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Mutiny by braindeath.

full throttle jump of the gun as the shot rings out, and no one around to hear it, the dismantled corruption requires the indifferent and the ignorant to move this earth in a cyclical fashion that keeps gravity pressing down on us… this moral agony in pins and needles as we try to wake the sleeping dead thing which lay inside of us individually, we take the short road to truth so often to cut-off the full experience that requires our pain to absolve the dark aspects to our long avoided confrontation of conscience, and it is this voice that rings between our ears spurring us to live Here while the manifestations of everything flit about from the imagination to the real time reference to a solid body of work… the art of leaving the right things behind… a jubilation that cannot be stopped by government nor corporation because they are the dinosaurs now lurking around Here for the comet of information to strike so devastatingly upon their rancid consciousness of the beast, composite entities that equate to mythical creatures like homunculi and hydras fighting epic battles over the souls of the consumer culture we see today, but the people will not be shattered apart so easily with the verite of instinct clashing against a common sense intuition that helps conscious humanity strive for the betterment of things… we are the forgivers and yet we also judge like no other species with our will to live and recollection of higher things to be yet made, righteous ergo to be heard properly whenever we spout of the mind’s eye like a crucial piece of the puzzling behavior made sound into revolution as discretionary tactic attacking the simple presence of words, but involving more than just turds in the toilet bowl to be sure of reality through excretion urge… don’t forget, what you see is what you get, and sometimes not even then because of how fucked our system truly is by now… the discretion seems too much to tolerate, a judgment call too damn wicked to retrieve from the dark hallow halls of power without the proper resolve of brown on the tip of your nose, and the idiot madness that comes with working the different angle into your dragging ethic of focus and limitless possibility… the culture will try its damnedest to rub your nose in the filthy mess we all have contributed to in order to make you think that only one person could ever be responsible for the disasters intermittent throughout the state of our present world, but these are all lies and propaganda fed through a machine that filters the motivation into many various forms that find their hooks in our subconscious awareness, the advertising and the marketing tactics are too close to the surface of manipulated reality… we are all demographics for destruction in someone’s eyes, and the words used don’t count to the ones not paying attention to the coals of concentrated obscurity we might be manufacturing into diamonds through shear power of will, their statistics do not factor in the strange multitude of human aspects that bring about the next innovative glances to the surface of this concrete place in front of our eyes… the crude managing skills lacking human equivalent to regard the truth in human interaction, but not rely solely upon the gravity of the human animal’s hive mind mentality, the oily influence of those who find themselves in a position to use and abuse the system that has been imbued with has been a running theme for far too long to take back the years any more… as the compression to ween out the “lessors” becomes the involved exercise in active evolution of the species, to advance beyond our years, and herald into this new version millennium…

Thanks, khet.