it all seems so random, but there appears as though a conspiracy of
purpose lying on the horizon, when it seems certain as though things
will work out but they do not… the opposite conspiracy at the same time
is one of the happening trumping everyone’s various plans in the works
for these seemingly random fits to counteract problems, the monster
humanity treats every other respective being of the species as shit
before the respect even begins, and nobody has room for anybody else
anymore… it is difficult to discern the laughter from the screaming on
this trip through, it really is something different for each of us on
this plane, and only a slight few of us seem to fill the shoes enough
for the holy guardian angel to grant we beasts an audience with cosmic
forces beyond our direct comprehension… unlike the rest of your
potheads, i have nothing to celebrate this particular holiday this year,
but seek and you shall find whatever it is that you might need… where
there is a will, there is a way, but you already knew that didn’t you?…
so what is common sense for that matter, huh?… constantly accused of
needing it to circumvent the stupidity i seem beholden to, confusion is
the latest in a long line of trends and excuses for which there is no
reason, but the human fallacy for requiring a crutch of any sort really…
whether these crutches work for or against you is up to the pressing of
certain limits, respect for the spirits all around you as well as
within you, and you might just find what it is you are after in life…
there is no reason to fear the deity, if you believe that deity is there
to guide you to something better, but this belief must be resolute or
there are consequences within the specific milieu one allows themselves
to enter at will… this language allows for so many various descriptors,
but there are few that aren’t used with at least more than two
contradictory means, these dual plus definitions ruin an otherwise sober
and reflective conversation… the context becomes unique when the gaps
in time are long, but the emotions never get heated to the point of
sacrifice, of which there are degrees with an equal and opposite
resonance… all the varying reflective facets to this crystal ball,
visions are mad stupid but not completely out of range for the numb,
dumb or wasted… the trash park fractured features force the bubbles to
boil out of the backside like the pimpled pocket of pus, outrage at the
holy spurt not quite aligned right, and then regret and guilt smack of
dead fish with a scent stinking of cold sweat…
11.5.11
Shemhamphorasch.
the communications reach fever pitch as the discrepancies lurk all over
the place, but most of all those dark captive beatings that take place
between the ears… we scrape valid parts of ourselves away to try being
less square, always in concern of looking foolish even when that fool
carries with them the next new idea, and only to leave the peg to get
hammered into the hole… we cringe when our name gets called, the worst
things lying in wait to fuck us over in subtle degrees, but the mad
mirth takes with it the fears and negative impulse that always carry us
over the edge… it gets even murkier when staring into the face of a
person you distrust, having their own capacity for oblivious mistake
like everyone else Here, and it breeds a complex network of slack and
compensation when you have billions and billions of people encapsulated
in the glassy bubble of a water bead in a hydrophobic position standing
out from the cosmic span… the multitudes are disgruntled in their own
special ways, retarded by the dollar bill that has usurped the role of
marker into becoming symbolic as total masses of energy spent and armed
by the billions of faces that make up our side of reality now, and all
facets of the struggle are brilliant to behold all at once as in the
execution of the fully-cut diamond… which reveals all facets of the real
to naked eyes at once in one splendid display that any real person
cannot fully glimpse without turning that gemstone around, to physically
perceive all sides as part of the one thing, but this is not the
greatest obstacle wasting our energy so profusely… this is the wound of a
different sort of dismay, a binary compound that makes the machine
hasty with its ulterior motivation marinading in alchemical solutions,
and the workers upkeep to this radically indifferent system is beginning
to waver in surety, revolt is in the air everywhere and there are few
who do not taste the end of this industrial phage on the back of their
tongues… as the wage to meet the slave seems less by degrees that the
people have tried to subvert, but the accent of these fiends surrounding
the whole parade twists minds just as surely into their greed, flapping
and buzzing with satisfaction under their demonic wings… to subvert
them as a whole one must begin to subvert the symbols they grant us,
sigils of all manner to be displayed against their wicked wiles like
stronger crosses and various veves held to keep the wolves and vampires
at bay, but within a powerful personal paradigm of belief provoked into
being a salve to the withering intents of those sole eaters…
ever-devouring hollow beings that come to this earth without a
compassionate concern… sowing the seeds of gremlin-made fates to fuck up
humanity’s late great machinery, the reptilian agenda is merely one
frame inside hundreds of views all witnessing the return to form, but
little is known beyond the face of this corrupted norm as the aliens
land from the skies as our movies foretold long ago…
To fuckland be damned.
