…such
horrifying resistance, our casual philosophic, while electricity becomes
Gotham; our battles by chapters, our pineal exercises, our exorcised deep
possession; so frank at times, living as a desperate creature, while this
element for elements prevents those elements; of course, those normal desires,
our homes, our children, our best-friend; in this vicious insecurity, waging
wars upon reflections, where too much of essence becomes a horrifying mirror;
our mind-physics, as esoteric integers, sweeping and mopping taking
preventative measures; reported in that sense, irked in several areas, while
subject to a hunch in a cultic arena; surely, I babble, looking down at earth, plummeting
rapidly: those icy patches or this filmy residue or those unborn forecasters…. I
remain shocked, peering into structure, amazed by circumstance; too provoked to
see, too indebted to scream, or realized as an unwilling participant; or maybe
such this difference, if it remains on its course, it becomes too inveterate to
relock; that old person, seated on its balcony, watching, writing, and stirring
old affections; this ancient creature those ancient potentialities where a
person loses access to reasoning properties. So, managers keep spy, and
overseers participate, where something is quick its underground science; to see
and distinguish, or to operate and demand, as something becomes a bit unobvious;
this tragic understanding, this relational responsibility, where we sense
something has been buried: this internal imitation, this full person
embodiment, where one relocks fire but one is uncertain about its duration.
…those
horrifying tragedies, where it was handled improperly, while each wishes to
remedy the afore-missions, or one is eager for unyielding power; either/or,
bliss must be monitored, while pure injustice must be rerouted; this tale of ‘those
people’, this archaic manifestation, often unlocked through drug usage and
severe brain overhaul; where one is tortured, or forced to sympathize, while
excuses are built to protect the subject’s consciousness; so rare is one
connected, so rare is one moral, or more regularly, one is absolutely
unfeeling; such tragedy bliss, to exist as an unfeeling agent, but one runs a
tragic risk; this person laughing, but a hint is maniacal, or one senses a
deeper space—those places in faraway dreams, those written and unspoken
genetics, where such a person becomes an aphrodisiac; but ours is something
simple, a man resistant of persons, for each comes with something theology can’t
reach; or this desire for community where each operates at a psych’s capacity
while thrust’d, destroyed, and delivered into ethic holiness; this ‘thing flame’,
as monitored closely, where one can go ways forbidden by science: those
travesties are too large, we can’t take that risk, while newness means change….
We met
in a situation, I was undergoing a personal journey, and reality was aware of
this repeated history. It has become its length, while a creature is never
normal, but such abnormalities are at once provocative; these compartments in
psyches, this entrance either by invite or trespass—this other existence; our
terrestrial disenchant, our extra-science so enthralling, where one has had a
good run at it; but something is watched, elements are contained, where a few
are worthy to be trusted with this curriculum; so natural it is, but often
guided by anger and pain, where those inversions might become pure holiness;
indeed, we surmise, indeed, we’re at the water cooler, but imagine why one
becomes a new experience; we aren’t such characters, we dance mostly in
silence, and It never happened before; this irrational logic, this
refuted in court logic, while something pops into our pineal memories: an
image, a face, or a misspoken sentence; for strength was rechanneled, delusions
are few, and though somewhat stronger, one can feel deep alterations.
