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…cruciveldt nemestitial Phenomenumb…

…sinus full of marching powder laborious boots in the field gripping tools necessary for being paid enough to live Here yet nothing is guaranteed as nothing is eternal void tunnel of potential through which all things seem to proceed collecting points of information in the progress of the process as nature begins digesting us almost immediately though we must push this out of our minds in order to work effective more efficiently for overall output being steady if not surpassing our previously recorded achievements committed to the valuation of existence somehow horribly disappointed by the efforts of others lazily half-interested, paranoid territorial pissings when we have nothing to look forward to except starting ourselves on fire somehow between friend and enemy we allow to getting close enough to touch us bright enough to burn those who aren’t blinded by the wish to do us harm while those without the eyes to see become humbled mutants seeking refuge in lies as long as is useful to command those in the crucial fields ready to take orders and do what needs to be done without ever once though reflecting upon speculated repercussions of said actions shifted from average human into living robot, shoddy series of calculated efforts become substantial glitches in the systems and institutions in place Here as time passes and we get distracted by other problems whose solution too we may never find biding space as we wait for answers that might be true until tested against reality competitive curiosity jolts the biology with chemicals sensitive secrets forgotten amidst compromising arguments leading nowhere fast catching the interest that attention paid from even briefly enough to get caught up into drama others have begun too quick to chamber hostile commentary into our mouths however the brain can jab at wits speed… spastic half-wits as insecurity and nervousness lock in to the target provoking worry from deep within as though pushed too far but really halfway up the path before flinching and running back home safe the journey unfinished shields of forethought do nothing to protect oneself while the brittle chaos writhes in each layer of mood nature creates in this current atmosphere of swirling fears rearing ugly heads of children to look into the sun that blinds and burns as it crosses our paths every day emitting blood sweat and tears fighting to stay awake within worlds wanting us to sleep, the order of death dictates we not die until chosen as this is what you want and this is what you get and especially chosen at some point to die as the negative self reaches the positive self in singularity meet on our side Here creating that brilliant flash of ideas as one spark is snuffed out leaving only echoes to travel through the cosmos as frequencies reflected between receivers as long as can some old stray memories still exist emitting faint signals to recycle the energy when it becomes relevant again if at all sometimes set one dimension away, sorting out the various archetypes from the stereotypes some more useful than others when attempting adaptation yet trying to retain some personal character enough to be allowed longer time frames to react and pursue passionate interests one feels drawn toward combating lingering self-doubt to pressure accomplishment in whatever is desired using choices to define us with forever words twisted squeezing the buffer which exists between people whether tensions rise or fall breaking us into more comfortable feelings of ease instead of being ravaged by the sickness of awkwardly attempting to fit in with others who couldn’t care less about you…

thanks, khet_:/