this is the new space for protein pacification, polar particles in the
real time thermodynamic state of being our burdens to bear, and this is
the evolutionary throwback with details like the extra long tale where
it shouldn’t be… becoming roving packs of social Darwinism making wrongs
instead of rights, as following Haeckel’s recapitulation theory at
large in diminutive perspective as the hordes of the mainstream
population, and our embryonic journey has yet to finish… as the tail
might recede into the coccyx to form the modern human, the living idea
moves through substance into yielding at the developed being, but the
most sophisticated part in the brain develops last which leaves the
question how many of us tend to be least likely to adapt appropriately?…
our society founded on archaic hearth wisdom from aeons ago when
Ouranos was first castrated by Cronus, rites masking as wisdom used
against us by these social purists and selfish pursuits, and mocking the
real people in place of a daydream that may never come true again… a
remark on Lamarck before the soft inheritance of these traits comes true
for you too, as you are now absorbing them through a brief scan with
the help of acting as hosts to these various equivalents of cultural
genetics, but your mind might as well act the unyielding membranous
barrier to selectively choose the ideas most vital to adapting to a
specific awareness… epsilon children in the twilight of our
enlightenment period, and so now comes the need to learn and retain what
experience we come away with, before the whole ‘sky-is-falling’
scenario comes horribly true for us all… come one, come all, come
frequently… this is not a game show, but the real of the real where
every dream must come true in order for immaterial laws to supersede the
human needs, the atmosphere around us swirling like the artificial
flakes in a snow globe… always wanting the ideal measure to take the
place of our own impartial and impatient selfish super seeds implanted
to make the most impact over all the basic generations of self, whether
of our own tribe or not because our plant needs to grow further at any
cost, but that price has always remained ambiguous until any factual
effect has long come under display through the naked eye… the absorption
through human osmosis of brain tissue, as shone through the prism of
the intellect and analytical faculties, and projected from the absolute
of humanity’s motion whether in the carved rocks or gilded towers of
glass and steel… constantly in the sequence of pushing things past the
metaphysical (astral and etheric realms) and physical layers as though
the source were a heated plate, and we are the bubbles boiling below the
surface of the water waiting to rise, the experience of our lives
encapsulated within that bubble of time and space as we burst forth into
the next state of being once the metaphor breaks loose of of its ideal
constrictions…
Sunday before last.
it takes very little to secure a future in this world, but when one
doesn’t sense the type of sacrifice it takes to bring a particular
reality into quick appearance, all kinds of havoc and mayhem shine
through the veneer of plastic false politeness through idle chatter… a
delivery of free random verse about the various possessive ways wicked
to the good character of the social beast that the human animal can be
when there are few rules applied to these interactive situations
requiring the being of human, civil and calm to better assess the
activities derived from the ‘party down’ mentality, but few realize this
is the primal tent pole sticking out of the ground… underneath the tent
we are presenting a revival, or perhaps more aptly the devival of
authoritative powers that be, their choice made long ago consistently
upheld wrongly as a standard for no reasoning or great ideal other than
controlling the populace by and large to make us a herd for consumption
of whatever sort deemed worthy… the fall of vast corporate motion
through the factories and commercial farming to be replaced by the
digital realm as overseer, the central force purging the world of its
heavy burden of blame and waste, but better organized before becoming
greatly fucked up in any grandiose manner by our own unwieldy desires…
the repetition of stories made up by the convincing strains of
characterization projected forth like a mission, the strength of the
individual tale wrapped inside its characters, and it is Here that i
find myself on a solo plane in my reality bubble… the imaginary yields
but singular fruit at times, and usually when no one is looking directly
at the product created, the energy of the audience transferred to
charge the magic needed for the person to be pulled in by the merits of
the storytelling alone… but the reader is no mere hermit nor necessarily
a powerful magician with the abilities to define layers of symbolic
meaning, there is no lack of expression for those who commit themselves
to the goal beyond the glory, we thank the gods and kiss the feet of
whatever forces we wish to appease most in our lives… torturing
ourselves through a mass production misery that thinks it is constantly
expanding, distracted perhaps enthralled by our effects on other people,
but we need to see the possibility for growth if there is ever any way
to get beyond these skeletal structural remains… some would prefer to
argue in other rhetorical directions as though we are merely the
servants to our senses, and we remain subdued by our fetishes for
control in this experimental place that has yet to really pan out any
serious statements of intent, as the hive mind tries to subvert humanity
through the attention given to public cultural icons as it is turned
into celebrity fascination to force a pulsating conformity onto the
populace…
Meeting cEvin Key.
