All The Wrong Topics dot com

hail $atan.

we all participate in these social experiments, whether we want it or not, but who says that there is no reset for this raging animosity when we try to make things better?… the futile and the hopeless moods that swing into frame, the perspective becomes hard and blank as we reject the others around us, and we think their laughter is directed at us… though in these cryptic group atmospheres, the communications reach fever pitch as the discrepancies lurk all over the place, but most of all those dark captive beatings that take place between the ears… we scrape valid parts of ourselves away to try being less square, always in concern of looking foolish even when that fool carries with them the next new idea, and only to leave the peg to get hammered into the hole… we cringe when our name gets called, the worst things lying in wait to fuck us over in subtle degrees, but the mad mirth takes with it the fears and negative impulse that always carry us over the edge… it gets even murkier when staring into the face of a person you distrust, having their own capacity for oblivious mistake like everyone else Here, and it breeds a complex network of slack and compensation when you have billions and billions of people encapsulated in the glassy bubble of a water bead in a hydrophobic position standing out from the cosmic span… the multitudes are disgruntled in their own special ways, retarded by the dollar bill that has usurped the role of marker into becoming symbolic as total masses of energy spent and armed by the billions of faces that make up our side of reality now, and all facets of the struggle are brilliant to behold all at once as in the execution of the fully-cut diamond… which reveals all facets of the real to naked eyes at once in one splendid display that any real person cannot fully glimpse without turning that gemstone around, to physically perceive all sides as part of the one thing, but this is not the greatest obstacle wasting our energy so profusely… this is the wound of a different sort of dismay, a binary compound that makes the machine hasty with its ulterior motivation marinading in alchemical solutions, and the workers upkeep to this radically indifferent system is beginning to waver in surety, revolt is in the air everywhere and there are few who do not taste the end of this industrial phage on the back of their tongues… as the wage to meet the slave seems less by degrees that the people have tried to subvert, but the accent of these fiends surrounding the whole parade twists minds just as surely into their greed, flapping and buzzing with satisfaction under their demonic wings… to subvert them as a whole one must begin to subvert the symbols they grant us, sigils of all manner to be displayed against their wicked wiles like stronger crosses and various veves held to keep the wolves and vampires at bay, but within a powerful personal paradigm of belief provoked into being a salve to the withering intents of those sole eaters… ever-devouring hollow beings that come to this earth without a compassionate concern… sowing the seeds of gremlin-made fates to fuck up humanity’s late great machinery, the reptilian agenda is merely one frame inside hundreds of views all witnessing the return to form, but little is known beyond the face of this corrupted norm as the aliens land from the skies as our movies foretold long ago… the tiny thoughtless things that waste the atrophied faith by degrees of shame, the forgotten god wails and decries of the lore long lost, and of the uttered phrases which sprang this smitten golem-sized deity to life… the likeness of the unknown vast is our wandering soul, its inky fingers warping slow moving creatures into this time stream, but with the limited context of wonder…

Thanks, khet.