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spazturazation

where do the flakes fall after a good heaving hoedown memory lane which appeals to the foreigner in their need for a curiosity to stare at distracting away from personal accountability as happens to be as frequent a scenario a bit once too often for liking these human fools who have spent formative years losing as much as they have built because of the mercurial mystery always with us as beginning from places when too far removed from the conscious quantification that allows us the luxury of analysis, we as scientists grant with magic wands the rights of bureaucracy to house and employ in massive scales of this hive mind quaking with terror at being found out as that wily charlatan by the people who had to trust them as a surge of loyalty moving more previously to sway under the auspice of royalty or personal jesus in our own images of the things we have said or preferred not to say as weight puts pressure on both as above and so below when we get down in it, and sometimes contradicted on all sides by the very people we have come to love or tolerate through the expressions of mortal connection event as heated debate stirs the locals into a frenzy tricking the senses and biological systems into rejecting the openness required to make the decisions that need a whole awareness in order to find the golden fountain like a sucked cess that pours out wafting harsh waves of diesel breeze lapping at the triggers of the human genome who becomes used to hormones and pheromones as long as there is no need to think about it too closely for comfort… trained to bend our opinions to dead defacto rulers measuring these homogenized stakes to claim to their graves with thoughts of revenge in heads that merely transmit these patterns wanting to translate themselves because this is a part of the unique programming made to conform to the standards upheld by people little better than dictators or tyrants ranting in timely fashion the bells tolling away for thee a grateful attitude draped over the arm and ready for a running heap of bull with enough heft to throw its own weight around, spreading the stink of ass everywhere the craven path leads like skunks on a bad parade leaving stench in the wake of the cunning stunted growth displayed for then a world becomes decayed withering heights of ecstatic degeneration made and manually-fractured in a step at a time when pain and anguish deliriously foreshadow every motion meant to quash freedom’s holy veil that seals us on this side of these precious deals that relocate our sense of justice for ourselves and others, but as shifting these sands of time and space equate to a solid reality most days there are no absolute guarantees Here to save us from being captivated by a system that doesn’t care think or feel for us at all unless we can prove our usefulness to any judgmental defilers trying to jet set everyone’s movement steeped in history and futility…

Thanks, khet.