Oddity

me and trump made of the same stuff, refuse to believe in reality. the reAlity that feels like a stuffed goose, and that reality, is abject, sooooo much so as to create waves and waves of trouble BH the pressure of indulging.

Indulging the hidden seeds of vanity, that has caused so much interminable crisis, the reappearance of such from the shafts of karmik loathing thus as end descendidly.

After all how can he bite the hand that feeds?

No, it’s a dangerous game to play, a solitaire of sorts. almost every other person feels by what appears as fiat or some effected pathos.

The game is as high as it’s bets. and incidentally hate to part with it, for it is still going for broke.

Can he handle it or should a muzzle dampen his barking rage into a domesticated obedience?

Not so easy , wait. how close or far the gap from each other, and what about Phylo graceful withdrawn not a social problem discussions held in deranged parlors of gross mist understanding that the eye blinks?

Wait until terminus , after which the idle harangue of I told you so seem like so, another missed opportunity to believe it really is happening?

What if someone still hears it, the call for some type of action before it’s too late or too early and then the man with the rose in his mouth still must care ?

Care for whom he will walk four legged for her into the bluest misted eternity that even such that can bear admonishment must withstand?

Must fof those that do it not for one but many realize the pathological lie if deconstructing a very fine simile

No. Refuse for for lesser adjudications then this fine pen can unearth the encyclopedic dismissal , as something credible, more so then the fountainhead of Rand , …

No more no less. A vertigo of consubstiation, the transference of power whereby immense powers are exorcised upon letting it slide into oblivion.

Yes yes. He says the rose with the man in his mouth. Against the grain, uphill then up river, flowing unto etheric eulisian fielded, wield the wrap on of choice: that no one, no Two can remand.

Love the pain and so loss is certainly forgone.
Far gone, way out.

Everyone trying to escape everyone from the hell that is other people

Everyone is acting this and that, forming aped opinions

Well not everyone is like:

Ill act this way or that try to fool them really, im like this or that

Or: they have failed acting not everyone capable to act so the descend to ape. like behavior, they become listlessly subjective and nihilistic, no exit here unto anything but degrees of separation causing degrees of projection and introspectively identifying , kissing asses that appeal most promising.

Then they after long and arduous climbing they ascend like into another cubicle, and stag there fir a while like in beckett’s How it Is, and it works out well ( it’s hard to become anyone, it’s getting harder all the time, but it all works out)

My other personalityis no longed acting out but in, into the self that negates it’s self, offering solis, …

Now the improvisation: the latest rage, the cultural virtually held computarized social intercourse for the developmentally disadvantaged.

the fulcrum that balances the social and personal depression within postmodern evolved culturally mixed melting pots have failed to integrateong term.

When the chips are down
When the political slices thin out

When the sliced capital deliberately thin out when the Federal Reserve Lowes interest rates into the minus territory, then then the.big faultline appears.

Something even more profound has to happen, to save the system, and no extreme measures are barred.

My other personality failed, the act as if failed me, and the burning man appears turning to the other.cheek.Picasso, oh pick as oh! tears he apart, but is saved by the man with the rose in his mouth.