The amen of greed and coersion

This hits a state of chrysalis in me; I step from the platform of my life, left in smoking ruins, and abjectly survey the financial crisis her instability has procured me. Oh well. Could have been worse, as things ratchet to crux moves, wherever complacency rules. I suppose three thousand dollars is cheap; students pay gurus ten times that rate, for smaller scraps of change than this. I wonder if I’ll be forced to move out, and get the deposit, to cover her desire to cover us with ignorance. Don’t push her, she’s about to crack, somebody said. How convenient, I note. Become fragile to slip the truth, others modify, to save you. Meaningful, smashed bull’s gall litters the china shop, as the dejected owners sweep, and the embittered human leaves, relatively blood-free but poisoned with guilt underneath. Their saw blade of sharp to dull rasps us all, leaving free space to fill with what’s shaved off, and led to dust, again and again, amen.


A fast moving mind stretches itself sideways, into tangents offering insights, others miss. I dropped the load at the bank, and kissed my life goodbye ... gone today, here tomorrow. Of what dies and what lives ... the consensus is strength, and wombs ... the sword yields to the sword, swung by those too dire and freakish, to consider the alternatives. Greed, possession, and the need to control others wills are currencies to tyrants, who’s wealth is ego, which needs to be constantly fed, to cover ... what stretching your neck can show. The world is blessed and bereft with beings channeling darkness, severing higher cords to pursue, their own nefarious entendres they fall on, for swords are sharpened to kill at each point or either side, in arenas of peace or war. A moment of not getting angry, allows the other side to express its guilt, and truth spun into rough yarn, it’s forced to wear. That must be uncomfortable, the sage thinks. I’m sorry you’re so attached to it. I’d help you, but I see you’re wearing it to attract compassion, because you don’t choose to be responsible, and generate it through worrying about others. Suggesting you need to be free of it, you will fight to the death to keep it on, smashing the glass of the china shop, others insides suggest.


The event horizon of meltdown, and feigned remorse others have bled, reminds us of the Crusades, where philosophy and baser natures rage, to externalize inner wars the combatants are not trained to see, unless it serves their masters, who feign to have masters, to show them these truths." It is horrifying that we have to fight our own government to save the environment’, said Ansel Adams, famous photographer (1902-1984)
[(but the government is a collective of its people’s hidden motives/desires)]
I want to add, asking the very werewolf’s wail, who painted the moon
so brightly.