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…Metaphortician…

…collecting together dead things not to burn or forget but preserve them as memories often traumatize those who choose not to remind themselves of the damage they have already done to themselves and others Here entrapping our bodies and minds through our rash random spasms of behavior to easily catch us off-guard in moments of weakness and separation from reality in many ways unaccountable or unfathomable with merely human minds conscious to certain levels of nuance yet spread between so many individuals that it is a difficult appealing to the better interests we might can are able to share equally, with each other and even total strangers beyond purely idealized social contracts given enough weight and seriousness to matter until it has no ability to get through to any of us once we are pushed by pressures to perform as human in some fashion that escapes us without inspiring motivation for those next vital steps forward whether into the unknown or not unknowing or unwilling to take a momentum to logical conclusions upon realizing this mortal coil extended only so far for each of us collectively and as individuals we must reckon with ourselves as much as any other person, figuring out to journey as we proceed on it capable of so much support on either side of the argument Here as it expends our energy and continued focus on topics that do not bring us joy instead pulling us through the muck and mire of mental wounds gaping crust of funk transferring sickness to those down with its lack of integrity or validating conditional situations re-calibrating our impulses of the ideal from the grotesque reality that impels our hands both in deception and in greed to want escape or quantified principle of freedom yet another king dumb to dominate… no silicon justice Here because this is our new plane of existence to remain faceless and truly anonymous to an extent yet still interact with the surroundings through digital analogs along the lines of this format infused with literary intensities analogous to the journey inward as much outward through destiny and density in their combined forces creating these bodies that shift and shimmy throughout timESPace incapable of sight through this shape as beyond it through cognitive linguistics our chance of getting into heads as parts and pieces of this mechanical puzzle which our existence implies for us if interpreted differently, somehow approaching the subjects and objects as conjoined primary implements that defy easy reasoning from lazy minds sometimes hiding a lack of understanding because psychological infancy can last far into an absolute series in phases of adulthood as rites of passage formulating aspects that are difficult to assume without the experience to achieve differing points of view throughout these frames that take space while alive in this specific realm allowing for understanding at all when those can be opposed to thinking that lead us now hoping for better results from a collective push to reorganize ourselves motivated by decisive action, because we have waited Here too long for the opportunities that are casually rubbed in our faces another wave to collapse into functioning for that us we wish to see make things better instead of worse driving this hearse in reverse to make sure we haven’t missed a moment yet to deliver its best in our time of need confessing distress to which it feels there is no end in sight enough to fear enjoyment or savoring the times we have are we not entitled to existing while having to suppurate suffering through feeling extremes compelled as sadness and hatred…

thanks, khet_:/