they've all found comfort and home in the obscene
the acknowledgment of the obscene yet not the bathing in it, they bathe in the obscene and preach the delights of its stench and of its roughness, they throw its slosh to (a)utres, attempting to land in someone's face the turnover the world faces as it dives into more and more filth: the world has gone to ****, the West declines! yet we must honor the ***** and relish in the garbage, the very garbage that drives us downwards to impotent matter only, leaked and dry of potential, lacking in spirit. or, full of carcass. existentialize your trauma and *****, hedonize the great syzygy for your karma: the human attachment, hedonizingly distance yourself from it and open your mouth, to truly eat insects, as you lick the velvet and touch the furs. you kiss the feathers and squeeze fake pearls. devalued and denatured. lost. they, as a trench lurker, the flounder of Mariana, of the Challenger, sop up the muck and swear it as caviar: mixtures of relativism, depression, pain, and pseudo-gnostic death-obsession. swear it as gold. swear it as a true holy. ephemeral ideologies for defunct genitals. dysfunctional inner ***. root and sacral blockages, yet somehow found a faux-freedom in forgery, obscenity, and pretentious "thinking"; precious intellect becomes shattered by the foot of myth, legend, poetry, feeling, spirit, moving, flow, WATER. ye forced the aurorea off of their heads, the acrylic and oil glory around the crown: ye tipped it off, to expand into the buiten en binnen, yet have become so paralyzed because of the flashing lights outside, the illusionistic flashes, you find solace and comfort in polyamorizing your genitals.