scienTypical
pretty sure no one reads my stuff least of all for the fun of it that a few in my audience might disagree with but does not change the feelings of isolation and misfortune that seems to be a strong pattern narrowing its band towards the heart i sometimes question i have even though this center of emotional self physically correlated to the muscular beast in our chests beating the safety measures in our genes desperately curious from the stories winsomely told with an asymmetrical repetition that is either going to drive us up the walls or can change our lives and minds so dramatically that we may repeal former laws to turn our favor toward a corporate consumer interest certainly not uniform yet enough to cross along the gaps in our systems with a relative ease because of all these creatures shoving to push us out of the way to get real horror show too fast as shock troops crawling over as cannon fodder that falls superior firepower when called for more frequently as the words used to start up the wars with vocal intention detonation intoning directly as a missile searching out a decent target like kind of anyone who might read my old constipated heresy expressing doubts wanting to devise a reason to move on top of a serious management to delete the taint and salvage whatever was lost, dropped for that final plunge to purge density grounded by an urgency of destiny as “higher” forms perhaps play havoc on our Now that will set a precedent motioned for later in laddering our climb upon the cretinous scales of the machine shiny all cogs and sprockets as another package better later than never where it could have gone out partially-delivered had there been no plans to maintain any outlines of sensible professional behaviors in which no one gets fucked over by anyone else the raw funk of desire oblivious to other realities yet captivated by a selfward facing set of facts and falsehoods which remain long after the ease by containing and it seems controlled by our inner sagas has been constrained to breaking down these habitual digestions of reflection as long as i can catch a glimpse of who this self was when last we had met as that fitful urge fighting any and all motion forward ignorant luring an argument baited with antagonistic though positive opposition sick in despair while the sense of living sheds its capability like a skin of a thick composition immaterial to sustain the saturation most abundant as it is appallingly left in the hands of authorities choosing a blind eye to see their shadowy profits shading the sunshine darker filtered blood sinking the deeper of us under pariah status moreso a messianic complex than humane treatment, and faced with confrontation from that emotional self unique to each of us we back far away ingrained within these ideas imprinted forcing choices as those powers born within us attempting to redeem qualities we might see leaving us as though deathbed regrets and other miscellaneous debris using the leverage of a soul against people who believe they have them as opposed to percepting almost mechanically the sequence of this human in its various states of being on a journey all share but few replicate as closely when perceiving nature as things to be managed prematurely attached at different levels by these toe tag trivialities shifting not mountains but men in self-righteous opinions becoming institutional social clotting as the monsters remake humanity in their own images looking forward to future condemned to relish in an unbiased account of the past trying as repeat to reestablish a root and anchor a force as to be served rather than misled or worshipped too far confused to see the light yet to be enlightened to know what has been a shard of dream staying just out of reach and questionable sight seen by only a few with an unerring gift to see reality for what it is and can be whether through wish or wayward actions that trigger this… feeling as a sense of the same feather may not be common but from interbreeding by ancestual spirits lodged in solipsistic subjective behaviors warping the vicarious energies drawn from any original religiosity that has yet to be burned away by the dire constraints containing a livelihood seeds dropped casual caustic happenstance crappening down as compost and soil the huManure textured to the specificity of nature’s aching a stability trying this reconstructive urgency excessive access abundant related to temporal ghosts sliding across the page planting deep dreams a creative shared cloud of dread sometimes too far overarching to see over fencing authoritarYan lies poisoning the well silent edifice blistering repents recompensate the state for the resources it has wasted upon our subtily acquiesing to whatever constitutes of existence at this point for each of us not to become puppets on strings strung along by mere theory to a strange individual realm or state of being separate from the whole of a WE as divisible invisible acting in the unseen stead of a god whose fad has widely spread to become spiritual authority even when others speak through his words as much the dead things they represented written down as implement sometimes ideological instrumemnt of torture squeezing the humanity out of all the others except for us like a juice, like a pious pus popped fresh from the flesh scarred and starved ready for freedom a ringing right between the ears hoping the mind with hear with some sign or significant reveal that will clarify and define what it is that has already been decided for us Here to observe and take notes making notes of wehat transpired through one uniforn view the rash of extreme heresy in heredity as a harness to hold us back from the frightening curtains as dire awareness still persecuted with fire used to manifest the odds as intrusive detail worked out in worship taken for granted ground down gears thrown down rabbit hole epostles guaranteeing us on safe passages sort of like dreamy memories inhabiting a place in many hierarchies of death next to idols and sacrifice to kindle worlds behind this into any reception they may have for us, but what have we got to lose when it is we who lose on all attention either way we decide to pronounce the word always a necessary quotation as unique equity for us all apart as much together seeking the world around us saved long enough for just the one who will crave it instead of those who do the despoiling dispatching…
Thanks, khet.
Posted by :\_khet on April 1st, 2017 in blogging, my art & dreams, rants & raves, subdued wisdom, t for Tocsin.... You can leave a response or trackback from your own site.