Tuesday, February 25, 2014

Victims of Generalization: Exploits of a dark matter technician, Part TwO

Ruining it for the Rest of Us


I tend to push myself much too hard in ways that I don’t have to. We are certainly in this together, this phase, this period and existence. This is the blue age, borne of ghosts and the yellow sun. The powers that be don’t know the discontent, how could they and how could they be?

        I will get my point across at all expense and little cost. A sacrifice situation where we can have it all but not all at once and in this moment. The truth is made of fiction, it lies in vegetative fruition. Here we are with sharp pain and flavour, brilliant light and excruciating headspace. The armature is lost to the text, the harm is justified as a test.
       
The other half of acceptance is letting go, a double negative without a name. The certainty of unlawful terror is upon us all as we push on without recourse of patterned circumstance. Sometimes it went without saying, the care we were granted and subjected to, seemingly with little question or regard. The smallest voice is lost in the dark, shrinking like the paranoid flame.
       
Exactly how great can this world really be? Who decides? Is it just a matter of time before we reach our place to shine? I don’t believe in my own solitude as my words constitute the finest line between past and future, a rocky one with countless tribulations. Each story still in its pages outlines certain diction and then tension, every fleeting persistence is a mutual love of desperate coherence, for it is still only true if one feels it as they hear it and then compute enough to describe thus as such that they may say they are more than merely alive, that we may be convinced.

In the outdoors

       
You know the content quality based on the captions, their opinions, if it’s live or if they’re trying to win you over, if the company cares or the caption writer, if they’re a man, woman, or machine. Victims are everywhere but at least they’re getting Paid. Who knew when we were younger that we’re actually half of an awesomer animal? I believe in conspiracy which is increasingly harder to admit but it’s really the only way to protect an investment, a good idea. It’s really happening more often than not if it’s happening at all. Where are we on the ecliptic right now? Are there witches living in your neighborhoods or only their safeguards, because you’re a moneymaker, because you have family? Are you angry and you don’t know why? There are powers in play that we still don’t realize, because if anything not just as above so below. 2 is just as much as we can handle in that regard, in the context of 2.
        And who knew that originality and cliche really just come down to whether this is happening, happened, or will happen, what are the chances? A gambler only has to win once and infinitely more losses because who is to say?
        Nothing is what it was anymore and forever so cherish it while you’re old and dying in the limelight by yourself, we’ll all get our chance to prove our point and time only tells our failings. Nothing matters and it is nobody’s, we intrinsically understand beauty because it plays upon an undiscovered part, works in mysterious ways, and its all been said before but this time it’s for you so you know its more important because they won’t and will not be the same, they don’t spin gold like they used to.

Sexy Time Chauffeur


        Public education is a [valuable waste] because everyone wants to be a genius but nobody is. They should have to go through it because we went through with it and so on.
          Everything I took for granted is still with me, subtlely. We have met in the middle as usual, as often as I have called.
          Subtle inflection, I have no basis to understanding. I do not want to be retaught, but if I must I am expected of any regard. I am not yet ready to feed my enemy’s children, for we too have been made to suffer by the invisible promise that we will and do and must go on, the song inevitable, the desire compromised.
          I had forgotten how a universe works, at the exact cost of why. I too believe in conspiracy, that I am left to die alone in the best way possible, and that means never again. Where is your hurry? At home where you left it of course, it was too nice this morning to deal with such a contraption.
          We are relatable because we want to be. If you were a spider I would be a spider and we would fuck the little bugs because that’s what they’re known for. Their inescapable two-dimensional spiral. The contrast is even harder to avoid. They never seen this coming, the once in a lifetime exposure that comes with a morning of regret. You try too hard. Take your shoes off and have a beer. The molecules are less metallic than those from the tap though they are less clear and therefore more untrustworthy.
          I believe in silence as a way to say something just and without meaning. STOP FREAKING OUT you have a lot of good ideas that aren’t going nowhere, you’re putting yourself through too much pain for the sake of a double negative. Only weeds grow here so we import goods on trucks and ships that are refridgerated and not very fast. It’s only a joke if you get it, then it’s a story that’s better taken sitting down with low overhead light and a place to bounce ideas off or at least record them for future generations. I am left handed and I am writing with my left hand with red ink at 6 in the morning on kitchen paper and ROYALS and BLURRED LINES are not by Katy Perry.
       

































The Transient Solicitor from Guatemala at 12:30 am

       


Do you even know why you came here tonite? This perception of yours where respect and consideration fail to meet, well I will not let you get away with it. I don’t care much of your insight and disposition yore wasting my time. Sure you can come in out of the cold, take your shoes off and you will not get them back.
       Do you want a drink? Hot or cold? I will make a compromise as I go, incorporate the excrement to the Sacred Place. I found it a nuisance before the necessity and obligation but now I see you’ve got nowhere to go and this is what my handwriting really looks like.
       You should not care to make those sorts of generalizations. You will not let me leave because you don’t understand me and what I’m doing here. This is your house and I want it.
      
      
      
I’m not sure if the first solicitor is meant to be there as a part of regress, or a simple interrupt.
          Distractions around every corner. I don’t like this one. They have an air about them that is so. . . violent. We will not get along.
          This Job is your job, this Job is my job, from pickin garbage, to pickin options, from all the small ones, to all the pawn shops, this job was made for you and me.

objective of the DMT

       The darkness of silence, I have taken the liberty of knowing how it will end. I see a little bit of it within each and everything that surrounds me. This is right. This is how it was supposed to be and could not be any other way. My inflection may only be met by my intention.
       You didn’t have to tell me about wasting time. I was thinking about going on a diet. The kind that fixes the spirit, the soul. It’s nothing to be afraid of but must be nourished because there are a lot of small people in this world who are a lot of talk and they must be fed if we expect them to keep quiet.
       So give them something good to watch, over and over, so they may understand and it doesn’t have to be loud or distracting or bright or intelligent. It needs a place, a time and place, a person and a time and place with something to do, somewhere to go and something to see. They do not yet realize that with every ladder climbed one must come back down and it takes more than nothing to do so. Somewhere between something and nothing, which could be approximately one or zero, or two. But definitely at least one.

       It has to happen 99 times for the sake of understanding. We know the difference between one and zero, but what they have in common might be nine, and then somehow eleven makes sense, ten times. But only as nine. Nine times. In the ones place. And the zero.

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