All The Wrong Topics dot com

log a rhythm…

seeking refuge in words to surging incongruence of this soul that halts all progressions forward when nothing else makes sense and the numbers aren’t adding up right trying to solve the greatest jigsaw pizzle the world has ever known as the bullshit is severed from those reasonable insights we are each capable of while Here attentive to the universal captivation televised and manipulated to seek riches in wealth and the faceless multitudes that such exploitations assault when the senseless lead the sensitive by a leash barbed and soaked in gasoline as the labor state continues to use populace to pulverize stones and collapsing new people into obscene gestures embittered and relentless in pursuit of some control to not be left behind in the wake of new ages like gravel lining the roads before becoming paved, it is this freedom of choice to jump into things we cannot understand while under the false impression that we know the truth instead of being the interpreters of this vague quality through our misadventures in time and space as the continuum keeps up this consistent grind of forward motion even as at periods it becomes a detriment to the people now influenced by such things, but industry pushes the gears assaulting one more meal worm of a human turd to be flushed outright at any given point when the house is full mooning over with no one ready to take the bets or cut a payment to hand out the dividends to those righteous winners determined to win at all costs whenever given the opportunity seeking out ideal proper compensation for it to appear as professional competence… dropped out and tuned in as waves of the conformist signals wash with a smashing motion against us all forcing us to bathe in it as some drown beneath ripples in this cesspool of resources sourced from natural regions where things remained unmolested by these whimsical human cheats whose supposed intellect has grown larger and overwhelming in turning shadow into facts that subdue and arrest the creative urges of a humanity as flowing folding sea of flesh, drawn toward attachment to leave pieces of ourselves and our dreams to explore further in whatever we leave behind as particles woven together occult at a fundamental microscopic level to which all things taken or given naturally go swimming through the ethers alone though inseparable from the Others out in a wilderness of ideas and honorable mentions as we choose our directions, or to allow a cause to push us into a corner where we are lost or losing the minds we have collected in so far because the automata that move us out prefer to lie in wait deceptive as the kung fu panda trying desperately to express terms that this civilization whatever it is exploits opportunity like a viral spread toasting the town and country with that serrated edge of conformity pressed against our heads as we try to understand how to moderate between the taint of the wicked and the exalted innovations surrounding us at all times whether true or not…

Thanks, khet.