tagged w/ abstract stories?
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Fallacies poured from the mouths of men, I could sympathize with the devil more than I could with them. "This is the twenty first century".
Introspect. And the shadows shift with the wind in the night, which dances with the branches of trees now bare in the yellow-white light of your neighbors lamps. And you sit alone amongst those random faces in all the houses stretched out across the landscape to account for each mind thinking and feeling, each body breathing and stealing. So who are you among the multitudes? What is it you account for in the minds solitude stretched out before yourself? What are all the things you hold in your knowledge hidden from all others? All of the actions in your history, what do you they add to your experience of growth?
Sick and tired of the plastic. Completely lacking in substance. Curves and muscles and bullshit corspuscles comprised of vanity. Anxiety defects of this nervous society of airbrushed blemishes fake gestures and fake faces. Our souls are on the assembly line of mass productions.
Destroying the essence. A violently vulgar desiccation of that which is real and you can't even recognize it. And that is to say, this goes vastly past these parameters. This pestilence has been creeping like a cancer into every facet of human life. We are destroying our souls. Where is the love? Falling so fast breathing and not alive. Constants in cosmetic guise. What are you hiding from?
So many of us are robots. These numbing injections of modern things getting us off, rewiring our minds and crushed under this sloppy discipline. Fast food, frozen food nation. Fuck every orifice and forget how it even felt, fucked your own self and even asked for help, as you figured anyone would get off as well and surely they will. Spirit choked off under the stale taste of degradation. Get it all as fast as each thought slips away. Fuck, eat, sleep, ignore every sign. Numbed as so signs don't even present themselves anymore. Can you remember how it felt to be a child? Do you remember what you thought life was all about? We all slip across this viscous film of fog stretched thick across our faces. Not using our inherent strengths to break away. There are pieces of us in these trees, in these things that breath. There are pieces of these things in the parts of us that breathe. The sun is out and yet people lay in artificial boxes of ultraviolet radiation. Malls of Amerika, endless strips-of-malls. Chains of restaurants and each link is the weakest to make you more gluttonous. Consumerism chokes us. Where is this human evolution taking us? To what will we adapt? We create fears and worry, insecurities and anxieties in complete vanity.
The life we waste in such bad taste is a disgrace to the grace we are imparted with. Departed if we asphyxiate the way in which we travel in the spirit. The beautiful memories we taint with actions of the present presence of prescience. These vibrations are growin' ever stronger and they rattle your nerves in subtlety, yet this intensity screams in your face only to reach you through the ether as whispers.
Hypochondriac nation...Diseases of industrial evolutions. Anxieties, depressions, obsessive compulsions, attention deficits. Billion dollar pharmaceutical corporation business. And we all know what the business of Amerika is. FDA approved cancerous tumors. Such pointless endless patterns of a self contained prison. Self-slaves stare at the television. And mouths are sealed. Unending lies from all directions. And we still try to call this a democracy. An imperialist nation sells democracy in the name of blatant unchecked capitalism hiding behind democracy. Greed machines. And the drug companies keep us all sedated. And so called "food" corporations keep us all fat and unhealthy. And the media keeps our brains washed clean. T.V., fast food, drugs, consumerism to keep you all sedated. We've turned our back on what we came from. Our essence, our spirit, the God of this world, this universFallacies poured from the mouths of men, I could sympathize with the devil more than I... more
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Every sense waxes over the timelessness of memory. Time is a way to tell you that space is not set and energy forms to your will. Will your will be strong enough? We think time is an ends to a means, means that have no end to beget. For time begets all things and the moon's face smiles upon it all in its sleepy milky glow. The language of time is written upon the wraiths of the moon's light. We think the sun travels in time with our wasteful routines while we spin and watch the cycles of life. (There are places on this flotation device of gravity that have no mystery influence of night.) Like the midnight of a childhood. And time only slowly rolls away like traveling through the damp dark halls of your mind, not a verdant green moss of damp mind caves but a darkened brown earthly wise, wizened moss of mind, or maybe vice versa for time reaches in every direction. Caressing dreams as space's caress of time is torn away like carving sand in a profound wind. Carved like drifting snow on blowing embankments. "We know time" & "God has no qualms either way" So there is no necessity in worry whatsoever. So what is it now then? Is it that everything that happens in this too-sorrowful world shall happen and you just have to accept the opposing forces and do what you can. Or do you realize your own influence of force and that of every individual and realize your energy can cause a definite effect. Classic effect of rippling tides.
