Enduring this lost battle with Nexhagus free from pill persuasion or pre-condition
          ( a personal retrospective or expository testament to idiosyncratic multi-dimensionalism )

 

The simplest revitalization strategy ever devised: just shut the fuck up

          I place no blame on the distracting agencies of media or the vampiric entities of consumption as they possess no power over me that isn't consensual conformity and they pose no threat to me that isn't conflated cooperation.

          Cracking the curricular cuffs of coordinated conditioning off the wrists consists of continued commitment to coercive self-discipline, concentration (i.e. coffee), and the constant questioning of one's own capability and capacity to choose.

          The question is whether to immerse myself in my chosen craft or to choose to detach myself from all sense of interest, distract my energy, and rest on my laurels.

  The mob of mediocrity demands the most peculiar loyalties.

          Why do "we" keep coping with the collusion between the church and the state? Because they insulate men of the cloth convicted of murder and child rape instead of breaking out the guillotines built exclusively to castrate.

          Why are "we" complacent when the corrupted influences of credit card companies constipate the currency? Because they recover the cost in interest from civil consolidation collections firms compounding cheddar-return policy.

          Why don't "we" even care about the commonality of crooked cops charged with capital crimes crystal clear? Because they got it from the constitutional concessions of corporate correctional enterprise the same motherfuckers that manufacture and maintain the one place above hell that all mankind fear.

  Something must go here that divides the former from the latter.

Death, taxes, and the new angle of rotation Earth now spins on its axis ever since the magnetic reversal of the poles turned disposable lighters into hi-tech gadgets and converted the anarchist proletariat into the patriotic fucking fascist.

Uncertainty and contradiction often represent one of the only Universal Truths™ we can count on or cling to in life. All the rest of the despicable half-truths disguised as divinely inspired gospel we're force-fed on a daily basis offer little more than speculative assumptions, empty promises, and un-evolved forms of political leverage.

Casual observation proves human behavior predictable to a fault, even though reliable theoretical evidence contradicting our inherent predictability suggest that human psychology itself processes information at the vastly complex and unstable level of quantum interplay and should therefore be studied by astronauts.

Each and every individual human mind consists of a myriad of nested personalities which manifest enacting kinetic enact-ion exactly how the fuck deliberate response necessity design dictates.

This built-in roto-selver functions as an integral part of the operator's platform offering simulated access to the psycho-social mask disguise persona user-interface plus optional mnemonic trigger mechanisms. Should users suspect a single component identity dominating the primary machination it would be wise to isolate and dismantle it expeditiously.

At some point, users will be expected to exposit and, by those means, perform the most basic of linear equations (e.g. getting from point A to point B without snaking wayard in sudden paralleling sidewinds)

  Spying between the planks in this post-modernist white picket fence.

It's at right about this point here that the reader consider whether they wish to change the channel or proceed with the de-auditing process already in progress. Instantaneously initiated the second you sat your insufferable ass down and started seeing this shit in your mind's eye. (which will now be referred to as the apple of my anus) Letting it saturate your synapses through subtle suggestible susceptibility and marinate your medulla with the destitute glamours of some poor young cum-soaked whore's fascinations.

Post-hypnotic entrancement via textually driven mesmerism, electronically delivered thought forms that manipulate magnetic shifts in the human brain drastically altering the activity of delta-wave frequencies emitted by neuro-chemical pulsations, and a shitload of sub-visual source materials that your puny conscious mind wouldn't be able to decipher if you were a 33rd level Magic-User, a 33rd degree Grand High Mason, or a 333 year-old immortal Ipssissimus.

As for achieving tangible, re-produceable results with various mediums we suggest users follow the loose methodologies described in a numbered list below before attempting to concoct their own avenues toward manifestation. Readers are encouraged to discern for themselves whether they each individually possess the shiny brass balls of necessary wherewithal to maneuver through the impossible obstacles erected along the path on this insidious initiatory pilgrimage.

