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Created on: March 03, 2009
Complexity is a pondering that prevents simplicity's misunderstanding in a world filled with the hunger of power's analytical hypnotism. Wherein lies the essence of sanity and at which point differentiates the yin of the soul from the yang of the mind? Lingering as a cloud of rotted responsibility is the perspective of purpose dwelling in the knowing of the unknown, the failing of the assumed, and the livening of second nature. Is this not the presumption of the wise? The progression of learning finds its gray bleakness in the retrograde of the loss of distinction, of discrimination. The fountain of the soul wisps intoxication through its nostrils, a lurching of the calm, the settlings assumed grasped, yet churning. It bubbles a steamed pot of slimy brothel out of the wicked caster of spells hypnotizing with knowledge and understanding, flitting realization, plighting remembrance, setting to detriment maturity; seducing the innocent while corrupting the wronged. The pitiful fools. Is not the realization yet grasped that to be without mature knowledge is, in actuality, peaceable superiority? What of the soul deemed foolish and amicable? Its acceptance fails the host, tames the fiery beast and douses with liquefied perplexity, order, serenity, and tradition. Beat. Electricity. Spectrograph vision clarifies, multiplicity solidifies; waves beaten among concrete dams quench themselves, drowning in an abyss of balance, of positive/negative. Spark.
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