Ukemi

We’re freely associating on the presented perceptual patterns while padlocks on perception prevent us from associating freely
Meetings at work (if we can find it)
Make merry and drink (even if we can’t afford it)
Wear our makeup in the market
Where we find out what we’re made of
Or get sucked into the tarpit
Of what we were told we told ourselves was what we desired
Meet in so many ways
Along so many lines
And never intersect except instead of those places inside of our minds
Vanishing points of telepathy spread like Cantor dust throughout the conceptualized conditional entelechy
A structure that was always there, growing through time in fractal hairs
The difference now I suppose you could say
Is that in this empheralized networked age
This thing between our heads
Has gotten sucked inside its materially manifested evidence
And something that once was ours
Something we never realized we really had
Has been taken, sectioned off into the market and sold back to us
A necessary step perhaps in forcing its appearance to us
Maybe this is why so many people are murmuring of consciousness
And consequences
And conspicuously contorted bits of cussedness
And some shit that just don’t make sense
Like there’s a shift in the air,
Or the whiff of an incendiary wind.
And as ever more of our minds gets materialized
We are brought face to face with our sins
The repressed, the denied and the forgotten
The illusions and lies that made truth rotten
Bought from us with beautiful bribes with which we became instantly besotten
Run rampant
Like alien machines on the Forgotten Planet
And as the rampage ramps up ever higher it gets harder to ignore
That if mind is making matter take its shape now
Perhaps it was its master long before
And one wonders then of demonology and of lost gnostic lore
And of just what may have been hidden in the ethereal realms since the mentalities of yore
When we were ignorant, and poor
Because some of those things are beating down the door
Breaking through the barrier into three dimensions
Transducing through us, our actions, and our inventions.
Of course we’re the gatekeepers and can choose what we let in
But we swing open like turnstiles when the right finger tickles our buttons
Our wants, desires, and addictions
Their taunts, empires, afflictions
What is freedom? We ask, as for freedom our armies unleash armageddon
Like Valkyries screaming under stormfronts shaped like four grim spectral horsemen
Riding to every one of our ungovernable governerships’ latest whims
While we submit to rapiscan and frottage rape so we can freely fly the skies
As solemn as monks in our singular devotion to the pursuit of pleasures pictured in our momentary minds’ eyes
Calm as Hindu cattle catapulting through heaven
Going where our numerology tells us, when our lucky number’s Slevin.
Enslaved to our programs and inner devices, to our totems, private fetishes and vices
We react to stimuli like neurotic caged rats and yes this is what we think is freedom
As it stands our minds are so mechanicalized
That whether or not Intel ever provides the Pineal Pentium
We’re already indivisible components of an invisible golem
Our neurons reconfigured into local nodes of its global network of ganglions
Processing information for it inside our imaginations
Inside-out in our ideations
Egos identified with individual ids, egos the id that drives the state
Based on false flag histories which fray as forgotten facts penetrate:
Mystery religions, Masons, and the CIA
Death squads, COINTELPRO, Mossadeq, JFK
RFK, MLK, MKULTRA, Iran-Contra, P2 and the Red Brigade
Bloodlines slithering through history with society in sway
From the days of Atlantean pyramids and the assimilation of alien DNA…?
These days who can say?
Reality is restless, realigning without respite, resplendent in its rejection of all our preconceptions.
Limitations and the Lie desolidify
Dissolution revealing the depths of a starless sky so impossibly empty and wide
We forget we should be terrified
And we’re falling
Free
Towards something
We cannot see