All The Wrong Topics dot com

the good Part.

this is critical, to seethe against the fashionable ironic fascist show that tries dearly to sway the masses into line… a burnt-out resistance from those with the oppositional defiance disorder in their pants… everyone wants it, to be touched and loved, but that isn’t always the case… the enchanting of my ranting is wearing thin for a few of us… everyone chooses not to admit to their hyper-criticism (hypocrisy) quipping and quoting rhapsodic in the casual erotic back and forth… libido taken for granted… our culture makes us rodent-like, scrambling into the dark whenever we have a thought that isn’t a standard, that sudden potential taken too far… what keeps one sane amidst all the wrong-doing?… our modern porno-graffiti subduing the good orgones gone bad, easily repressing or denying the lowest common denominator of human sexuality, but with no other reality than the expression of every feel good aspect there could ever have been like a pack of nerves raging to hard-on… there is no way to really capture and try to convince anyone that what you are doing has a purpose, especially among the fascist hordes breeding all around you, and following the popular chanting hymns by the people for the people for no other reason than a self-imposed pattern of stress and depression enough to make any real individual fear breaking down… the dark and lustful vampiric force that begin to subdue the youth from birth through the worrisome posturing of parental pretenses that only work through trial and error in the worst of ways, but being true to the self perturbs the real vultures who stalk amongst the naive virginal masses looking to feed somehow, the tendrils of thought insane and twisted through the heads of the weakened drones whose day jobs enforce themselves upon them… strange excitement kills off those who don’t need this world of brutality to move on into another plane of existence altogether, some are moving off this plane as we speak, but to be upon their wavelength is to know how to live beyond the stars without relying on a human vessel to access change… a few of us are distorted through the patterns of our birth, interwoven matrices that lay utterly apocryphal to onlookers from the outside angle, and trying to find a new potential adaptation to the human brain as the authorities use empirical data to ‘see’ the new frontiers that lie just inside the mind… the fucked and the nasty thoughts that distract and tie the living to the dead in a constant recycling of energies in order to succumb to that final solution where destruction is the key to the next stage, but who are we when we try eating the honeyed polite banter that makes us feel so good, the repetition of a spent and broken down in opposition to a very rigid and hostile high… the disgrace of love without emotion is strong in those that feel passionately to the contrary even as their world defies exception of decreed general law, terror on the divine issues of this modern excess have lead many on only a quest to procreate with abandon, and any and all partners attached are described as merely toys or pets a living objects in essence to an unintelligible necessity… a spontaneous combustion of human emotions whirling a sinister locomotive, insanity through the ulterior motion of oblivion and the tested minions of flesh thrown together to make too many same wondrous hybrids, and running that screaming outside life created by youth and the trials of error against the known experience of the universe… with each step we take the laws a step further, another piece of the puzzle revealed and taken advantage of for the “good” of hatred and greed, and doubt on the edge of the living fringe for humanity’s end… we are Here after all, aren’t we?…

Thanks, khet.