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…the Incontinental…

…why believe the faces of politicians when they proceed to lying confidently because the proving of something is so difficult an exercise to harness properly without factual evidence being enough to sway one side or the others to try formulating some kind of support even through enduring rifts that these strangely parallel stratospheres of the social and technical corollaries have come with being as wired into Now as we are Here in this current iteration of civilized behaviors, though soon we must realize when something must be done before the breakdown of parts into smaller integrity those as pieces become their own collectives with little to no connecting tissue between categories of information stored away or used for a purpose to walk amongst the shards that can harm us when we tread with bare feet upon burning asphalt as the world’s rhythms spill tea and disease into streets to seize the sights of the common imperative to thrive while also arriving at the destinations one has hopefully chosen as pathway to betterment, especially considering how fragile we all are at our core yearning for direction to guide the restless who hide Here along with the circadian rest whose rhyme is given as password to oblivion or perhaps a permanent sleep would do us all some good we never know until we know stemming from the inexplicable vastness that we label as ‘unknown’ as spiritual reservoir some energy dogs our tracks at every length of travel in searching for settlement or as regards an economic madness that leaks through every orifice interfaced remaining nomadic never in the same place for long enough that roots will grow from your feet… to crawl on our hands and knees as the symbols of submission to subvert rapid perversion rampant in our society rancid rapacious and virulently exchanged between residents Here in a service-to-disease mentality that intrudes upon a medium of humanity with feces clinging to our garments when caught flailing together as yet unmolested children playing in the mud and rain with pure joy and innocence when otherwise around the world it is a vicious battleground where states the direct line drawn in the sand so not one person passes beyond the ward, once the threshold is crossed then the childhood has been lost to wages of time and space phases discarded or integrated when we personally localize change within ourselves counting down those stray moments of mortality one at a time it appears to shadow us in a culture that allows for such surveillance to infest and excused away as protection more universal than ever before endowing commonly held beliefs about mental disorder while closing us into see-through cages of our own creations, but adapting the malign orders that be with our own defenses that take the shape of the vulnerable trying not to be taken advantage of by not cowing down to triggers that cast doubt like alloys and armor with a predilection toward using negative tropes as offense against legions of possible lesions attacking our flesh as much reconstitute the mutating ability to survive through manipulative procedures that end up defining us as heroes to ourselves before as cliche as it sounds losing our shit when the shit comes down Here, certain of this turmoil as a gift to be granted or taken as stereotypical token traded for powerful upgrades mostly for a material nature becoming rage-fueled feuds from within us something wicked this way spits out the villain formed under dark tides from the universal perversity inherent in these systems set on self-destruct as we transform into incontinent continental consequence…

thanks, khet_:/