i was never meant to be the happy-go-lucky sack of dirt, always willing
to sacrifice their shirts, but sometimes being this selfish hurts
everyone without the words involved to further the distress… to combat
the negative impulse, i try this disciplined fetish to shield my idea of
self from the perils of life’s digestive plays, but even these attempts
to recreate falsely don’t work only to shame the dark investor who
accomplishes little but that urge of self-gratification… they also
describe from an objective plateau where the personal subjective
experience can be analyzed while still transmitting, the idea of disgust
has to be lived through to be moved beyond somehow, and there are few
absolutes in figuring out the individual motivations alone… we all seem
to have something different to contribute in the grand scale as it
expands outward into that vogue demagogue out there driving the machines
subtly designed to eat our dreams, the ephemeral fuel made by the sea
of fools as they sway and they follow, is there some harmless way to
exit this disgraceful function?… i cannot see so well anymore, and there
are few ways to manage ignorance where insight once fit in, the
narrowed presage that pulls away the pallor of the perverted passion
turned inside-out to fit the whim around a single shoe to walk within
for leisure and destructive surge to find treasure…
