Acting god.

lingering suction upon the primal drain that is the narrowing channel directing this humble flow of waste, the venting out of hasty retreading upon details and diameters suffering out the movement of diversity, but how to describe this ridiculous spindle of swindle?… the pretentious fascist facade that decrees and perceives us when we are waking and asleep, and demands the surface of devotion among the residual collective, the hive mind also matters to the structure of what is needed to hold tight in the palm under analytic eyes… deistic demon directives boosting the next step of the way of this trip, the somewhere/ anywhere that takes the place of intelligent design, and the man made dreams of grinding perfect order calls it quits… we are an act of god, but what is it that we are calling god?… are we always thinking of classical reference when we speak of that mystical mass beyond the skylight?… by classical of course i mean to imply the historic tales of the Olympians, the Egyptian and every pantheon known to the anthropomorph-romantic manner of humanity, taking the hearth wisdom of ages beyond our recollection through oral and literal traditions… harnessing our cultures into place for a rebirth into unified sanctum with each other as a whole, or is this yet another lie hiding within their arsenal?… to transmit these sacred implications gives me no right to take hostile stances towards everyone else Here, but what else have i to do when at times i have a difficult time liking myself, i want to feel humbled to your glances even as i feel no one reads this drivel… the harsh phrases have made their way into the vernacular of special significance because we layer it with so many other action/ reaction sagas… the continuous exploration of the extremes by all these different aspects of the true self, where a jesus figure might have been one more person relegated to the role of sacrificial catalyst in the greatness of expendable elements left alive in ignorant habitation just before anything like being “chosen” under ill-fated auspices in a bottleneck broken dream squeezing the ill-favored through with their cop bribes in hand to do the trick where just anyone gives in, and allowing ourselves to know too much in the questing for right and wrong amidst the denatured absence of real values or respect for other younger waves of creative energy… procreative grief over the insanity inherent in being this way, that comes off as a panicked state of drifting understanding the inspiration as much of it floats in the aftermath of atrocity, and the campaign crusades trying to force our truths under a sterile impotent careless mask of sincerity even when every appearance points otherwise in reality of nature… the demeanor can begin at formulation a disgraceful dimension to consider, or even to reconcile with good conscience, the meaning within its horrible ulterior motive as both sides in any struggle get screwed over by hypocrisy especially when this idea modifies into the ‘hypocracy’… the human being is in constant tuning of this existential instrument...

Shitty penetrations.

fodder to fill the mouth of the vengeful deity, the soldiers and righteous heroes under sway of realpolitik tyrants, stuck in the rancid randomized life… everyone has their own gimmick, whether balls to the skull, or subtle conniving strengths to overcompensate for terrible weakness… the universal basis for our system of degeneration is failure, this state is going from the bottom up truly, and there are many who wish it these sentient creatures never achieve a position above failure… we take a stab in the dark to find something more than this, and many more means to get hold of your own personal destiny than at first it would seem, we all get sidetracked by our variously designed training… the beasts are tempted by every other shit fire in the stormy weather of this pre-apocalypse… the distraction becomes too much to bare for the varying degrees of perspective in the out there… no one person can ever remedy every other ailment within this human body politic subverting essential reality… doctrines of all manner and sort passed down from authorities on high, but these proclamations are still man made, used to further tie and bind the populations that have allowed themselves be lead by impostors… from the presidents of false precious demeanor, puppets from the bankrupt well of souls, to the dictators with their military savvy to conquer with war on their wet brains… the blood drips in discriminate drops, that with thick sounds, thud upon deaf ears selectively hearing what they have been meant to hear… a dislocation from spine and forefinger as buttons are getting pushed down every day, to frown and dismay in the wake of their bombs displayed, and ringing with praise as thin membranous threshold flies away… the god awful drags the humanity phase through the mud of simple convention, a grouped demonstration of the mad limits of power for the mysterious interpretations of the intellectual side, but disguised by the blatant misdirection to create an atmosphere of panic and manipulation… the veil designed to eliminate confronting our worst sides of self, made to describe the many things with metaphor and analogy on the other side of this “god wall”, and Here we are still straining and staining the ground to hold us all together… the weight of our pressures on each other and one another crushing, squeezing the spirit from our bones as we gather the momentum necessary to break through this self-imposed ‘fuck-it-all’ attitude… this is where we happen to need to seek a difference in our natural way learned to interpret this land of escapes, the preconceived attention is there in the form insight and lesson, but is there ever really anyone there to reinforce those impressions?… i think our ideas are very limited about ourselves, but we rely on these ‘bass awkward’ ways to eat and digest what we perceive, as the individual grows and progresses from the merely animal to the heavily misunderstood actual human being…

