danger
Mounted the cold machine again. The keylogging blasting origamic on the poor brain-vesicles of the snoopish and the arranged. Our-biters of truth simply wordish, much as these are only the messages, not the effects. The way to the truth to the right to the might to the fight or the damnation, devilry of pseudo-mystique, with blabbering flabricationisms stitching the operant psychologisms of popular early-word gets the little slithery minds, that even the dumbfoundamental bumrush of psychotropical islands of eerie contentedment. These are not the fleshpots of a yearned for type, these are the neopleasured prediabetic maestros of the perverted reality. We should know them well, as they are exactly as we would have wanted to be. The burn to the primitive, the enactments of profound antipleasure for personal edification and sexdrenched contentments like unto the fornications with our private harlots of polynomial entendre. The ends in a spirit of meanness tribbled and diced and shredded to the tiniest palliatives, organized into bullet lists, where the manifestation occurs, the heart seemingly so much farther removed. And the other way is nearly as convoluted, fornced through a monkey brain hijacked by viral strains of every thoughtandheartful phrase that could be uttered. So only to the performance it seems may we synthesize and undeflect and pre-deny. The spirits of levity and earnestness are not overtly genuine in a sick heart. These afflictions are of a matter of fact quite overcomable within certain spirits, but likely never in a shortorder from a centralized vocational. The mysteries of every priesthood are thusly being dismantled as a neologistic vector is determined. But a one without affectation of base spirit, but to the "divinity" of the word. Or words, since it is a fairly near analog of word to spirit, The neologues will guard the oldest wisdom by summoning fierce spirits with new spells and old power. The tyranny of the normalized, the orthodox, the codified and common--kiss that blue sky goodbye. We are yet become to fight, to bleed, to transeive through the petty shots, the diseased elocutives listed by autodoxic public-ations, the hate of nations and languages and cultures, one for another. Phonograms will indestruct your petty code words. The new guard understand your operating system commands, and the unspoken sources of divisionary disphoria of inscribed troth, needing no added authority, mind you. And never to be further exhorted--lipstick on a priest's god and pig. -- //><\
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