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pico de Goya.

this material meat of the mind interprets and finds my valid fascinations presently, all things i do are subject to its skewed idea of control, and everything has an equal influence on the outlook i share with the rest of you out in the unreal… as far as my perceptions are going, this is already a synthetic world to behold and be beholden to seen from many different perspectives all at once, but what i have locked inside my own head is just an inkling of the depravity distorted and remade on the outside reality of these thoughts… a sequence like any other pattern to be read or defined by whosoever sees these sad or mad things that have been pointedly perceived to be, a creature undernourished by a governing system run by the truly psychopathic among us, and of late this aspect of reality seems to make the most sense at a momentary fringe in life, the dream life takes over where the perception begins to need another direction altogether… the change of perspective we are all addicted to in some degree… you require your harvesters just as you require the seed planters to come and leave inspiration in their wake, something to grow on from to, but it is a constant growth that we cannot shy away from… that is our ‘modus operandi’ as human beings Here… to discover the undiscovered, to recover the lost and unfortunate details whether buried under earth sea or memory, and to uncover the truth at the utmost of times when everything seems perhaps too sweet and perfected into place… we are the revolt when the time comes… we are the in(s)ane when the time requires us to be certain of our position on the scale… are we merely Here to say that something is okay to ascribe to, or to harshly rebuke the person no matter what ties prevent that assessment from coming to light, we look to our idols and begin to question their integrity of lies that defines a generation to come next in meeting a challenge profound and with the potential of the enlightened bits hanging over the heads of the ungainly apparatus that is ‘human’, and wonder what it is that messages were meant to say to us?… we look to the dark humors of those great and lost thinkers of the previous ages past, and we become fascinated just as easily as we come to reject our perceptions of what is real, coming to distrust that which does not appear to follow any familiar order of our individualistic views… we look to a darker vision than the one that appears to us naturally because of our fears feel justified in preventing the making of things the way we want them to be, our souls seem to come from a source of darker material control that requires us to manifest anything beyond this tangible soul, and wishes us to know that all souls are in tandem with each other… the lessons learned by one soul is accessible to another soul, but always in regard to context and connotation of shared experience, one who does not understand the transfer of information or knowledge will not benefit from the will of another to seek understanding… we are all prevented from knowing another’s secrets through the glass walls of perception that are rendered as barriers by our own minds to protect/ repel everyone and their personal visions from intruding upon another’s, like a bag full of marbles where all these tiny universes are held and tension presses them all together making unique sounds of both violence and compromise inside the pitch black environment around us, but we are also in an age of rampant paranoia infested by the very people that make themselves leaders and their posses of power-hungry minions with the intent to horde as much wealth as they can Here…

Thanks, khet.