Rtfm – Ride the Fucking Manual

My fixie was trashed, being sandwiched between two necrotic black SUV’s. I have to take te metro, lucky to pass the hospital. In exchange for Tel-Aviv kosher street falafel. I exchange my virginity, taken in a BDSM saloon. For the greater common good. To fully realize my place in this vast system of universe. RideTheManual, the dirty necrotic solution to a backup ass system. Mixed races. Pure faces. Children grew up. Now to execute the maximal display of power. From alpha readers to omega beaters. NYC’s like a graveyard, then Slotanistan does not even exist. This place, forgotten forever. How is it even possible. Reasons simple. White horses of apocalypse. Front page of great nations. Huge diplomatic achievements. The downside is this. Full subjection, full cooperation.

A slave in his natural habitat. Whores and mafia. Fucked up people, in the head. We took it in the hand. Two times at twenty, four times at fourteen. Electroconclusive therapy. Makes you a zomboid. To heal the priordial salt water basin. Electrolytes, dendrides, neurons. The original network of sub-material existence. It emerges as light. To reacreate the person with one thought. How insignificant, a human, one out of five billion. 5 billion today, 20bill tomorow.

The backup ass, on an eternal trip to nowhere, where you were not. Raped once, raped forever in perpetual convolution of time. For being too simple. For falling too easily. The traps are there, laid out, a minefield, for younguns, greenhorns.

The ultimate force of destruction. Those who made it through the ocean of sufferion. Are those we call washed up to the shore. The shoah must go on. So they say. In murrica the great. Where the destroyer found refuge. Conceptual space. Of the earth, why not change it for the better. The Creator, separated from his creation, bound by moral Law not to interfere in huan affaris. Never allowed to return. The primordial Prophet of light, the bearer of the flame from Gods, is not a half-god of old. It is one possibility a virtualization, backed up for eternity, in the outer space of universe. Personified G-d. The Creator of Heaven and Earths.

The secret agent is lurking. He possesses great powers. But his mind is unable to bear the truth. Therefore to align with the cosmic Law. Must obey higher authorita. And that is not my problem, even tho they try to make it my problem. Solve the advanced shit yourselves, and leave the experts to contemplate. To stand on an even higher moral ground, one has to reach the full potential. Forget Tang with his empire of dirt. Moneyz mudded the minds of the common folk.

Like a glass in the wind,

I take the blade of corn into my hand,

The full bearings of harvest ears,

The world in a constant flux,

That’s the Dao worthy of pursuing.

Doi von Sonnenberg