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satan’s vacancy

no one wants to be me but everyone wants to be aware just in case of something nasty that may and probably will come their way as in the madness of self-fulfilling villainy descends upon the rogue and odd picaresque dramas that ensue from discourteous periods we are projecting a demon quality like some demiurgic technology that makes no sense except whatever we can measure from within this beast in its atrocious wave patterns passing out blame for the smallest infraction, and this is how people work together in such settings of entrapment taking shape and assessing all your value as much as mine in a similar game played to each other though not entirely inhabited by the same characters no doubt whether you do believe it or not never matters except in your own head where it always matters most over those that would choose to slay you or allay you as the forces beyond your conception fighting for expression Here in a realm where people jam and dislocate themselves all the time with no exit in sight, through trenches a light with both spirit and energy in a mental dark age trying to keep the remedy pure to cure the sickness of knowing that pervades the conscious collective of humanity at times to a plague wave extent in strength and proportion resistant to holy diseases and conditions that will not just go down in history as failed experiment infecting tired broken systems that have spent most of the “good times” aligned with a most horrid collection of imbeciles at beck and call to be summoned like the aforementioned demons… the lure of lore can paralyze the witness with dreams and fantasies in rendering some of these surreal ideas for real in the manifest density confused with the abstracted urge of symbols and signals in an attempting of a mutual understanding with the world about what it means to exist as the being and the concept bound together immutable and interminable as many a question that seeps through the warped dynamic glimmer all around us, as the terrain goes out from under our feet when feigning the defeat can keep a person from being utterly debased by the scythe of fate that swings ironic yet stoically sharp to maintain a boundary of general examples to warn the rest of their shared ends if that means delivering one to the killing blow as an event horizon all of its own as the psychonauts inside of our heads cycle through the screaming fits as the blade severs all that was from is, but split seconds exist when few understand the gift of life that is given by those steps and modes that hold us Here if only for what seems a short time amidst as great an oblivious distraction as can be managed by the creatures behind the scenes of existence changing reality to see what we want to and the ways we choose to perceive these changes whether as the ones left awaiting the worst case to appear or wondering paranoid and sensitive to the larger pulse and sound of knowledge in this world with a few exceptions beating out the general law for whose affections and afflictions have remained based in the holy-endorsed concepts of good and evil…

Thanks, khet.