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Where Are We Now?…

66.6% of this day is evil, my friend, but how to present my case one might ask?… the printer’s devil, a demon named Maxwell that spins open doors between worlds we adore and allow to absorb ourselves, and there is something unreal about the appearance of disaster and suspiciously dreamy when waiting for the faery man to bury himself beyond the lapsing waves of these reverting streams of continuous fluctuation in this weird underworld of sorts… where demonic forces lurk around haunting each corner and niche that the universal mind can conceive of Here, bathed in a sea of light that renders our eyes too sunshine blind to do more than bump into the many layers made real in the darkness of this material base customized with the population controlled in their static rituals made a collective flesh and blood source of struggle and challenge then turned resource labelled of the purest quality as it comes from the hands of human ingenuity, and an innovation in the tools at hand as though done with a quest that never ends at least for those of us left Here to take out the trash and to teach those who have yet to learn anything at all worth knowing in the cosmic stellar mindset beyond the the larval womb planet for those mewling in complaint that the world stands too unfair… it is merely where we are now because there are still many lessons to be learned in this life and the next ones after those as we all traverse the parallel and perpendicular lines in weblike weaving patterns in order to fulfill our destinies lodged in free will, a difficult conundrum to try describing in this limited scope of perspective that drives itself forward no matter the circumstances, or whatever the consequences as sometimes we drift as much as we decide where to go or what to do… closets full of enmity between disposable heroes lost inside of a sleepless war where violence of the mind is more treacherous and difficult to be certain is defined right, because of all the loose ends untied while the united keep trying to hide the facts of this losing killing game they are playing our lives against with shallow keen insight on the fear that savages all Mankind’s hearts in the dark… born into the flesh constant and at some point, we are called to come back through time and space into further forms unknown as the Self develops through us as much as within all these physical representations inside this strange evolution that makes us believe it has plans for us in the collective sense, and a germ sets in motion the viral witness like a camera made to observe itself in a different version of satisfaction where being and getting used is the function throughout the whole of this extended warranty on our life… age and the nasty particles getting in and setting up a new township of toxified nature made death in cancerous watery sublimation of the living breath that has taken so many lives as is already in abundance and waiting to arrive, but yet there are these little intrigues that humanity gets sucked and fucked up into as obsession takes the soul core of control tempering the curiosity as everyone has taken and given for granted as respect for the distinction the terrible honor of killing by decision or decree signing the name to command and authorize severe penalties from one who sits too far from the view of the slaughter, laughing in secured safety away from the dead parlor tricks played hundreds of ignorant years ago by those racist and still greedy as yet rippling their influence through the ether to suppress in trust what little truth had ever been to an American mass acting certain at times both benevolent and malevolent in the asserting of a control culturally vital in element for most of our school-aged lives… scolded to show the power in authority as minions sign the greater good into retreat from this harsh planet of mongoloid struggle pushing back the progress used as a cliche to arouse the labor into various levels of subjugation in order to really harness the energy that living beings have to offer, we allow the figureheads held in high regard like crest or a shield to represent protection from all the evil things out there as corrupted games as we might call them ‘politics’ or ‘lobbying’ sets in motion the mechanics of despair more so than an organic process of sorting out compassion among the bestial awareness, but though the creatures allow us to move far enough on a board where gameplay is always limited by the offenders in positions of numb and knowing certainty it is a realm we wander by foot which turns into miles of undeniable experience after us… giving time to those as required…

Thanks, khet.