Separation of germs and hate.

the daft ‘Merikan dream blown to hell and back on its knees with all those conspiracies in the wake of its controversial turn, but the politicians in demand are slow to rise to the occasion but for the occasional donation fitting well-placed into their hands, to change policy for the good of the benefit of the few with the largest pockets which could include some of the most hideous swine indeed… out in the open to party in the darkest tease of the horrid want for the deified corrupt dollar bill backed by offensive action and mission statement word parades, and then BAM!, the planes hit and the loss of innocent lives is totally undermined by all that caught subversive motion in web woven behind-the-scenes of what really would happen any day… we are living in a hell under way, not one exposed by conscious decision even at every turn was so consciously applied by the liars on either side of the affairs struggling with their confusion of glaring eyes and dares disguised as mainlined hard-to-define row of words supplied by your narrator, and it is my mind’s eye struggling against the lair of the dreadful and unaware brutal minds as they enter without careful consideration of where they tread so light and fair… with caution proceed, but do not lose your balance to your disease, keep your center as you have no need in using overly righteous conjunctions or confusing preconceived of judgments Here… the bliss of the mind is that it can retreat into the deep to imagine a place to keep the cycle of sanity decompressed to levels of the sane, states of settled back into the rhythm of the defecation upon the steep actuality in the whim of freedom we seem to hold for granted against a mettle wall of volume and villainous pillaging, but where do the defeats of warriors battle-deaf retain even this remote microscopic dream as even these dreams live twist flesh into being somewhere in its own lifespan as this thing constantly changing state… a bleak atmosphere moves most mortal men to writhe and wither as the flower might grow and bloom, in charming daylight first then strangely to die as night falls gently in simple fading blight flies across the sky, but no burning phantoms need take control of the heart where the animal gives up its freedom of choice in order to stop the ride in giving their children of the grave a chance to live… the cycling wheels burgeoning visceral truths that need for objects that people abuse like polite swine under duress, watching while the lights are lit by crudely human means that end when darkness eats the light like suddenly forgotten fools left threateningly silent as harbingers of the new dark side, and fingered as the figure in villainous extremes moving in shadows of a settled display piece reeling in chaos…. in the flesh, chaos!… remade into a visceral devilish pop culture reference then manifest as destined by the cash lords to be able to replay again and again, and the proud are sent to lead the disposable into death itself as a mass grave gapes wide open to swallow the whole sacrificial soul deformed to take it all inside… in fashion with dangerous takes capable by mankind in god’s image dared bring fire from its angelic and angular highs to lead woe, the mutant of our warped emotional needs from a darkened creative center still useful in reproducing itself within the stem cells of any sacrificial lamb as poisoned by the religiously-centered carcass urging to take being into breaking down the limits of humble beginning, but few real Mysteries last up to this point anymore without resurrecting some ancient call… dancing flesh trophies laughing and making disasters and plans for the future to change the route again to which we have all taken the time to become accustomed, this physical fetish attached to this living thing we make sense of through experience as we take our blind steps forward, but where is this trip to which we are its guests and slaves on the way toward what is now that force moving objects blindly… for now the obnoxious have their own way, among the blossoming flowers of evil growing bright in the ruin and decay spread through their raw viral touching thoughts haunting, and mental locker as now becomes a tomb holding memories distanced these thoughts of permanence…

Thanks, khet.

Posted by :\_khet on September 11th, 2011 in blogging, personal afflictions, rants & raves, s for Semon..., subdued wisdom, world at large. You can leave a response or trackback from your own site.

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