eating Titan.

an arrested development if there is answer to the ‘what if there is no work to be done’ question… perhaps a frightening prospect for one trapped in the machine as it dreams of life lived through human minds and eyes attached, equal sight beyond a bias fascist fetish no matter how creatively played, but life is ever filled with many humble moves inasmuch as the grandiose gesture or malignant trick to spread the word like a virus-filled rat for plague-bearing the generations away… the next toxic gene to send horrid fits through the best of them as though like voltage treatment in the asylum den, doctors’ predatory faces hidden behind the mask in the analysis to displace the humane comfort on the surface of the skin, but carefully-laid spidery complexities are woven from within into place to secure a future for any and all of the living offspring that grow in the chest waiting for it to hatch out of obstruction after feeding on the innards like maggots… we are the feast for the subtle bodies that shift time and space adrift in the solar winds as they ever sail forward to what some might call as destiny, the straight-ahead serious approach always takes hostages forcing us to understand the gist against our wills which only leads to resentment and hostility used to fulfill an expected direction, but leaving too few behind to guide the rest towards the right light as perceived by these deceptive eyes… boldly going where no one should have gone before until now, but doing much more than scraping the bottom of both barrels as we dance throughout our lives with piece of mind painting the ceiling, at some point the absolute realization that we all have to die when the time comes for any of us… undone by controversy and empty misgivings by the group mentality that can take you or leave you for the worth of genuine perspective manipulated as the cult of personality requires of you to just deal with feeding the money obscenity, and this obscenity is why many are thinking of opting out of this dying age as it thrashes and renders its death throes, a neutralizing force absorbing the divorce of spirit and mind and man with no dividing line necessary to seek the truth… just required to decide what lines to follow, but nothing else needs to be used as a judgmental ploy to pull the emotional gravity into tainted drama fluxing around that particular individual spark that humans kept warm with their fluids and protective nests, however there will soon be desired a next step somewhere after this trash has left us alone with our human souls… initiate all the foul beings into one well-thought out plot where they are shoved into a boiling vat or pot, and sold for parts and permissions on the black market to seek what magic is left at heart in the souls of the darkest magicians as it leaks out and freaks us out from the start when searching for the real truths in learning the art of reality, trying to master the manifesting of destiny Here against the general law’s design for our role to be fulfilled interacting just slightly out of time with each other just enough to avoid the collision of sentiment that comes when tensions arise… the history edible and viable for the consuming mass quality in the realm of life phased constantly between the material lines and the crossing of artificial boundaries of growth meant to subdue the physical swell in number of individual cells that would consolidate into one massive titanous form to behold, as though this were some kind of Clive Barker tale at all, but no this is how all of the pieces even the feces come together within us to be expressed as the human being… no way to escape this grotesque burlesque or its dancing fools shambling the entertainment into a new state of frenzy to keep the surging binary code at work, but inseminated by the intellectual elite and their class to keep the uprisings under control as the common folk try to understand their troubles, the fear of being struck down overwhelming a sense of righteous justice from the individual’s head space operating to define by some readymade statement…

Thanks, khet.

Posted by :\_khet on August 4th, 2011 in blogging, dark thoughts, my art & dreams, p for Periclitate..., rants & raves. You can leave a response or trackback from your own site.

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