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the Immaculate Perception

the warping wound crawls stigmatically open through and through whether true or false makes no difference Here any more than the tricks of the trade to which we have made business practices become corrupt by human error interpreted by this machine that the system was originally idealized to redesign civilization as defined in and by the prehistoric world cultures and religions for centuries before they were even counted as centuries, and contrasting against the assortment of these parts of predefined perfection sold to us as panacea made woebegone in withering those overzealous to dust, growing up from the resistance to an acceptance for what it is that begins to thwart the insistence urge to a forward-thinking decision attempting to manage what gristle we are left to our disposal as shards left in the gutter as the glimpses reflected… cosmic motion affects us all whether we know it, like it, or want to understand it or not with its confusing rounds of arresting material made privy to us in our distinctive ignorance that condemns and repeals those thoughts instilled as law to be projected at those further removed but close enough to wing some spit into the face reacting as the trusted gag reflex of disgust replayed for our tastes… as the beasts prove fatality to be the name of their game closely lingering on the killing will manifested by these beings’ doing of violent preoccupations without so much as an equal measure given to the qualities of any newly revised human models of this dispirited version of our past created as the road before us each perceived step it seems to leap drastically away from these disastrous desires as a concentrated conscience bears the burden recalled of now as discipline, the magician’s wand as fisted phallic symbol waving ‘abracadabra’ all over those magical things creating offshoots with some unique signature partially aware of the service for which they are conceived as to the burden of waste placed upon the rest of a wasted negative age washed away by corrosive behaviors surging forward into the darkness to try understanding why it is there to begin with, but soon even these ideal goals are to be cast aside in the cold and brilliant analytic lights as senses trying to facilitate the archaic dialogue as it lopes around dragging knuckles as it divides and conquers with altogether savage sounds perfected and caught in that bitter trap called ‘the heat of the moment’… driving the sanity to maddening fury, empty frenzy…

Thanks, khet.