don’t get me wrong, it isn’t as though i disbelieve in community, but i
am highly disagreeable with mainstream thought as i feel i have been
sold-out by the nationally-endorsed educational system in power since it
was first established and remains the very same repetition of
information until the freethinker has to drop-out sooner than later…
however, this is only the lead-in segue to my tale, and this is thanks
to all the people involved and credited to making my good time possible…
let us begin Here, A-boy contacted my love through this internet
contraption and its accompanying software with Email connection, but
this leads me to enlighten you as to the start of this groovy
relationship between us all as well… we had met A-boy at the Nny Ppy
show in the warehouse at the height of drunken complexes unwieldy on my
part, she remembers distracted anxiety alert in the ballroom there, but
it was certainly more intense at a later date when we met A-boy again at
the oHgr show held at the same place… this is where we all shared our
interest for the industrial music scene initially, late in the night
separated by time and space after everything had closed, but the waking
luxury accented our real freedom even more after the bullshit… again, we
see the Nny Ppy at this venue with usual souvenirs bought, but with a
distinct lack of discombobulation enough to reach out and see them
further out in another city… the variation of interior and atmosphere
made all the difference in comparison with the previous place, and A-boy
was a completely alright soul to get to know sitting to the wee hours
in a drunk madness, especially in lieu of all confusion in after party
shenanigans that only cEvin participated in… it is Here that we find the
flag interlude where i vaguely explain my gifting process, in the
course of meeting one of the two Kevins after the oHgr show was when the
courage hit to give him the flag i had created with the help of my
workplace, and i bought the materials and the pattern i made and handed
it to Kevin at the same time my lovely handed him the beautiful Gnosis I
book… flash forward to the above mentioned after party where the other
one of the two Kevins was personally, but perhaps i am mildly mistaken
where i gave him the other flag, and this is the ‘cool’ detail i find…
Kevin (oHgr) has the sewn applique nylon 2foot by 3foot flag with the
recent logo for the group, while Kevin (Key) has the solvent print 2foot
by 3foot flag on flag material where the elder ‘SP’ logo stands askew
from the newly revised ‘SP’ logo with the band name underneath, and he
says that he has it in storage and not out “in flight” after i asked
where it was “flying”… okay, so A-boy is in knee-deep in the scene, and
gives my love updates on what comes our way… the last one before this
one was with cEvin, spybey and western, and it was Here that we got our
souvenirs autographed… hmm, and it could also be the place i gave Key
his flag or not, not sure really right now… well, A-boy came into our
neck of the woods and gave us a lift to the Numbers outing cEvin
appeared at this time, but it seems no one got paid at all for that gig i
learned later on… tough break because A-boy was tremendous with his
skills between all the various personalities, but i believe it took a
recognition on all of our parts for it to have worked out as such a
meeting as it did, though enough of this crap spew waste from my
fettered mind on to the tissue of the issue… the four of us get there
after the emo band, and we stand there against the wall watching twin
grand-span screen televisions that vary channels, she and i began
drinking at this point… the dance was on and what began with one
spinning gothic lad soon became a large mass, but i restrained myself to
head-bobbing and foot-tapping until the real performance later in the
night, and as the club closed up its doors… A-boy was busied with
getting great footage as he was renowned for between my love and i as we
get out very little, and it was because he aided the performers with
finding hotel accommodations for the night that i believe we met cEvin
Key in person, it still gets me really something weird inside… i was
very envious of his herb stash waving right in front of me within
minutes of handing him my tri-bass logo in black adhesive vinyl, and my
question was answered again within minutes of a back and forth between
backstage and dressing room where talk of papers were passed around by a
vinyl-clad mistress who remains unrecognized to this day, he was very
kind and there were dual instances where we could have hung out longer
that didn’t work out… i guess we were still standing in the
fan-dumbstruck dimension as we sat listening with deaf ears to the album
Key put out years ago that i bought that night, smoking the last of our
herb laughing about what we would be doing with cEvin right then at the
hotel, and our friend A-boy and everyone else involved that was never
met nor named in this conversational affair made the more magical of
quaint slight connections between artist-music-audience…
the Queasy accent.