The midnight of a childhood. Innocence in the dark. Such deprived lonely unholy circumstances we bring ourselves to know. Like dampened flames our dancing glow fades away through a shallow growing, like roots that have no space to trace, to disembark, to travel and divide. Fallacies poured from the mouths of men, I could sympathize with the devil more than I could with them. "This is the twenty first century".
I am the coyote howling in the night. And the moon hangs to float huge and blood orange bright above the horizon. And the howls ricochet off its scattered, somber face.
Hypochondriac nation...Diseases of industrial evolutions. Anxieties, depressions, obsessive compulsions, attention deficits. Billion dollar pharmaceutical corporation business. And we all know what the business of Amerika is. FDA approved cancerous tumors. Such pointless endless patterns of a self contained prison. Self-slaves stare at the television. And mouths are sealed. Unending lies from all directions. And we still try to call this a democracy. An imperialist nation sells democracy in the name of blatant unchecked capitalism hiding behind democracy. Greed machines. And the drug companies keep us all sedated. And so called "food" corporations keep us all fat and unhealthy. And the media keeps our brains washed clean. T.V., fast food, drugs, consumerism to keep you all sedated. We've turned our back on what we came from. Our essence, our spirit, the God of this world, this universe. Consuming such vast amounts of completely uneccesary things. We kill ourselves. We fall prey to these plastic mechanical vultures we create with our own hands. "I hear the planet crying". This American empire is coming to an end quickly through the universe. And like most empires it will have been our own undoing. Such incredibly complex traps we have fashioned through the vices of human nature and intelligence.
Do not judge but harshly. Perniciously delicious. Inspiration or a simple decision? A creeping apathy. A faint feeling of fading passion. If reality exists in the memory alone then space and time's relation are as strong as the most dense of planets. Density soon set to explode like a black hole. Sedimentary sentiments. Fading intelligence. A thick fogging of thought. An apathy sparking atrophy or vice versa? And if atrophy be the former and not the latter what then hadst spark'd him?
Such sad and tender nights. Such frightful, frivolous, lusty delights. Such unheard of insights. (April is blooming bright with such malignEvery sense waxes over the timelessness of memory. Time is a way to tell you that... more
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It is but in trembling faith we do retire. Fashioning traps for thought as barracks for actions. And this sun falls hard and hot on this April's day. Patterns slowly shifting. Puffy garlands of blank affectations. Conversations with bees. Pillowy billowing viscous tendrils of sweet pollunated honey suckling stamens to convert through diversions. Do you consort? young honey bee. "God has no qualms either way". Do you buzz off and away? Or do you stay to turn your back and poison me thusly. And when you do i'll still drink your honeyed combs to see and feel completed through some siamese cycle. Hither and thither you don't swell me young honey bee, though swell be your pillowy billowing viscous soft tendrils. Oh sweet pollination. How are thee oh quarreling cousin? These killer's bees. These see'rs over seas. Such excitable rageful entities. Oh, these killing bees. Swarming around my head like a halo's breeze. So distant honey bee, floating to glide and dance on the sun's unwavering rays, and but only for such fleeting moments as these.
Ethereal angels of thought lost in the labyrinth of my mind. The physical and the spiritual; the material and the unseen are one and the same. Existing not separately but mutually, forever permeating and enriching one another.
A complete lack of appreciation. Tides traversed. We fool ourselves; we fool each other. Pay attention in closeness and find will you of intervals as such irregularity can bear thee. Tides in redundancy will turn. As blighting of future's futures to each other henceforth we must go. Our's for stars have crossed in the fluid flow of their milky influence. A destiny as accidental. And oh to regret as does the consequence of these mishapen forms of chaos. And dear happenstance; unmade beds which keep our rest to unkempt rooms while we sleep abreast, to dusted breath and dreary skies in the foreboding dawn our dreams do collide.
For false intentions, whose flight doth take
God's good grace hath never before create.
Upon this face a none truer love
In such fleeting rest; God's good dove.
What hath this fervor continued to reveal?
Oh fool's fortune! Oh fortunes fool!
