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…Sarcophageal…

…concealed beneath the surface gestures that lure us Here to our doomed awareness we are to die with some more tragically than others it would appear to be soft to feel so sensitive it hurts though our guilt is not inert as it moves with us as we turn corners opening sight of our shadows as they play against the light so bright it burns the psychic oven we’re inside fighting every time we try to manage our lives into a better order or series of smaller steps with which to motion ever closer to a place of complete satisfaction, the options for opinion have moved us wandered souls in a holding pattern waiting for a savior within a chaotic and sinister kill economy built from martyrs who volunteer for a cause proving loyalty and those who do not assessing their personal place as a role in that series of symptoms of a corrupted broken system slightly leaning can be lifted to a higher authority somehow blank of compassion for its generations of citizens and minions long-haired death hippies amid the barbarism prevalent in these strange days hazing our advisory visions for the future no matter how futile or feudal it seems to be, Here we are through the somewhere stuck between layers of thinkers and scholarly wisdom shipped around channels of worship to warships sailing further than dark waters summoning scary instances of reality meeting with myth as clash of titans these localized sentient beings at inevitable warfare with nature on defense at all times indirectly digesting all parts of the last civilizations left before we were ever already in defending ourselves to contradict pressures pushing us to evolve beyond the slightly crazy pathway through substance always trying to establish itself new absorbing and growing against tensions contrasting humanity… esoteric against practical or the more compelling scientific evidence that distributes knowledge fairly or so the intent happens to be Here as we combat the nature within ourselves attempting to reconcile bestial with human nature not verifying that primal terrain of the hearts whose emotional moods change and sways the textures we perceive or signals received as transceivers for the senses training us to be constantly adaptive and aware of textures so subtle and nuanced as to be nonexistent in some human perceptions of what really is there to begin with as much any glimpse of stability or static absolutes, we convince ourselves and others that we are just fine even though that drastically reduces our personal pains to minor detail left damaged by the mistaken calm of thinking we know what comes next without first ready to read deeper into the subtext of the savage elements within us projected outward used as emotional weaponry against those who might try to harm us body and soul as much any kind of psychological warfare unfairly utilized to manipulate those perceived enemies who should not achieve rights to any sovereign states even inside of ones mind classified as untouchable or less than others, swallowed by the flesh-eating stone and our own graveyard woes said out loud sometimes lamenting when nothing seems right or profoundly pleasant Here crying out for this to pass nursing the harm leaving scars behind until the wounds are healed physically at least so our mental and emotional faculties sorting out the journey the only impairment as it keeps going around us whether we choose to participate interpreting on miracles critical as false witness killing us by corruption in slow poisonous doses traveling systems once we imbibe energy using the same instinct to drink as the rest of humanity…

thanks, khet_:/