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succubi Swallow’d.

few romantic seekers anymore try to find their hearts, most try out their desires for a good portion of their lives, but even fewer still allow another to enter their heart core willingly… there are many treacherous authorities in the material abyss that might try to abuse the odd privilege to affect the outcome of romantic leanings between people, cut short by the imperious deeds of the superior opinion among the flock, but it only appears to have a moral basis Here… the factual artists amid the factual analysts find a wretched state to lodge themselves within, always at odds with the challenging aspects of human interaction and communication because we have been trained to respond when the bell rings, but what of the use of the shiny things against us in times of war?… when emotions are high in the air and far over our heads to comprehend, there is a natural gap where what is understood gets lost underneath the trampling feet of the subjective bystanders as they race in their panic to understand anything, but what of those of us who are not so easily settled with artifice and lip service?… where do they go to when they realize that all the rest of us are morons?… with some bland air of superiority there are persons who choose to shelter themselves in looking down upon others, to those people every aspect has to have this edge of competition to rally against the casually happy person who has more in spirit than the elite materialistic ones who place themselves at the apex of the controversial proof of society, and then make with the entrenchment to shoo away those who might actually have worth and an art to understanding in abundance from their ivory towers… leaving us trusting the false idols whose chatter forms a cacophonous mess from which it is quite difficult to discern whether to go or stay, the data is always in flux to feel out the weaknesses and impurities from within, and this action can betray the dense causality surrounding the precarious knowledge of information and the digital age as we go deeper… we embed ourselves in dark territories in order to overcome the harm inflicted by forces out of our control, the more we strike out among our enemies the more respect we naturally harvest from this cruel plateau to which we have succumb, but there are still mysteries that will evade conscious analysis and classification… we torment each other with the moral weight inherent in this respect, some feeling as though it is to be received as a given idea, but many more are seeing this as a requirement to be earned… few can slip by the periphery of nature and not get caught somehow, and as fantastic as it may seem, there are ways around being considered a dead weight in the grip of some neurotic disaster… we can allow ourselves to get lost as the body traps our energy as easily as it projects it into expression, the explosion of internal dramatic procedure to cut away the thoughtful repose for validated plans of action planted in the minds of the unobtrusive deceiver out there delivering wares of detrimental activity and proclivity, and using the rules and terms to abuse the civilized world of purpose… trying desperately to dispose of the vapid errors that contain this mess anatomically, as a cosmic skeletal system might appear to us, but draped in a clothing skin-like to expose us for the framed beings we are… hanging in the galleries to be taken notice of as the primary example of what not to be like, we swing from nails in the walls hearing our voices reverberate through this space, and singe the sails sewn for the gales of winding windy scenes that delay… the pirates’ life for thee, you see…

Thanks, khet.