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tricks of the Trade-in

boredom yet the kingdom tread by human paths conceptualized in minds open to terror trying to terraform a structured core where the one i am is a being just as boring as that of aching dominion craving a carved sort of curve out of learning, while caught in the excess of queues each formatted by the individual held captive by those options allowed to one of the many as only money can afford to excise the thoughts by universal whim retarded whose give-and-take tantrums yield not one solid step forward but wholly to be forewarned by others who in travel become worldly beasts but retain the state of the artistic animal nonetheless as a child of the mind lost in illusions found prior to this cranky conformity so profound to any who might utilize the gift of words revealing that wonder too subtle to be great and as silent as the golden brick buying a wall to protect and deflect the small weird bauble time permits once we find ourselves Here at last in the nowhere of ‘Now Here’ excluded from the treats that trick us to be subservient subjects in relentless restlessness where we can utterly question these whys and wherefores quite a deft sleight of hand of gods made monsters when debauch and modern decadence still a few meters from every motion that we ask bold yet childish demands that few can ever find a steady supply of answers to assure our consciousness is on the right progress of process except through a blind trust like faith that conclusions of delusions are meaningless if the proper player is not halfhearted in participating as the many filtering information into the one setting themselves up as sacrificial scam or victim to be programmed to attain a feudal futility tender as they are fragile even though the ‘was-dumb’ feats break us down sometimes to crack holy blackened pots stickered as past expiration out dates us as obsolete by elitist cries of trend and hip retreat in dark ages so futuristic as to be fictional rather than factual by default as teased movements pour out from our stubborn leisure syndromes locked in nickel-and-dime necessity training us to indeed pinch and save and yearn to be heard by any whom accept these words a foul vowel at a time when few appear to have a means to communicate more than the barest of interest saying we reclaim a heresy used as resistance to create as much distance the creature of product from isolated ideals rarely practiced in or with any practical sense or pragmatic sensibility as more conquering and pillaging go on as though what was medieval never left us… the magic never left us to be able to touch pure thought though we are fooled into believing that the artifacts created are perfect, but this is where our hubris gets it so horribly wrong as curious righteousness kills us with the same certainty as gravity crushes us into the ground to become dust that rises up yet again lost among the trees as the forest falls with no one to hear it collapse like a one-hand clapping in congratulations that we predicted a self-fulfilling prophesy for civilization as a whole without ever transcending death only in small pockets where reality really was more subjective than objectivity quantified by human minds that can perceive the abstract, though birthing these ideals into the real warps the tribal inspiration that birthed us and the species we see over the years witnessed and observed to be truth and fact trying not to scare ourselves too much in the cesspool sucking cess out…

thanks, khet.