The present to be continued, moody and unpredictable by traditional means of measurement
Refections like vultures detecting flesh running out of its history, wondering which way it went .
Mortals gather around the portals of enlightenment.
Gaze at the stars and then gaze at their watches, silently synchronizing something systematic and soothing to get them through solitary confinement if they can't beat the rap of the security apparatus.
Resurrection in real time
with the feeling of waking up and remembering fragments from a dream,
the familiar recategorized.
Hearing jangling of the charms of the devil dragging the chains on brains up to the next level.
Politics per usual per perverted intellectual finding a cycle with just a touch of lightning and a comfortable seat from which to direct resources to their door step.
Lifting off from illusions as pervading as the messages of kings without any opposition to speak of,
Escaping thru holes punched in the paradise lust of material persons with big budgets to blow on the same old right stuff that got us stuck in the first place.
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