All The Wrong Topics dot com

Amused and Mental…

the laughing strikes most of us indifferently than at first we would choose to be honest with revealing to the others as though the starving of the artist were for an identifiable element of beauty sacrificed for a utopia in the world of Man as the faces of dread “saints” stare at us if for our holy wrong-doing Here, perceived as the scapegoat taken for granted by the office of authority in its wicked summation of what is kind or good or worthy of respect in the world as agreed upon only by their small councils of the imprudent men believing themselves particularly worthy to uphold a vision that is not their decision, but somehow the debauched is kept at bay with its tempting fruits of both labors and loves lost and found in any of the days which you may be blessed to live as the trigger-happy spliff between the lips begins to slip we dive into the fray to beat back the wild demimonde made up so literally of the dying and decadent bourgeoisie stuck in their one-percent heads as they face immanentization of the eschaton in their very living rooms frozen dead… perhaps a suspension for all the wrong-doings that secretly turned a sweet profit while billions of people’s lives were shed like some daily skin cells in a bed somewhere anywhere, the people hiding a reality which makes them all masterful interpreters of their own future, but living within the age where the fashions and reflected echoes of art had been the money trench we label easily as mainstream for the judgmental little fishes that swim there so long have invaded our tastes as a whole for society to go fuck itself… this beast is still yet a lithe beauty that cannot regret the actions of the human animal placed in captivity, the cycle of rebellion yelling out loud starts Here in all its mad micro-destinations, but is there any other natural instinct that could be pushing for escape into any odd freedom that this human can acknowledge as truth?… truth is such a subjective quality that anyone can ascribe to this or that deity or diatribe of disputatious origin there to succumb to the balancing acts as they are projected out into the substance of the real to take shape and function from the ideas inside of our heads today, we know not what ripples re-calibrate the rest of this societal shitstorm as it just keeps going whether preferring the display from our actions, or finding ourselves wishing for indifferent and passive views out of the windows of a moving car while a radio chatters on with the music or whatever is out there on the waves cutting through to the nervous cell receptive deep in the nucleus stacked one upon the other in this humanoid shape that strode right out from a moving picture that saturates the film with creative urges… a splodge that lodes the mental landscape with an asphalt replica of the matter caught behind the unspoken glass wall that is between reality and fantasy, and some fantasies get darker the further one would choose to go down the rabbit hole where the dark matter lives out its own existence in imitation of the land of living things through artificial means that rebuild and finish with power as both predictable and intimidating, though not every being is exactly the same as pieces intermingle among the pawns in action of other plots yet unknown to the rest of these game players in their fixated states united by the defense of their own private spaced escapes from reality’s sting… the actors’ glance to the audience reaffirms their existence just as the same would apply the either way around for the ‘peanut gallery’ audience stuck behind a mask of observation decked out in their finest threads that make no real sense except in the most archaic ways that distract away from the actuality that manifests as unmistaken reality present in every single being in the out there that ever was including myself, but i digress as we are never so limited to the roles that are inflicted upon us in annoying judgments and ignorant calls for explanation when the act is art defining itself, the parameters of the human mind are far too deep to be a simple exploration for anyone else to just automatically “get” as though understanding were simple to obtain as utilitarian tool for the mind… this, however, takes a real time experience to create…

Thanks, khet.