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the role of a paradise

one has to roll with the punches in order not to get beaten down by the proficiency of pain making our species silly and inane like starship troopers meaning to conform marching down glowing science fiction corridors oblivious to the obvious dangers regarded faithfully as fate moving slyly down the hallway to war meeting us half way out while belling all the others into the shrouded dregs that this tattered and raggedy civilization enfolding has built from the nothing that sees only emptiness in its wakeful state, quick zoetropical breezes swaying the needs a turn of the phrase back and forth as whims attack and decay from all sides the pressures of being tossed around like debris caught and launched in rag doll circles shaken to ever more confused traces of this conditional presence residing Here lost among the other zombie drones moving in time with the biologic clock of terror ticking down the moments as they flux and waver not always assured of what is really going on, but we are free to choose and make choices as we see fit even if these quasi-retarded fits become crucial fixes to retain some personal semblance of control that ideally will never be disposable like the things we consume so easily with what remains left a sodden mass for generations to come swimming through the consequential waste as collateral to the finite chase of childish sport pushing others to force their hands to abort this cycle of menace… is it a pristine whole in which we sit to reflect upon what this means to be these human machines quizzically looking to the stars and into each other’s faces for answers as parts collapse from myriad ways we had previously known them absorbing more as the time shapes us in uniquely fascinating modes and idea aspirations in clothing our every decision with what we want as a fitness to distinctive ideal models, motes locked into a stream of consciousness yearning for light to relieve this dark intension as built of regret and of guilted edges made fanciful lingering of a material management incorporated into this realm to keep these creatures in line sedated or distracted away from perceiving any truths that in actuality do lead us to enlightenment without becoming this monstrous Mankind that is what we fear holding our progress in cheque while shaming us all into becoming criminal soldiers as laws convince us that this is what we are in Here, but warrior games played as chances are taken as token guess gestures interpreting a language of signs from the heavens that surround our endeavors to search out and understand many things as fanciful hope keeping us anchored yet drifting to these distinctly personal situations where feudal struggle has never left us even as the ages have passed into generations that follow as footsteps fall silent behind us while working safe inside of our heads waking the dead from their slumbers committing moves to the world whose collective sway remakes fantasy all the time as the unknown hides mistakes…

Thanks, khet.