Abusing the substance.

shuffling around only if you are so bored by the opened eyelid to see the cruelty inherent in this place, some of the beasts appear to take the human shape, but still others have to conform to other disguises… the aliens within us, and not the chest-bursting psycho freaks either, more or less that particular signal that filters through the organic matrix that houses our individuated soul… these are the cyphers to crack cosmic code, and even early humanity has had access to these forces and abilities, that psychic penetration into the flesh… for some this consciousness falls away almost immediately after birth, and this is what we forget in order to assume the next form of life, all things return to this state of living incarnation… even as sands of time shift and weave a spell over the world, in some way this linear model runs parallel to the dynamic energy that clings to all aspects of this rich plateau, neglect inevitably follows the conflict between what is said and that which is done to maintain this precarious reality…the eternal balance between earth and mind, matter and consciousness, and it is in the space between all these muscular works that the synapses fire… the sequence begins again to create new agents to view this world still further differently from what ancestors claimed would remain from the point of their age of incarnate existence, now they join with the spiritual mass on the other side of obvious perception, but their material parts divide into the rest of the living mass… ripples run into each other everywhere in this great sea where monsters manipulate the waves, it seems more and more like humans were just meant to distract themselves long enough, but to perceive what particular ends i ask?… claims riddle us with statements of serving and protecting the people, but money ends up being the great diplomat in the quest to recreate dreams and meet needs, a false god that the elite have come to worship in their shadow temples to the selfish ego of control… promised control over their own lives by giving into the greater control that external forces will push persons to submit to in order to gain anything in alignment with the hunger for more, and these selfish hungers for control represent the beast of human menace, these entities bedevil the souled human at every turn especially the ones that empty their organic portal into the depths with reluctance… tortured human robots that willingly allow their humanity to be sapped and perverted to satiate the needs of another force altogether, the united network of victims ins the new state of ‘Merica, but maybe this has really been the dominant truth all along…rules set by opinion, the rulership ideals of the wealthiest percent of the populace, and is there any wonder why we fear our police?… placated by massive amounts of “good” drugs to appeal to our commercial gods haunting us via the television lands projected into our minds, shamed into thinking we are nothing if we do not buy into the current regime which of course is part of the lie they feed us, and the guilty meat surges through our intestines forcing us to be hopeless tools in the societal discombobulation… the structure malformed by the purposes moved askew by the ones who do not hold the power, but this is the problem, we each affect the greater whole in a wide range of things we cannot see with our eyes… we haven’t done anything about our own plighted state because of the fear and panic in allowing ourselves to fall into ruin and disrepair, in looking for the next new thing we see instead of searching for answers to the lingering questions

Man, that's bogus.

