All The Wrong Topics dot com

to diagram at a time…

the shapes and the patterns enchant us with their variable symbolic languages all crosshatching right up against each other in almost antagonistic tessellations that startle the imagination whose narrowed paradigm allows for very few details to shine on through the rough-hewn surface of a cold resting bitch face as we use it to repurpose our attentions away from the banal and unkind miracles produced like a charitable quote to harness the best of times no matter how horrible these people, living out constructs of our illusory lives imprinted onto our continuous consciousness spinning sometimes out of our own mature ideal of a controlling interest that appears to bring us in conflict with who we think we are on a daily basis like the animals as babies with no sense of direction in the fetal womb swimming to out soon living hopeful lies as a pet sheep for a time that is until the edge of self-awareness meets us so sharply that for some the cuts inflicted leave scars as they bleed out those who cannot or refuse to upkeep, and we test ourselves daily in an epic scale at which to tip in some way attaching balance like lines in the sand marked to force us to cross the imaginary river of fear-aligned borders such a way as to provoke and agonize us all into distinct movements whether collectively or singly is not really the point Here perhaps an objectivity in speaking though i do not know this as a surety of fact or reason as the non-disciple of logic i am always questioning the reality we have been granted when taken like a red pill to swallow… it is never written out or said as clearly as when one of us gets these ideas fresh from the fruits of our own labor of experience Here on a plane where existence may come to crash sooner than expected inside of a mind into the horde of whores buying and selling their souls for little more than this material life that can fade faster to contradict (or perhaps to be contra-dicked by the system) personal interpretations of the responsibility as we have to include upon our shared resumes as the collective of humans, homing in on the visceral while it is our mind that tries to calculate and analyze striving for job well done perhaps by our own surprise attempting to categorize all the raw data into corrected catalogues one glacial step at a time as an order is made to perpetuate this interpretive topography predictive almost religiously in the spirit of the finite and an infinite assertion of what is really there beyond all the visual representation drawing lines to define some of those things as yours and those that are mine onto the other side, but a schematic decision process graphs as a gadget to utilize when scrutinizing the flow of charts and bending arcs that wield interpretive data like a sword through the dimensional air to inform those viewing through lenses that try to see with eyes unclouded by emotions that would clutter and delay understanding in living meaning out as one at a time chiming in timing with known detailed evidence that this is not all that there is in existence past tense…

Thanks, khet.