Where are the new pioneers? Pretended portentousness, surreptitious usurper!
~~~~~~~~~~ems2009It is but in trembling faith we do retire. Fashioning traps for thought as barracks... more
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...and I'll say it once again, for this has come full circle and this madness grows ubiquitous; this story never ends. Incarcerate this habituation to free these growing intentions of a tormented life. I will try to say this is all coming together. Magne Cum Laude. This withstands against pretentiousness, whatever it is you witness it's probably insufficient, deficient. This is me keeping a promise. This is me and maybe it's bad timing but you're only hiding. Trying to bide your time, trying to rewind the circumstance. By happenstance you fell right at my feet. We fall at each other's feet. Once again it's back down upon the line of faults. And I will certainly dare to cross that needle-hair pin attempting to puncture our eyes. I have come to the point of fighting this cold which has some how reached the marrow, in the foreground of times past it couldn't even get skin deep. How long will it keep? What are the ramifications? We stand adjacent from the corners of our eyes, trying to brush away the dust of apathetic notions. Potions of chemistries which control this being rush ever more in consummate patterns of confusion.This flow is unbreakable. Thoughts will manifest through timidity as actions manifest ten fold for you to hold onto the dream of what your life will become. Count every second, every minute, every day its takes to get to Now. Or don't. You are a broken promise to the realizations of every glorious, chorded thread of space. Maybe we just forgot about Him. This story never ends.
You keep all the negative vices of childhood while blindly giving up passion and feeling......and I'll say it once again, for this has come full circle and this madness... more
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Build up on the inspiration, or lack thereof. Stagnation creeps and crawls through rooting like that of tumorous ventricles. Malignant growths begin to overwhelm and suffocate. Such things completely lacking in significance resign them selves as completely significant, taking control and consuming each thought and action. Who are we and what have we become?
Sick and tired of the plastic sexual. Large tits and big dicks.Tight cunts and orgasm stunts. Completely lacking in substance. Curves and muscles and bullshit corspuscles comprised of vanity. Anxiety defects of this nervous society of airbrushed blemishes fake gestures and fake faces. Our souls are on the assembly line of mass productions.
Destroying the essence. A violently vulgar desiccation of that which is real and you can't even recognize it. And that is to say, this goes vastly past these parameters. This pestilence has been creeping like a cancer into every facet of human life. We are destroying our souls. Where is the love? Falling so fast breathing and not alive. Constants in cosmetic guise. What are you hiding from?
Thoughts tangle only to disentangle through a force of continuity
Yet you can not find what you are looking for through your imbroglio of granular through processes. Synapses all firing and misfiring through irregular intervals. And yet, still these words you manage to find all fall together in such fragmented disarray, only, they fall in such magnificent wonders of forms to inform of what your essence beholds.
And the snow falls. So build upon the wraiths of inspiration, the ghost, the soul, the ethers of transposition. Come fourth from your stagnant disposition. Just fucking listen. The essence of life transmits and flows to permeate through each and EVERY thing.
by. Evan SchulzBuild up on the inspiration, or lack thereof. Stagnation creeps and crawls through... more
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Build up on the inspiration, or lack thereof. Stagnation creeps and crawls through rooting like that of tumorous ventricles. Malignant growths begin to overwhelm and suffocate. Such things completely lacking in significance resign them selves as completely significant, taking control and consuming each thought and action. Who are we and what have we become?
Sick and tired of the plastic sexual. Large breasts and big dicks.Tight cunts and orgasm stunts. Completely lacking in substance. Curves and muscles and bullshit corspuscles comprised of vanity. Anxiety defects of this nervous society of airbrushed blemishes fake tits and fake faces. Our souls are on the assembly line of mass productions.
Destroying the essence. A violently vulgar desiccation of that which is real and you can't even recognize it. And that is to say, this goes vastly past these parameters. This pestilence has been creeping like a cancer into every facet of human life. We are destroying our souls. Where is the love? Falling so fast breathing and not alive. Constants in cosmetic guise. What are you hiding from?
