All The Wrong Topics dot com

scrotingler’s shat.

is it dead or alive?… only the shadow knows where these humans go when they get cast down in chutes as ladders to pollute the future through human consumptions more than just hunger or diseases when it is needed or called for by the wrong people in the right seats of power planting suggestions for all in a social group to hear the news that the ache of fear will go away soon though we do little more than assume and presume to assert this as truth when being sold on virtue, we lie to each other so profusely that it has become a commonplace acknowledging who we are both an individual inasmuch being a part of a fringe told what to do without pondering or putting together pieces difficult to decipher as existence is the greatest of any puzzles we currently have access to as dreaming wanderers seeking to assess values in truth that requires visceral proof for the empirical labyrinth built by the rigors of humanity as curiosity a vessel to explore and conquer this material plane that some say is a floating too far out of control that can and does happen when speculating yet nothing shows to reveal what stays and what goes away, and then to be reabsorbed into the greater mass as another supernova fades into the visual sense of history twisting logic and reason out of season with the rest of this a cosmolytic converter exchanging our spatial awareness for a spiritual gravity that holds us to our words and the screaming that commands the attention of more than just us i’m sure though not certain as the curtain curtails our view of an odd universe like ours to precise angles that hang this limp in our faces with the smell of feces in the err… can it waft any higher where our proposed educational system sits splendid in it’s puffed-up overbearing as a state of distilled scholarly wisdom opened like a map to our culture viewing through the lens of a false cartography acting as witness to the asymmetry that is constant as much as it varies without end when we tend to say things supposing to be looked upon as a superior comparison to the content delivered, a whim saved instead of surrendered to flow with the rest of the flotsam and jetsam as some currency of breezy debris trivial yet holy to those so devoted to a cause like this randomness as used in a cure that kills whosoever loses their freedom of choice trying to exploit those options open to them gifted to see and hear the future as it creates itself from out of nothing and nowhere but Here a moving energy flexes and tugs through the whole picture, but truth is shadow from which we cannot turn away only to confront and submit to a complete followthrough that drags us from pain to joy and back again as this substance permits these actions pushing our boundaries past belief and on into certainty as of an impetus of the general rule that envelopes all of us together overwhelming that sense of speed past the velocity of sensibility as has teased us…

Thanks, khet.