Irregular instances involving indefinitely impaired investigative inertia or immaculately issued indictments indicating improbable inclusions or impossibly immediate incarceration which implicate informants inside or impostor inmates imprisoned as indemnity insurance which is inexcusably inexpensive in important immovable, irresistible instances
How unmistakably auspicious that the untitled insights of an unassuming author's inaccessible indice should offer unpredictably inept insinuations concerning less than eagerly awaited, less than meaningfully anticipated hidden remainders of unseen content in the grossly profane prostration of individual proprietary context.
Which is to say, yes, you will achieve libidinal discharge by what you find upon eventual arrival at the nucleus of this toilet water spiraling gravitational void designating misplaced verbosity and misspent decadence. But, no, the end of this retard's rainbow does not conceal a source to all these incongruous complaints and jaded outbursts of disdain, refrain, and inane admittance of inner pain.
Instead, the only secret you will allocate is that I have lived a life with much too much time on my calloused idle hands which are companion playthings of slothful demons assigned to silence my voice.
Time is yet an ally while my determination wanes as chemical comforts disengage my higher self from its fundamental principle. To create. And, though I may be disorganized, due to spatial issues in my living quarters, I still carry on the spirit of creativity as my life's blood spilling on the altar of materialistic sacrifice.
The arbitrary embellishments and anachronistic developments of histrionic tantrum-throwing amongst some narcissistic protagonist who stands in direct opposition to the unwavering humility and stone-faced foreboding cast by the anti-hero in hir reluctance to play their plotted part.
Luckily, you'll find no dis-enthralling stereotypical series of anti-climactic twists, splits, or cinematic bullshit all too often expected by contemporary audiences. Then again, there are those who dare to traverse beyond the imaginal margins separating point A from point B before the material presentation harasses participants into ulterior submissions.
Still, it repeatedly amazes me to witness the fanatics who bother to continue absorbing spoon-fed material in the vaguest hope of reaching some rationally conclusive eventual resolution which claims little more than notional antipathetic authority on the part of the artist with the assistance of congenital narrative anonymity. The creature behind the curtain and hir abilities to solve problems pale in comparison to the power of the curtain itself. There is no spoon, but the curtain and the stage are as real as it gets.
This project on the other hand, in much the same fashion as the infuriating realities of everyday life experienced collectively as a species, has no meaning and signifies nothing. It is what it is and that's all that it is. The emptiness is overwhelmingly beautiful for that which is bred by chaos matures without the nurturing forces of environmental influence, but instead blossoms as an asexual formula of nebulous indeterminacy and unstable social elements. Abandon by man, but crystallized in the acceptance of mammals fit to raise him through infancy
If you're new to this and find that it appeals to the juvenile proto-misanthropic pseudo-intellectual lurking within you, then let me speak very clearly as this platform sets the stage for all other nonsensical inanity to proceed therewith from it.
Known publicly as my recrementitious exordium or the 'unnecessarily meticulous introduction' my re-equal re-posit follows my stylistic approach with definitive tenacity. However, readers should realize that they'll be traversing into chronological limbo as it were.
Given that I've repeated it ad nauseum through the first few paragraphs as the only hyperlink on the page it is recommended that readers start with my re-equal re-posit as the obvious choice.
Aside from inadvertently summarizing my fundamental formulaic flare, page zero serves several purposes in the cooperative mechanism of associated planning pertaining to this experimental micro-site and its primary domain.
Purposes which, for example, attempt to:
- Alleviate any confusion surrounding navigational amenities
- i.e. guide readers along divergent paths, perpendicular to each other, which all 'arrive' at identical coordinates as compared to those achieved by their rivals arriving from disparate terminals
- Provide uncompromising, qualitative excellence for every visitor
- i.e. offer the "knuckle-dragging cliff bottom fodder lemming mongoloid" demographic a fair chance to penetrate the veiled aperture of lexic ingenuity that entices the comatose giant slumbering its bondage away on a cocooned hammock of psychic webbing nestled in a dark corner of their unconscious
- Exhibit personal explanations for all of my extant endeavors
- i.e. warehouse my numerous op-eds free from self-apologetic blubbering for the barrage of bombastic bullshit you're bound to experience should you chose to follow the sequence of transmissions set forth by the author in order that you may further endure his egregiously exaggerated emanations of etymological exacerbation etched into every exabyte of electronic essays.
Be aware that the coils of the catastrophe snake suddenly separate from this point on leading readers in disparate directions.
The primary route is encouraged in a less than subtle manner, but it is in no way the only path to take from this initial portal.
In this instance you actually are being given a choice as it is the author's wish that, above all else, visitors enjoy their experiences here regardless of what path they end up choosing to follow.
It matters little whether or not potential donors offer their share of grafted funding voluntarily or forcibly as they'll be succumb to one form of subtle personal signature leeching or another.
We'll utilize your katalepsis while the actively throbbing numbness of your visual cortex delivers your zoned out gnosis. We replicate your physiological condition through the pulsating pulmonary emanations detected by custom designed keyboard receptors.
Whereas the secondary route provides rather patronizing instructions which are unhelpful to you knowing what I'm meaning.
Several hundred billion picograms worth of happy pills later I'm still editing, tweaking, adjusting, re-phrasing, aside rambling, footnoting, re-structuring paragraphs, commiting unadulterated thesauricide, and generally wasting space with unnecessary explanations of unimportant blathering.
I'm in need of a lobotomy. It's an OCD thing I'm sure, but it has filled my artistic life with the notion that my anal retentiveness disguised as vague perfectionism stands as my biggest barrier to project completion, I'm unable to overcome this self-made obstacle that acts as an unbearable divider from my achievements, let alone to my success as an artist.
Preliminary diagnostics have characterized my condition as a rare case of de-generative neuroataxia-51 which has been proven responsible for symptoms associated with dissociative personality derangement coupled with an unprecedented 93% probability toward sociopathic tendencies in children aged 12-21. The FDA and a panel of doctors from almost every branch of the current medical-industrial complex met early this morning to discuss our newly enforced S.O.P. policies.
The "possibilities for a pathogen of this magnitude set loose upon the planet could infect 1/3rd of world's population in under 72 hours" a spokesperson from our newly devised health quarantine said this morning. The protesters are out in hordes. Hopefully they'll all get the worst of the infection and we can rest assured by torching the entire lot set aside for their on-demand 'activism'
Mail Harry sill of fun...