this ease with which we claim to know the ways of right and wrong, as
though our ancestors have known them all along, but where was that
compassion or resiliency towards other characters other than their own?…
a connection gauged between the harbingers of past tyrannical action,
and only the mere mention of puritanical behaviors in guise of lip
service to being more understanding of moral instinct weighed by a
challenged few, and with intelligent way of going about the business of
making us all whole with each other as a species… where we are the
guilty and floundering spirit of innovation as peak oil drains from the
stocks and barrels keeping this crashing lifestyle afloat, we are still
always rediscovering that information that unknown sources have
intentionally tried to keep away from our prying minds, and the
conspiracies are not just in the throes of theory anymore as we are
living in the pre-apocalypse age of conspiracy fact that we have been
manipulated from the start… however, there have always been other humans
and/ or otherwise watching over the currency within our social seeming
in total fascination from their vantage point, and the problem only
seems to expand as the voracious optical delusion faithfully eating
space materializes as the dread god money… the measured, accredited unit
of energy the value of which keeps dropping as the echoes of heroes
reveal their merely shadow steps imprinting the madness upon other
desires and ideas of wealth, and too many of us still train to see this
system as the catch-all to isolate and filter for the things we need to
keep this huge hulking juggernaut coasting along… the reality is not
truth, and the truth is equally not entirely real yet, as much as we
complain that we require it to be otherwise for anyone to survive this
nasty debacle we have ourselves locked into with irony… in the wringer
entwined with the casual assuage of our own meat, the wanton physical
pulls orgasmically spastic in their ways out of our limp and battered
forms, but yet we still feel that alien link with only two alternates of
conscious reflection… that dichotomy cutting our training in twain like
an etheric lobotomy, as the engine we are born with endeavors to digest
its share of the material that is Here, but at no matter the cost to
the struggling host outside of itself sometimes… unconscious of the
ability that the mind has of getting away with itself, all tangents of
thought as they open up through this organic portal, but it is the
choice of the human being what stimulus it might wish to embark upon
over the course of an existence on the real plane always…
Struck dumb.
by-product of the hallucinating parts of our minds, whether the
induction of such states under influence of DMT or some other
psyche-freeing substance, the strike of the ground to meet us is
excruciating when we realize what to do next… craving models to build
our ideas of living upon, a structure we just want to forget about when
the amount of time passes where we have no immediate need for the
knowledge gleaned, and it is on the surface of this plateau that we
acquire a divorce from our idea of data absorbed by this means…
organizing the thoughts in order of their priority, even as the
priorities shift from one hand to the other, but what impedance from
this charging tirade out of the mouth of the philosophers stoned… to
extol that an inkling of the just and righteous is within me is purely
false advertising on my part, but there are other parts to perhaps look
toward when contemplating a phuture so phat and deep with a sleeping
fortune of tortured contortions, the imagination stirs a beast that
waits in the farthest shadow reaches of personal time and space… the
conundrum with fated, heavy ponderous steps gauges the moves forward in
checkmate, and the sobering opponent deals out the cards necessary to
raise the ante in this life or death game of bored players… the chiseled
hide locked inside the cage of awestruck amazement might be a
retrovirus, but under what life shall it lead its next victims, do the
aliens observe us merely as prey?… an alchemy to this weird trick of the
mind and body, foolishly granted the abilities to change everything
with the wisdom and magic that the general law will allow, and soon
enough the waves will reject this constant lapping at the feet of
demon-gods that chaos and ignorance has allowed this current state of
leadership to be acceptable since perhaps FDR’s reign… the chaos culture
technique under which we are leaving makes it quite easy to be unaware
of all the basic things we need to know as a society together, thanks to
the centuries of progress via the adventurous endeavors before us, but
these particular successful wagers against failure seem rather singular
in comparison with the overall number of attempts at the focus of
understanding within all fields of interest or study the world over… the
spinning of world affairs on the tip of a thumb, as the pie slides down
into the palm of the sinister hand, and all essence of truth seems dim
to the results of any heir apparent anywhere… the insolvency of mind as
barrage of thought-forms shoot forward to remind of a certain something
that is there…
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