(Plain talk regards. Straight up. The vanity needs to stop. The over whelming self consciousness and lack of self esteem. We need to realize that the health and beauty of our soul is what shines through to make us beautiful. Not primping yourself in the fucking mirror for an hour or gelling your hair. Not coating your face with chemicals of cosmetic disguises. "It's what is on the inside that counts", not vice verse. And backwards logic gets taken so far that for past decades eating disorders evolve to form epidemics of anxiety. Little girls and grown women, little boys and grown men starving themselves, making themselves throw up, taking drugs that destroy appetites, destroying their health and their lives. All the while this cancer of American pop culture goes on throwing such vulgar, disgraceful nonsense in our faces incessantly. This goes well beyond sexuality. Vanity is everywhere. We care more about our fucking home appliances and our i phones then who the person next to us is or even what their name is. There is a complete imbroglio of twisted defects this culture has evolved to and continues to evolve into. Nervous systemics... America is being defined by anxiety.)
Thoughts tangle only to disentangle through a force of continuity
Yet you can not find what you are looking for through your imbroglio of granular through processes. Synapses all firing and misfiring through irregular intervals. And yet, still these words you manage to find all fall together in such fragmented disarray, only, they fall in such magnificent wonders of forms to inform of what your essence beholds.
And the snow falls. So build upon the wraiths of inspiration, the ghost, the soul, the ethers of transposition. Come fourth from your stagnant disposition. Just fucking listen. The essence of life transmits and flows to permeate through each and EVERY thing.Build up on the inspiration, or lack thereof. Stagnation creeps and crawls through... more
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I never said I was doing this for...you---So fall around your self and your assumptions. This selfishness grows unchecked in the face of your denial.
And just to do this kills the very essence of feeling which these words are meant to reveal. convey. expose. Repose. And maybe there's a little something missing in each of our lives, or even a lot for that matter. And it all ever remains a choice. With multiplying answers to rapidly growing factors and questions. So I'll right this write this right?? So I will put these words down too scared to be too honest in my actions. So may these actions show you what I mean in all honesty. Contradict through cowardice knowing the honor I had will get me to where I need to be. Possibly. Contradictions fall down upon this. It all remains a choice.
So there may be something, more or less, missing from our lives. These trees cut the air like the blood vessels vernacular, Nervoussssytemics. In every direction they travel in complete and immovable permanence. amongst the transience of these clouds. Look closely to see the essence which the sky takes in from all the faces having gazed with much more passion, with much more pain than your own. To touch or take the lives of many or to live/die without the things you truly need. To watch your family die in front of you. To be born with something inside that has already taken that which bore you and will soon take you in such slow agony. To have pieces of your body ripped off in the horrible mouths of beasts of fires of metal teeth.... So take it to grant it and forget it. Granted you can take it.
Instant gratification receiver modules. Plasma and liquid crystals. Cell phone brain tumor apparatus implants. Wireless printing convenience appliance facsimile in homes of chrome entanglements. Blend and toast and boast as host. (Peripherals cluttered and every where in between. So soak in the apathy of atrophy. Pick an addiction. Lost limbs and lost souls. Epidemic console plug in to each and every.)
Lost limbs and lost souls. Burnt hearts and charred intentions. Children. The fucking children. Will not some body think...of all the dead children. Centuries, decades of all encompassing greed machinery.
Take it all for granted""
All of these words are speaking (in)directly to (my)yourself. Giving every direction you would ever need. What are we doing with this space which time threads outwards upon our perameters?
ems2008I never said I was doing this for...you---So fall around your self and your... more
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In the soft cry of the breeze through the sky as the trees whisper secrets and dance to the melody of this mind, this is where you will find your answers. Watch the leaves fall. And I haven't sat in this chair for a while and here we will to speak of concrete things. Oh poor fool of folly falling upon a faltered grace miscommunication and temptation flood through the window of your perceptions. Misplaced inventions of the heart and soul creating misguided intentions through your actions. To capture and enthrall; a natural propensity to mesmerize. There is no escaping this essence which consumes you, watch the leaves fall from the trees of your imagination, these ventricle mimics are the maps of our lives just learn how to read them.
All of these days not one of them stays, all of these months and years, seconds, minutes and unnecessary fears. All of these intangible woven together ghosts of time and space, look upon all directions of your memory for you create it all; backwards, forwards and side to side, it all resides in your mind and your heart recaptures the reverberation each electric spark of a memory emits. It is not the explanation that will reveal you secrets but the singular essence that stands amongst the soul of these words.
