatory vision. Peripherals are more or less grounded into the ready range of sight. always on the lookout for Jack the Hooker, and his evil minions sometimes if word gets around, this is not as sure a footing as you might think for our friend, the Man. to be ready, you must be hopped-up on something rude, or you won’t win ‘friendliest asshole on the block’ award. It is unfair to confront another ripped lad without at first adapting to one’s presence around them, and unlocking alcohol cabinets just to get to their contents for sweet relief. the display of relief should be apparent, the Man is not to be let down, and the strain of trying to maintain a personal relationship gets complicated. the exchange is a business venture in the guise of social call, but there is only the most moderate of attention to one another’s feelings sometimes, which can be taken the wrong way without precautionary tactics. the best of those stop by for house calls, but again, a vehicle is well-emphasized for ease of mobility. that is why easy access needs to be the buyer’s responsibility. the Man was crawling along the floor, gently rubbing his belly along the dust, and sweeping that lengthy lizard tongue around the feet of sweaty passers-by. ‘Who is this Man?’ I ask. ‘The marijuana messiah’ the crowd shouts back.
Posted by flux-you-in-the-teeth on February 15th, 2009 in critical concepts, story archives. You can leave a response or trackback from your own site.