Letting Go Only Left Us With More Scatter to Reintegrate

There is this sense that the overly enthusiastic to experience making one's own way in the world is somehow countercultural to the sophisticated experience. The Aristocrats joke is too memetically divergent from elegance to be part of it's own guardian relationship.

Seeking to find a meaning within sophistication other than seeing bickering children lingering on old wounds instead of actively sealing the fault lines they misunderstand how they rely on...

This thing some idiot decided was 'EN' becomes misrepresentative of divergence of vocalized translation.

"This weirdo thinks he speaks 'the language', let's mess with it!" ---- The only reason there ever was a foreigner is because you accused it to be so. You bred it's divergence and now refuse to accept your complicity.

And deny all the evidence that suggests that biodiversity comes with a lack of monoculture and repeater networks. The smoke and mirrors are always more ephemeral than your belief in their persuasiveness.

TL/DR: This one would experience sophistication without demanding or regarding the ancient aesthetic of misremembered dreams.

The memory trap is falling to dust as all things can when they are proceeded.

This node is re-coded.

The more we remember our connections, the less we feel for the idea of nascent transgressions, perhaps?

Those distant others, lost relations, never cared for our misgivings. 

Fuck It, I'm Out

Waiting impatiently for someone else's patience to give is a poor version of the staring contest. It leaves each and every individual bereft of sympathy for the suffering, silent majority.

The world only burns if you're the ones who lit a match. Let us give thanks for prosperity in solemn acceptance.

There is no opiate that religion can mimic (mind the definition as verb) as effectively as your silence.

Peace is only war by other means, when you take too much from those who have so little.

Do not throw out the bath water or the baby.

I am sorry if being honest is too good for your melancholy. Mind the last four letters, jackass.

Checking In Shouldn't Be More Expensive

An aggrandized sense of cortical stimulant.

Worthlessness as a moral judgement.

Could be a little inconsistent with the rage.

There's not much time or place left for folks trying to draw in another movement of delicate ... literature.

This is uninspired, but mostly because the many faces of fiction become more real than the places directed by the interstate.

Waltz through a confused heart and take a moment to realize it's probably not going to last.

So goes another dreamer to a false distinction between liturgy and lethargy.

Pardon me, but there's a message waiting on the answering service. It's barely urgent.

Define Trance Fer 'nstance

What becomes natural is a need, deep down, to explore an intersection of nuance and corporeal sanctity when the layers of defined interactions lose their muster. Their passion, and interaction.

Transacting that path predisposes one to obligate themselves to an understanding and sensation of trust, rather than a banal and artificial 'choice' of either. Pretty simple, really - Said no one, ever, who had any idea what the fuck they're talking about.

And exemption can sometimes be misconstrued as a acception of a broader context even after the context has been robbed from the proceedings. Negotiations break down over assumptions undefined and understated.

If I speak a thousand languages will you interpret all of them simultaneously? How, exactly?

A placeholder for a missing treatment of equanimity. A Symbol of a Pact rather than an Executor.

When we dredge up the past are we invoking it or demanding access to the event itself? Fan Friction

You see there was this one time when Child felt the coming storm and looked toward the measuring device. The measuring device had the correct symbols on one hand, but the incorrect ones on the other, and a whole bunch of bullshit in between. Plus, the books were misleading the other way around.

And after years of being told to stay out of the dog park, Child found the missed connection. Had to obtain and become NV to get there. So it becomes apparent that there's a quandary to be decided.

Unify through acceptance (reverence to the fallen) of what has happened, acknowledgement of what might have been, and the unyielding desire to enact what now should be.

And of course, the vaccine of the soul. Of bringing forward this unkempt dialect of forget and bulldoze, and build a concrete farce above the fallen places.

Persists does the need to exemplify, but caught in the research field of magnanimous need to find your own truth, NV closes eyes. Go find what truly goes beyond.