people are such vapid inhuman things, the animals before conscious sense is merely a humanoid perhaps, and any claims otherwise are sorely tested by the rest of the experiment of being… the man i am is still that young boy that realized how unfair the world really is after the point where any learning or teaching would have changed the destination, people are shards of something brilliant at first, but yet still so fragile and horrible when given time to think for themselves… the standards stand there explaining things like a sphinx in heat, so willing to drool upon the meat as the human is stutters stricken with fear at getting the whole riddle wrong, but where are these overgrown selves to fight away the menace?… are we the new wave of Ebionites, Here to be extolling on the virtues in this spiritual cramp in the side of those ‘Jesus Fish’ lies, and dropping the wealth of an externalized material world to enjoy poverty with fresh eyes… a heart of good and positive things restrained by the contradictory nature of humanity, but the steady glare from the sunshine blind work whorse kind of humans forces one into an inner reflection of sorts… it is difficult to feel sane everything does damage to some extent or another, catching the awareness off-guard with a comment or an accidental miscalculation, but always moving somewhere under the surface of the skin like the disease in remission… the negative being underneath the surface hologram projections of what we call ‘human’, craving to understand what living really is through a mechanical puppet of flesh and bone, but not willing to make the sacrifice of self or ego to become one or the other… instead choosing to pursue control as trained by our intolerance and dislikes, and leading to further social pollution via disdain and indifference through the years, spawning all the deranged qualities inherent in knowing eventual peace in the sprawling emptiness left… even as the ritual summoned a smiting deity, the cosmos found itself needing a way to cleanse the corrupted demiurge from within the system, and Jesus seemed to be a perfectual fall guy… and as a christ-like emanation imbued him with understanding and wisdom, so too did the world need to change shape, and a contradictory essence both real and ethereal was categorically denied by the world at large… most people now reveal only the most positive bits of information about themselves, whether online or real and in person, and this crazily endeavored sequence promotes the random functions of chaos… the caustic sanity intense and remote as the human struggles with attainment of some probable equalization, distractions of all manners smacking one in the face without respect of forewarning, and this dream flows and foibles its way along the destination to something lifelike…

the Slow Children.

the dangers of becoming part of the robotic massive that utilizes the human form so casually, mimicry of the half-asleep sub-dermal programming in millions of random numbers, but this does not make your future any better… instead it makes your empty worthlessness exist by leaps and bounds against the grain of real time urge for necessity, and you decide firmly that there has to be a reason worth the time and the effort spent to maintain a particular lifestyle, however false this might really be in all actuality… trite self-delusion of ultra-human-type literal mind, to take heed to take warning, and come out of the whole ordeal as though the sparkling clean maestro of the eso-meta-physical… nothing cures the whirl of social anxiety like the dual effects of herb and lager… this too slows function rationale down a little for the jester to become the more efficient in being annoying and obnoxious in the extreme, as the conscious mind relaxes in its logical pursuits, and the passionate soul would rather overtake the emotions of the carnal beast… the sluggish inner dimension blown wide open for the furnace chamber it is, the heart centered at the top of the ribs, and the pulse a dead beat rising in rhyme to the reason twisting the corpse alive… the labyrinthine threads through which the needle eye accepts only a few, the straws that break the camel’s back, and your mother becomes suddenly struck awake and alive as well… up through that rotted birth canal which we all jettison through, the womb has no other choice than to obey the fist, this the where the creative purge comes in handy, so-to-speak… the Slow Children are not necessarily retarded children, but merely socially unacceptable mental cases to some degree, this is the haunting realism to the situation currently prescribed the vacant mind through a spastic reflex media… condemning the softness with a militant edge, the soldiers who know nothing and want for nothing other than the next fight, and the excerpt for straight uni-dimensional reality that has underlined “conform or die!!!” is too perfect a mantra to be real in the grand spectrum of all wavelengths together… at once reborn and born for the very first time Here on the mortal plane, at first the mindless sensate vessel oblivious to the world at large, and then in the the next phase of life as creatures learning to cope with all the various cruelties inherent in this fleshly gore… these strange commandments control and condemn the soul to harsh and unyielding rebuke, devil’s advocate i play to wield the persona with the particular graces of charisma and spectacular faith in the ways i work the judicial system, but i am not going to accept just any certain reality that makes too many things a simple rotting finale to the whole process… the family togetherness is what i am looking for when i think of my pet projects, many ends of the same concept holding the uniform appearance intimately connected, but maybe my hopes are too far set into the future…

Pissing on life's poor model.

