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twisting, turning, through the Nevus…

the ever-flowing gap of data adrift within the threads of a web that becomes digital holding up fingers to make sure that we are actively conscious of this as the events coalesce around the same gifted mockery that we make our own that equates to a life made of transition even though not always as filled of torments for the most privileged who still are known to use and abuse such “curses” to their advantage while there are many ways seeking to force this a structure back as upright to reinforce that terse reach of ancient puppeteers now a mythic legend considered dead and forgotten, but the energy never stops shaping itself as friction mounts us for yet another ride a dead cycle breaking loose of the ultraquiot where in which the silent rebellion dwells if there are such things like monsters we have dismissed into the shadows and then regrettably forget about a condemned amalgam of nightmares refused substance by an overwhelming consensus between few actual hands as deep in the power struggle as it is played to be while trying to contain damages done, and manage to control the reaction to these movements as they occur then we are eventually coerced into becoming a part of the dreaming we left when we became living gods caught up in a fraud of sorts as the pieces we contribute flow back in to spread the myth further of who we were during in those days and nights sent scurrying and questioning why we ever bought into these dispositions leaving some of us in fear for these short lives given as timeless qualities uniting us genetically as much as frenetically in set perceptions not always our own… needs of a reappropriation in terms always occurs when the newer seeds grow on into viable fruition of human intuition to transmit that consciousness an electric flowing through our very core cosmic selves consistently producing the patterns we consider as these people becoming this progress moving collectively through the ages mass-producing like a shedding of skins to demarcate the next phases of development before returning to the dreaming record a tapestry to which death and life ebbs and flows like glacial drips up and down turning from many river into an ocean the states of being are thickly complex and yet as simply layered one over the other as those same interwoven threads as weft and warp creating the patterns or matrix as it has been worded when we live in a system of such tensions and tolerances woven together to maintain this as a substance and these structures of some kind in a neutral periphery, and which it seems as imposing as it is empirical in a motion of tracing back on through the disparate parts of this civilized messy antic surging that empowers our words it seems when we are using to dismiss in others the ability to project out our perception or it is within these vessels as devotees in a devious mode of movement we allow to rule over our small sequences of decision purely as original a sinful indulgence this ideal concept of greater good?…

Thanks, khet.