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  • Writer's pictureAmelia Nicol

Scarecrows! (paranoia)

Waste a side step telling yourself how to move forward again, asking the same places for the indicative necessary to places that will has never seen, and that decision can make itself without your influence at all. These allowances in movement, in space, there are only certain shapes that can struggle themselves to make sense for moments in the chambers that fit them with structures for certain pressure and vapor. Instinctual dis-care and the inward glaring experienced at the disability to look away; direct yourself, those caged parts start to fight you back. Lashing out according to their own imagination and the fierce they would imagine for someone else; those no bodies that have little to stand or understand beyond our own food. As if we have time to search and wonder for ourselves what actually fits and what the manufacturing gossip and machines would try to relegate. All the same, all this same ol worrisome stress and the pockets that are able to find true wonderment still; all the stillness eats away at itself in timing, pieces missing or damaged get the loudest spectacles and blurriest countenance. Remind yourself how to escape before you’ve ever been met with the obstacle; the attributes of adaptation and the conditioned relief that never finds itself again after the thoughtfulness of others’ direction catches itself up again in strange medium. The narratives claw at the air itself, those directions that have taken people by their wind before; those places that leave you hollow and searched for years on end without courage enough for facing the disability in assumptions. Knowledge apart the empirical ownership of thought, that fullness protects itself in transparency and searching hides beyond the drum lines designed to distract and weapons meant to threaten those without the proper conveniences or contacts for such curiosities. Cautionary ridicule and the reiteration values of each are found each and every time they are met; tell us again, then, what we should need to understand what we are saying. Reminders of falling short or the short-sighted breaking your voice all over the place, leaving the parts missing for their own calculations and blaming you for the significance they imagine for you. A particular slice, with any number of offset paths splattering around it for instances of recombining and anticipation of practice within a medium. Scare-crows to do better for your work but for the main streams that cannot allow certain divergence or find any excuse to remove themselves from the guilt gained in greed and ignorance against origination. Reminded again, these outliers most vulnerable to those reactions and provocation techniques specialized to buy and sell the flesh and bones without their attachments. Just a certain weight of it will do for now, the rest they take in installments of cruelty and disgust for actual humanity and its need to continue. Prescriptions from capital relay themselves parts of participation and scar the traveling lengths against difference; adding forever to the inescapable surrenders imagined for the truly bold and courageous in thought. Justice forgives the truant and is ever removed; the appeal has been eaten up in idolatry. Along getting away from itself in lengths ripped out trailing clouds of splattering partiality and conundrum for combining or contracting substance from. There will still be ways to find privacy, these dark cavernous bodies holding together the pressure we could imagine ourselves beneath for the time to run itself in correct enough motive to collapse whatever concealment motivations and watch their structures realign immediately to more accurate and necessary indicatives. The validity of existence, the parts we are allowed to know about these dark caverns filled with potential grasp or release; the ways in which people are protected from information and the culture of illusion that installs itself instead the withdrawal of instincts, horrible insecurities and false puppeteer lies based on popular delusions and readily believed myth. How many ways have we been hypnotized to believe or disbelieve something based on opinions that have lasted centuries; how much of our information could possibly be correct with so much corresponding degradation and destruction of data happening? What we see beyond perspective is in no way sanctioned by those working against the freedom of information necessary to our comprehension of self. The sense of being stared at, more and more intense fears and trepidation at the sense of being taken from, or mistaken, or covered up. Differentiation of self from others, differentiation of reality from imaginations; differentiation of narrative from other narrative and dilemma. And voice. Moral right for copyright in America is a terrifying joke. Anti-copyright?

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