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…co-pathetic copacetic cope aesthetic…

…it does not matter how much gear one acquired that does not automatically make one the most mechanically-inclined of the species nature has allowed surrender to the surface to create society and civilized sensations amongst the tribes still yet remaining Here linked but separate scholars on the brink of an eye loosing our threads over courses weaving a cosmic tapestry occlude as an eclipse leaving shadows and superstition behind in its waking grip continuing to grasp our attention again once every great while, as coping with mechanisms even if only in my head entrancing looking for a doorway into the building perhaps through the ears using sounds to captivate persons unknown and save myself as well but for what does this being keep doing whatever it is this can become as like a written chrysalis from which the newly-minted author is to emerge ideas electric within this shocking paradigm built upon voltage until there will be a nervous breakthrough instead of breakdown set clinging against the static edge of silence while somehow trying to align various signs and miscellaneous symbols out of the ether to further any benefit as one can find riding the frightening into the horizon of eyes set on the prize, erratic tectonic fates moving under our feet as one branch in the tree of life mates with another to reproduce offspring as yet one more jumping off point that factors in mouths to feed ratios in crass and rude remarks unremarkable to the feelings of kind people the type of which we all hold dear because their compassion lights up the world as filled with a bleaker hate than what seems possible as though turning all those mean spirits back in upon all of us together digesting the myths and legends as differing archetypal versions play hero’s journey for themselves to find fortune sometimes even if that might mean disaster when we may not have to live through to the conclusion everyone else experiences Here… cannot help the urgency felt while each breath escapes me to witness perhaps the acceptance of phlogiston collaboratory where the spark yearns to be free to express not necessarily efficient as our elders made mistakes before wealth of arrival for each artifact as we become mutating shadows of our forebears as they lurk so large above us with our eyes tendency to deceive even we who would advance if only beyond our years to do as we could know for ourselves how to ascend outside the larval stench of this human-occupied landfill observed throughout the dialogue as ‘home’ Here, a heaven beside us while hell within igniting curiosity streaming filtered by conscious perception with accompanying symptoms of hostile regurgitation and urgent digesting of information in all iterations probable and plausible in excess canon fired up to see manifest into festivals of light anesthetic and aesthetic surprises for all who participate Here where mystery and misery dare to break contemplate states of minding one’s own fetid business lost amongst the flock of thought police in our midst, the soured piece of flesh work with acid tongue using cutting words to disintegrate cautious steps we have all taken from was-dumb to wisdom to incorporate experience into preventing a sour cop out shooting from the hip when its known we will miss the appointed target there because few of us can train for these modes of lifestyle where danger rides shotgun as a passenger side partner through vague concerns in the streets out on the offbeat gathering evidence we are worthy of uniting once confirmed we are not all dead as yet walking living…

thanks, khet_:/