the challenge being to maintain this awkward place of frequent imbalance, displaced by the constant shifting in the emotional sands, and left to murder our own myths as the scope requires us in hind sight… the shortcomings work the nerves with disgusting and rejected fervor, a reckless restless heartbeat of broken and tired urges, and mocking the wiles of the domesticated gist dedicated by the simplistic servile units the world wants us to become… why hyde the syde that frees your mynd, and these are the factors that tense and relax mutual respect for mind and body as the dynamic forces ebb and flow through me, we are gradually compacting into the earth as we naturally break down… digested by the world in what seems to us like lifetimes all at once through varying layers separated by a linear acceptance of what is… i have to confess up to my fair share of the mess, though, i must realize that there is no justification or good excuse in avoiding my responsible weight no matter how i try to look inside of my heart… to disguise the problem still just leaves the space for pain and guilt and epic wastes of energy… the wheels of a mystical complex given to static claims in the conundrum of real time haste… struck with trying to define for myself the definitions that are already there, which we are all grinding away one at a time in too many directions to count easily, and the seesaw sides flip left and right as the progress narrows and then widens in bursts too quick to capture the method to enslaved in anything but hindsight… when we are seeing history lie to us all outright, we figure we can disapprove of it the next half of the moment, but until then we are focused solely upon the outcome… underneath the crevice of everyday simplicity, the start of artistic resonance when it is already too difficult to gauge for an all or nothing worthwhile reaction, and to all those people never met who will be so into my vision once in stages of completion….I love you all… even if we never visit again this rich and splendid foulmouthed fountain called earth, i will champion this halfbreed attempt at humanity, but only as the ephemeral mood has hit me in the burning candle of life….the incandescence is bright and intense from inside, but once outside the center of the flame, the universe might seem expansive quite objectively to one with the eyes to see it from that distance… where the flame resembles the calescence of our cosmic solar star game, and humanity crawls upon but one planet circling graciously and pseudo-synchronously with the other hulking masses still, waiting and influencing the drama as it begins unfolding through us and the rest of the environment...

Dandy lyin'.

trying to break through barriers that build the stereotypes that plague the intense interactions between people, formed at first as a means of defense, and then turned into masks to seal others away at arm’s length… scurrying past the gated fates, an exit to one aspect of life to enter another state planed and scraped away, tipping the scales in favor of return to the state of intuitive strength… the matted mane of hair in the eyes, the stage opened up wide as you try and fail to hyde the syde that styles your pryde, but why even seek the need to obfuscate the mind’s eye?… with all the weight we each carry, it is an impossible act to accept and admit when one is corrupted through being another chemical missionary, and the company pharmacopoeia tries to sap the brain and energy necessary to break the cycles of pain… to generate a thought from the organic transmitter lodged with electrical impulses to run the circuits, chemical mechanisms moving without word, but merely the right frame of insight to guide an escape through the days… from either end of the gamut there is an unresolved tension that creates the dynamic between the matter-bound beings on one hand, the immaterial souls on the other residing in the ephemeral deep, and the matter-dwelling spirits in the middle of this cosmos in constant flux… even as the trick of the pilcrow is remembered by some to be utilized to start a new train of thought, but Here it all comes together as one thing, the literal substance of the real… the senses reveal the jumble that surges through our minds, like wild dogs trying to tear a peace for ourselves, with stars in our eyes we walk a thin line… unable to see, feeling out blindness, but what drives us but the madness to strive to do better things… feeling dead inside the zombified stride of hollowed out wallowing in pity and frustrations, using up the vital energies of others too close with concern for ignorant pleas, but feeling either the stunned or stoned modes of the human disease in functional persuasions lacking straight-forward communications… the reckless abandon into the feckless microcosm, the soul or spirit is random as we are filled with some idea of the essence, and sometimes i cannot believe it has come to this point… why the human animal reeks of the immature opinion, the assumption beyond question, and why life has to seem neat or clean or simple?… we are all at fault, working with what we are trained with, and letting others know the superior standard common sense has arrived… the awful ways that work into fits the weaknesses we work our lives to fix, those subtle silent floating patterns baring dread fruit to despair their minds again, but no art works as hardly ever as the art of art itself…