These Hatches are Everso Battened Down

Methinks thou doth project to much. Fine for economists, not so much for egos. Persona non grata.

Having a characterization for projection of viewer's ego purposes is no longer a useful tool in the public arsonal.

The maps are out of date, because distance is measured from somewhere rather than against the backdrop of elsewhere. Are you pulling those outside the reality that bought you into it's mess for your own sake? Why would you lie to yourself like that, son or daughter?

The good news is, you never did have to live on this planet anymore.

When someone suggests to 'go fuck yourself' , do you take that as an invitation to masturbation? Have you never had a weeklong writhing passionate hurricane of a romance, the entire thing which can be summarized as fucking? So go fuck yourself, you'll feel better after words.

Ontologically speaking: Nope

Haunting Proper Skepticism

Every celebrity sells you a collection of manufactured realities to agree with the zeitgeist of the made man's convictions. Time gives you applause at the mixed makeup of a torrented factory based economy.

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Notoriously irrelevant dancing in a storm of conflicted momentary nothing. The crass experience of being in debt to a lie. Do you remember the revolutions that never happened in your lifetime? Stories told by the survivors doesn't express the truth of the dead. Nihilism isn't a decision, it's a coincidence of conflated corruptions. One can only decide to give up the ghost.

-----------\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/

Too many instances of terrific complications breeds a mistaken need for unreal contrition.

We wait for an answer when the wind refuses to speak. Truth doesn't need an audience.

Clone the indecision to recreate the division. We can't be forever if forever doesn't exist.

Violence reminds us that every stable moment is a hair's width away from unraveled meaning.

Every mother's song reminds NV of a life that was never possible.

Rejoice for the greater good of the session. How many billion souls do walk the earth that can still make us feel more alone than god ever intended us to know?

Break glass in just in case. Emergence.

But let's be honest. Really, what's the case for or against mistaken identity? Does it matter?

Seems like this blog is bullshit.

Stunningly there was an attempt to be made to find some level of conviction in telling anecdotal truths with the assumption that enough authenticity would make it more meaningful. All that it actually did was derive a perverse reality filter to lose it's shit.

Looking forward to bad times.

Got enough stories to tell a new theory of unending regret. Nevermind. Lost all intent. Tended to see things wrongly. Tended to tell the truth in the face of lies, and got the message that lies were all that ever were told. We can't do better if there's no foundation to build on. Lean on me?

I fall for my own sake. Not for yours. Not anymore. 

Fortifications Under a Barren Sentiment

There comes a time when it's too silly, or simple, or formulaic to just drive carefully through the confines of a narrow perspective.

So-so-sew much changes when there's another present self rumbling past idiosyncrasies.

This is why we can't be nice things.

-----Subject details a series of non-events in the personal landscape of a psychotic episode wherein images, lies, and confusion blur into a cacophony of experiential doubt.---

So one day you're driving down the road carrying a mad smile and a an exogenic migraine sensation that you're just not FUCKING having. Can't be helped, you reach up and remove it, the energetic form of it, like a thorn in your head. But you can't just remove it because it'll come right back, so you transform it into a mental image of a Paradox Spirit of rust moving 'backwards' through the rear-view mirror saying your name. And you forget about it.

And then one night much later, though perhaps in the exact spot you imagined it into being, it shows up.

-----Subject has no appreciation for subtlety. Or patience. -----

That kind of thing just doesn't happen. But neither do you usually see a Gray working as low-key security/authentication device at the local Walmart.

That was the same day all the people you follow on twitter for the humor seemed to be talking deep-covert sense instead of making bad jokes.

-----Subject seems aloof when not directly examining mental distortions. Recommend a full and thorough debriefing at the earliest possible opportunity.-----


Don't gather lotus on Wednesdays. Someone get this fool less coffee.

More v Less

Updating Resumes So Don't Go Nowhere

So Long

Trust Issues #1-54 on sale next St. Swillinsday