Lost mothers and fathers, lost brothers and sisters, lost friends, lost and acquired enemies. Lost time, precious moments lost forever in the labyrinth of your mind, expressed in full conception, altogether rendered in separation on two planes of the mind, encapsulated in a whole. A complete and precise series of departures from the soul, a transitive song of solitude, a conduit of enchantment shorted through intangible currents, a longing which resides in the deepest caverns of my soul, an unbearable desire.
The slowly rolling crawl of the supple shifting seasons, the spring and summer, the fall and winter and all of the dreams that lie there in, the efflorescence of life through spring, the light rains of the summer with sun shining and rainbows binding and as it all begins to fall, autumn with its bright bleary, light dreary colors, all leaves gliding from trees in countless piled seas adrift in crisp cool breeze will show you the incredible necessary beauty of death and in death as we've died the white dream of winter befalls us as a great quilt of dreaming death. Under this quilt all the acquirements of the passing year, through all spiritual, mental and physical receiving take root and ferment and cement and petrify and through winter's end we awake from winter's dreaming death and that which has taken root grows furthermore in eternity to bloom through another spring and flash and blind and shine like a star and die as one once more.
You can't find what you need to put this together? Such trivial things that come to form through the dream of destiny. "To dream is destiny". So these seemingly trivial things which make up our lives certainly are not.
Oh quiet soft silk of silence
trace the shadows
along the walls
of your shallow intentions
The most crippling feeling of the loneliest accounts of a life time like cold empty roads and sad-sentimentality reminiscence torn through the irregular intervals upon the mast of the seasons within the seasons within our minds.
Keep your mind transient like
the river and the seasons
the weather and its reasons
our lives and treasons
E.M.S.~~~~~~~~~~~~~08In the soft cry of the breeze through the sky as the trees whisper secrets and dance... more
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Every age we ascend
Build upon the inspiration of each moment. Do not go falling ahead of yourself to pick up the pieces like a fucking metal detector. This essence flows ubiquitously with complete permeation through your heart, soul and mind.
It has caught up how many times now? Relapsing and delaying any certain sort of progress. Minds are very impressionable, what isn't? Emotion and perception shifting and changing in transience, each flashing electricity of our thoughts forever reacting to all the factors of dispense. Touch, see and behold.
Introspect. And the shadows shift with the wind in the night, which dances with the branches of trees now bare in the yellow-white light of your neighbors lamps. And you sit alone amongst those random faces in all the houses stretched out across the landscape to account for each mind thinking and feeling, each body breathing and stealing. So who are you among the multitudes? What is it you account for in the minds solitude stretched out before yourself? What are all the things you hold in your knowledge hidden from all others? All of the actions in your history, what do you they add to your experience of growth?
I've already forgotten what you said......Watch these forms falls and coagulate to transmutate through the ages.
So many of us are robots. These numbing injections of modern things getting us off, rewiring our minds and crushed under this sloppy discipline. Fast food, frozen food nation. Fuck every orifice and forget how it even felt, fucked your own self and even asked for help, as you figured anyone would get off as well and surely they will. Spirit choked off under the stale taste of degradation. Get it all as fast as each thought slips away. Fuck, eat, sleep, ignore every sign. Numbed as so signs don't even present themselves anymore. Can you remember how it felt to be a child? Do you remember what you thought life was all about? We all slip across this viscous film of fog stretched thick across our faces. Not using our inherent strengths to break away. There are pieces of us in these trees, in these things that breath. There are pieces of these (trees) in the parts of us that breathe.
And the harder the wind runs across the landscape and the faster these leaves flutter and dance the more this rhythm unfolds and the more my mind is lifted to the flight of this soul.
"I, the swan, am beautiful and exist in the space between" the space between where man may or may not fall. The space between your conceptions of beauty and the purest essence of this universe. We are descendants of the great magnet.
"All energy flows according to the whims of the great magnet."
All of the dreams you've forgotten through sleep, which still reside in your mind, will form through your essence to manifest in your actions and consequence.
"We must turn our boredom into gratitude. Use your thoughts, your words, your hunger, these things are yours and yours alone."
Every age we ascend. You could never guess. Who are we? What when written down in blood? All in vain desperation. Does God exist just to work for you?
