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Thoughtless press.

stalking, whistling nightmares of tearing and screaming fits… where does this entity rear its ugly head again for all involved?… blessed by the winsome ways of the worker, parlance of the atrocious wage slave twisted by the wiles of risky business practices, but what is life without risk?… it is a shameless trial of errors beyond all comedy and tragedy for the shameful participants chosen to want more, but ill-sustained resistance to the toxic air we breathe leads to troubles that are difficult to gauge from the beginning as we start to look for truth… the havoc endured at the teeth of the wheel as we are the trained to feel, a misguided stench leading us toward the rest of this stinking heap of animal skins as we feel along blindly approaching the tear in spatial awareness as we swim into the light of the next stroke of spiritual movement realizing that a flesh has grown around me, and that i have crawled through the womb of the imaginary prospect into the bone and blood characterization brought to materialize Here and now in the nexus of heathen form with all the many cells of self surrounding like the microcosm it is… we have devised a means to the next ends, each on our own quest to inhabit our own personal realm enmeshed with others in this particular station of time/ space limitation which makes me question what other limiting factors would present themselves into further dimensional habitability, and how is it that our former selves breakdown to reapply themselves into other visions and visionaries to create the realities made by dreams?… we inhabit these dreams that are not our own, but questioning always the root of our existence leads to distraction by other questions that linger and remain after the main options are transfigured for this lifeform we extract as this reality, the other choices that create those further idealized subcategories of lifestyle that decide some such nonsense from those choices being made… as the digital world curls in all directions as we perceive the few and far between, which means at times the only angle we have in the metaphor coalesced as opinion as our expression a limited array of terms and linked concepts, but because more than six objects exist even as the chosen perception is only to see five objects does not mean inferiority can be so rightfully implied as even this idea is only a symbol to be reduced to a format for momentary insertion and implantation… the consciousness openly rejects more obtuse language barriers whose symbols do not align with the connecting practical analogs between them, the fate changed for anyone can be a strong enough charge of energy fluxing into and through the driven sort who takes command at earliest convenience, and some bitter elements of human nature seem to hold back the full amount of honesty required to interact on more than just a surface degree of conviviality that most humans believe should politely be their right alone… how misunderstood by the outraged mind these concepts become when politeness appeals like a cruel trick to manipulate the ideals of other people’s trust, using words and predefined feelings to reel in the unwary and the tired and the lazy in equal quantities in order to explain away the rhythm and rhyme of hell’s tongue to the transient observer, but we commit ourselves to these dreadful games of weeping warriors trained to kill themselves after a job well done and roasted to perfection… the soldiers are us put outside of the common experience that we all crave to connect among each other Here in the heart of our species, the simpletons will try their damnedest to make it horrible for those with knowledge above their own as they give in to their old superstitions and ritual tricks to condemn the common human individual, but we will resist because to accept this infected system is to meet a fate worse than death under the subservient guise of master and slave can hold us down no longer… at least for those wishing some form of true escape…

Thanks, khet.