  Safe passage through shark infested waters costs little more than Chiron's fee.

      1.   Playing with fire and enjoying the burn.

Let that quickly diffusing sparkler's flicker of chemically-charged inspiration dim out a bit before you start packaging your merchandise and stop tending to the swollen, bleeding hemorrhoids you've received from blatant bodily neglect borne of bouts of out of body experience unbecoming your bowels. Fuck only knows where your butt has been.

So watch out for blood when you blot the brown out with bleach on your asshole. By the way, tightening your twat with sequentially smaller cocks and searing off your pubic hairs with vanilla scented Yankee candle wax will not properly prepare you for the perfectly perpendicular paranoid abyss of terrified successes that await us on the counter-locking interstates of non-stop intravenous estrogen.

In every addicts nightmare of boredom betrayed there is a moment when you realize how fucking pathetic you really are, but the emotional impact of that notion's importance drifts away slowly and softly like giant continental shelves eased on off by liquid hot plates of shifting rock.

Blistering heat causes exceptional dermal deformation that can permanently alter the individuals appearance if measures aren't taken to protect against it. Total bodily immersion in liquid nitrogen is definitely not recommended for proto-sapiens yet to reach trans-human incubation.

      2.   Taking stock of one's own layered gradation of selves.

          Once an arrangement of personalities are accounted for it is imperative that users consider redefining their parameters. Here we offer a psycho-historic self-examination conducive to the following:

  • an itemized re-distribution of the sub-divisions of the ego as determined by the most partisan of authorities possible. Here we're speaking of subject matter that deals exclusively with the author's:
    • haplessly jumbled memories of a life out-lived and a death quickly approaching given the current rate of productivity exemplified by the veritable wreckage of minuscule literary output shown here
    • pipe-dream expectations of a future that awaits in the belly of some pre-Adamic cephalopodic space-beast dead but dreaming along the false bottom of a garbage disposal-like gravitational abyss
    • vacuous, near-comatose present which vaguely resembles the unexpected reign of an autistic seven year old crushing the competition on a special needs version of the game show Jeopardy!

  • flagrant 'scientistic' twaddle lathered in persistent inconsistency, ever-aggrandizing scrotum sweat, and utterly self-indulgent horseshit.
  • a re-deciphered analytical portrayal of the means by which chemistry ultimately determines personality to the extent of arbitrary re-constitution with dictated individualism in the form of apparently unique phraseological paradigms.
  • self-negating consubstantiation that inadvertently summons the author's most vile, malign demonic essences to visible apparition as that of a small battalion of undead monkeys cleaving with wild abandon into the author's spinal column for meta-fluidic sustenance and some appallingly barbaric notion of playfulness.
  • sloppy metric fucktonnes worth of urgent adverbial diarrhea spewed forth from the brain-anus (or brainus) sans revision and repeatedly flushed into a structurally unsound electronic septic tank already overflowing with incomprehensible tweaker dissertations and convoluted newage psycho-babble.
  • the type of denotative meaninglessness which insists upon itself and therefore denounces the relative importance of any and all other proto-sapien lifeforms possessing tangible goals and/or desires to exist without being responsible for the author's survival, and the extravagant amenities that lead to his happiness
  • the compartmentalization of mono-dimensional forms not unlike artificially intelligent cardboard cut-outs that the author imagines will suddenly jump start his Utopian fallacy of success and satiate the 800lb predatory simian mankiller representative of his fiscal ignorance and the financial strain he has placed on anyone who risks proximity to him
  • grammatical mongoloid-ism, obtuse comparative logic, and the utmost pinnacle of in-cohesive punctuation
  • the sub-romantic adoration of numerological pre-tense and the expansive metastasis of pompous absurdity for its own sake and more often than not for the sake of literary desperation
  • A brand of self-deprecation unrivaled by even the most bizarre and repulsive fetishistic self-loathing masochist

 

Hoping this missive is tax deductible,  

Frugal fraggle on the Prowl            

 

  <----ndx---->

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