E.M.S.~~~~~~~~~~`08Every age we ascend
Build upon the inspiration of each moment. Do not go... more
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The fact that so many people abuse drugs, synthetic or otherwise clearly presents many psychological, sociological, philosophical, and even evolutionary questions and insights. Where have we come from as a people and as individuals? There is always a yin to the yang. Positives replace the negatives and vice verse, the cycle of time will continue to undulate through infinity. Why can't we be sober? Are we all too unsure to have to press beneath this fogging of thought in such constant incapacitation. We hold ourselves against the world and say the world bears down with such unbearable force not realizing we all create our own weight, stumbling mockingly in awkward dances.
Your soul and mind flow as a whole with this universe. The sempiternal vastness of this world resides throughout your essence. You have full control of this fate, which rules you.
All of the memories we refuse with impartial resignation. "Our days are just unjustifiable and our nights are given only to forgetting" and these lonesome hollow droves form each night in wasted light and energy. As much as we pretend to be real we intend to feel inert through contending with this lonesome feeling. We are all so many of us blindly reaching and fumbling through this thick fogging, clear air just hairs out of reach.
The fact that so many people abuse drugs, synthetic or otherwise clearly presents... more
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After inhaling an ungodly amount of cocaine through this twisted and pathetic night my mind feels restless and confused. I need to sort this nonsense out. It was a typical Saturday night for a small suburban town of Pennsylvania and atavistic endeavors ran high.
An old friend of mine was back from school, which definitely calls for the entertaining of guests. The night started off with drunken violence; savages all feeding on alcohol cocaine and any other chemical of choice and I was surely about to dive into any one of those quite soon. I saw a few faces I hadn't seen in a while, exchanged long awaited hand shakes and bear hugs not long before joining Terry on the second floor to start off this little binge. A swarm of lust and vanity all around me. Few good people amongst these animals. Every room filled with faces projecting the same forlorn, underlying feeling to say what the fuck is really going on here? Not a whole lot bub, that's for sure. Maybe some individual plots growing between good friends and lost souls. Was there?
A whole crowd of intoxication in this foul year of our Lord. Kids all copulating and eating chemicals. A typical night for this town or probably any American suburb where the parents either don't care, are too tired to care or are doing the same fucking thing. Kids in high school eating hard drugs so easily acquired; through a friend, some kid at a party or school, even at home. Pops just got surgery because of a bad car accident and Doc prescribed a good strong pain killer, or your sister just got her wisdom teeth out and you get your hands on some Oxycodone. Forty to fifty dollars for eighty milligrams and instant addiction chromosome entanglements and unless you're a well off high school kid that's a pretty big bargain to be towin' for an oxy addiction, so you find some cheap heroin you can snort or even inject and kids start dying or coming too fucking close. It happens all around you and everyone has his or her hollow words to speak, diluted cares to toss around, putrid judgments and insipid remarks. In other windows of apathy and waste a similar thing happens with cocaine probably from the "gateway" drug Marijuana. (That's a specious remark). Irrational amounts of money pissed away on proverbially cut coke and maybe the funds run out or probably wont last long so you start asking around in collusive voices about crack because your locked in your ways of habitual neuron imprisonment.
We all stare in the face of deception and corruption as if to say "this isn't happening" "I'm not here". To pretend that the contending factors are means to an end, to laugh it off and worry about "me, myself and I". So how do we let it happen? It seems almost every one of us enjoys this fog and would rather kneel to breath it in with swollen eyes than keep our chins up and breath in the clear. Pharmaceutical companies creating stronger drugs to accompany drugs already on the streets with profits in the billions. Government officials and head ups stand idle in the shadowed loiter of payoffs. A complete imbroglio of twisted system reductions all mangled cogs and wires corroding and probing and puncturing out hearts, souls and minds.
These are only small factors in an overwhelming labyrinth of defected systems enveloping the urban areas, cities and ghettos, people living in frosted bubbles in the "Hills" or the Hamptons, people cooking Meth-Ampthetamine in theirs homes and billions around the world eating chemicals for any reason..........continue.
