So as you all know, those who read this shite anyway, realize that I write to let my catharsis run wild... so in my quest to defy all reasonable explanation, i have begun to take matters into my own hands... to this end, i tried to enroll my little neck of the woods Here in the BlogSynergy networking, but alas was rejected as being too much of a "personal novel" for their acceptance... to switch it all around, i started a new blog site over on the west side of town in the 'blogspot.com' range... my description read as follows from the previous submission to their cracked worldview... 'the madness, the horror, the extreme unrelenting force of a harsh persuasion... the burning of blood, the ashes turned to dust, and the heart lies striking distance from the surface... the traces of an impassioned risk taken without edges carved into this, the structure that exists around us, what we have built has become the greatest revealing quality to that which is inside of all of us... the capability to be housed deep in the tissues, and not have some retort for the killing joke presented to us by the corrupted liars amongst us, waiting for a weakness cutting the human mass to pieces... the risk it seems to defeat us, but do we have the entrails to meet the challenge, can the point be lost on something as observant as what we believe we are capable of?... the edges creep back into frame to startle the lame surge of laughter, viral through the crowds, and slides home somewhere between the ears to loop around back again... the passive remains the sane as they sway, rocking against the waves of pain the angry unleashed, compassion seeming lost in the stiffness... the joints break down as the mind dims thin, cracking back the taps into spinal 'columbined' {read; violent, to burst} fluids, and still the silent leak into thread-bare listless crave... the tapping totals nothing as the fingers flicker from fear to page in equal streak, but is there ever really more to this, something quantified beyond the potential?... maybe it is Here, where we seek and utilize seeds from the past, and formulate the solvent solutions to make right things wrecked... this dispelled tumorous negative mass appealing to half of us, by-and-large through tortured hopes and wasted charge, because this is who we are... the dark and the charming empty strangers, bending over in stranger dangers, and times are tough in these steady days of need... the excremental feeding other strains of bacteria that worlds away are really the 'we' that cannot be seen with naked eyes, only in dreams to partake'... poetry, eh?... not some personal vendetta of novelized crap as we might share with each other in these stray times of our lives... woe to thee uninformed vast array of persona that include those people that would allow such blogs that i enjoy as 'ularedux.org', but somehow if my blog too wordy perhaps, what else am i to do.... monetize?... fuck that.
Thanks, khet, i'm outy...