After inhaling an ungodly amount of cocaine through this twisted and pathetic... more
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keep pace amongst the wind....hearts are stomped upon by dirty dancing feet. hearts are torn apart with transparents gestures... hearts are held dearly in hands that will tell stories.. hearts project ever outward tying themselves with each glancing pass...and these heart strings pull tight as they give the mind a taste of what it is to be alive
Blank Conjectures Across Your Facade
So turn your faces inside out because were all trapped sitting here with minds collapsed. All the simple things you do. Explode; encroach and bloom. All things live to die. We are all dying to live.
this is for you if you know what this is
our faces caracatures of false reckoning and opaque gestures all the while we fall in distracted transparency around every action. And as we sit here in droves our hearts and minds transcend and permeate each and every other. floating through this ether our thoughts transmit and coalesce as they saturate in our eyes reforming through every violent moment............infinite transience through our minds.
............the wind speaks to you through the trees with great fervence. listen closely as it will give hints to your meaning....
The human mind constantly experiencing. An infinite influx a mass of permeation and absorbtion. Every experience defining; creating; building and forming.......... We are more than just characters. So awake from this infinite sleep, only you can be blamed for the paper mache foundations you create, stringing your life together like marionettes. So wake thyself from this sickly dance of a dream..ems
////a place in time a space a vision to waste. it screams for you to face for us to face this blinding disgrace////
dreaming themes
through this lens of dreaming themes.
this surely will define you.
we find peace inside of this.
all of your bastardized thoughts reach out and grab one to keep.
and all of your haphazard feeling will define you.
yes it will surely define you.
transmit and coalesce.
to permeate each and every other.
this essence is ubiquitous.
tell me now what you think youve spoken so clear
what are we? these are our fucking lives. in all seriousness now. should you take this so seriously?....these are our fucking lives. And our halos - that is to say this essence that tranmits from deep within our souls - dance and undulate above our minds; saturating your eyes.....who are we? intuitive dances. the wind sets the pace....schizophrenic discourse...so much we take for granted....and we dance, salivating through gesticulations..and we let them dance upon our hearts.....they wear nothing on their sleeves....beauty is hidden so clearly flowing from our hearts through our eyes.....we are burning...we are letting this burn...we burn ourselves....we fall down upon the line in distracted thought...forming through this violence.....our eyes are being pulled open through every instant....still you can not see....
this is all i can remember....what is left?....spoken softly through the distance....these ghosts are everywhere....ghosts of thought of feeling of souls.....our souls are ghosts.....wraiths trailing through each day leaving their mark on our being like thorns drawing blood....concentrate on this feeling and watch how it changes....each moment runs together pulling hearts tighter to gather the violence of this pressure....where does this end....it can not...i have no hold on myself as each moment runs together.
and this world is it dead in the end? no......we have become this. back down upon the line again we surface through old programs. our dreams unfold upon the future and we find these actions through memories of the past. we are all woven together inside of this ubiquitous soul. finding thoughts through the breeze all amongst your fervent caress.
.EMS.keep pace amongst the wind....hearts are stomped upon by dirty dancing feet. hearts... more
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The Moon Takes The Veil
The search for the meaning of life lies within itself. We are all one. Connections only weak. Too many of those who choose not to reach out. Void. The unknowing of the essence is the wonder of life.....
Insatiable brevity. A clouded grasp on a feeling infinitely ingrained in this heart. A substantial mist has spawned from something unknown yet hanging at the tip of my tongue. A deep laceration on the face of a universal soul. Undeterred synapses creating an imbroglio of tensing impulse. All it takes is action. So always act but never forget to think. That which is ingrained in our hearts weaving heart strings and connecting our souls. Our souls are pieces of a whole. And that feeling, that consciousness is what flows everlasting from every being permeating that which is permeable. Cataclysm is the action as it creates the action. Infinite and ubiquitous this energy, so affluent; so subtle. The birth of energy. The birth of life. The birth of thought. Infinite transience. What bore the original catalyst? So many who take no notice to these things unseen....
Forlorn galloping of the incomprehensive heart...Tickle the apathetic notion to death make it laugh so hard that it is forced to obliteration by the face of unspoken beauty. The beauty of life and this immaculate creation.
keep pace amongst the wind....hearts are stomped upon by dirty dancing feet. hearts are torn apart with transparent gestures... hearts are held dearly in hands that will tell stories.. hearts project ever outward tying themselves with each glancing pass...and these heart strings pull tight as they give the mind a taste of what it is to be alive
.E M Schulz.
The Moon Takes The Veil
The search for the meaning of life lies within itself. We... more
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We ignore every sign presented to us in such vastness. Every sign that tells us how to get to where we'll be. Yet we alway arrive at the exact spot we're supposed to. Our souls are Gods that write the stories of our lives before we are born. Souls born through umbilical connections to stars. And when we die our hearts, bodies and minds will have been the editors of these sempiternal stories.
There are people dying because there are others that hate. This is human. There are people that are living because there are others that love. This is human. There are things that die so that other things may live. This is Life.
We ignore every sign presented to us in such vastness. Every sign that tells us... more
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crooked hands and crooked eyes crooked paths and crooked minds. crooked ways crooked actions. broken indications of instabilities. we trace these echoes across the walls as they ricochet blindly through a certain chaos. blind folly of truths unheard spoken through an inaudible vernacular we pace inside the conduits of our minds as these heart strings strain mimicking the connections they weave inside ourselves saturating our souls. this is of the profundity of life. and so many have lost it deep with in themselves. they wear nothing on their sleeves. could you even attempt to say you don't feel this? this burning to get the fuck away from where ever we are. what it means to be alive. recognize that which permeates your being. we all dance in step with these irregular patterns of crooked pathways. stretch it out and wait call upon your intuition syncopate your thoughts through every action. people that assume will always do so in affluence...pieces of us break off and stamp themselves upon our nature unopposed to making each and every mark. we are the ghosts of space and time, wraiths trailing to make all the subtle reactions. crooked pathways no more. stretch it out and wait. is there a way to spell it all out for you. we all live in this collective ether. all the particles of our nature floating from the depths of time we have come to this. and what the fuck does it all mean. and we all travel with a vulgar lack of sight through our assumptions. everything we know we know not.crooked hands and crooked eyes crooked paths and crooked minds. crooked ways crooked... more
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And the pieces of us that break and float away dance and undulate through the ether as the actions of man strip away the beauty and these pieces fall towards the earth. Who are we? What when written down in blood. all in vain desperation. Connections build and connections die. And we impose ourselves upon this violence all in the name of a vulgar misinterpretation. Do you remember what the dawn had said as this glows throughout and around all up and down your eyes they tell a story of how we came to this point and whispers hints to where we're going. Towards the sky we run with desperate secrets to this desperate life. And they will forever be secrets for we know not how to speak them. The color of warmth is the color of death as is the color of life. Nothing could have prepared you for this......strange vibrations going for a long time now only getting stranger. All of these forces will always work for us as we are always working against ourselves. //ems//And the pieces of us that break and float away dance and undulate through the ether as... more
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An innate evil flowering through evolution through the human spirit what seed what root did it grow from?
And fate what the fuck is fate? All of these transient moments falling into place like infinite shards of stubborn glass traveling awkwardly in reverse to form this opaque myriad of transparent tendency.
So high above any kind of expectation we sort through this redundant transposition, an accumulation of confused perceptions that build upon each others egotistic actions so high atop this cracked and failing pedestal. We are all taught through mediocre personifications. Scavengers dance and stomp on the terra of your better nature and the pressure undulates as the angles makes their suttle acclimations a vapour that gives away your misplaced inventions of the heart and soul. This is the way it works this is the way it fucking works.
A raw blatant and unhindered consumption a gross lack of consideration a spreading darkness a stench that screams an inaudible cry of despair. Deep inside the fibers of every heart string, chords that make these desperate attempts to sustain connections, are intruded upon by a hopeless disease of evil. The balance seems to be unsettled as of late or maybe the side we want so much more of is just elusive and there rests the affluence of beauty that streams through this life, an unchanelled brightness. So fucking channel it set it up and mark it down just fucking reach, reach as far as you can and make the neccessary reactions.
We all intrude upon one another all in the name of a shallow and meaningless usary amongst an unspoken beauty such brightness transmitting all of this morose conditioning, a shadow in the light a projection of hope and despair, loneliness amongst these dense monotonous crowds a few dim constellations still gleam through so many dark and distant stares, conjectures buried like fossils of dead hope. ems2007An innate evil flowering through evolution through the human spirit what seed what... more
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