To Warn Of Moss

Command the battleship of your own undoing, or let the monster mash boom end too soon, wouldn’t it be opportunistic to live like the lever that switches between the action of doing and not. Lots to configure, the populating mess that is our ostentatious infectiousness, seems to continually cough the carp out the lakes and the drakes onto plates in a vexed and exhaustive stupor. It isn’t too hard to realize that taking too much is not a good thing, splitting into factions of despair the pair of them aren’t able to compare what it means to execute a viable contingency plan. The frown that explores awareness neither changes the situation that has lead to the deprivation of everyone in need, indeed its that time in the season but is that coming pence you pay truly going to reimburse difference.

Even if it would, as individuals are we too busy to actually physically aid those that are predisposed to die inexplicably, if perspicacity would ingrain compassion not self-exaggeration greed then we probably wouldn’t be suffocating in this current ecology; mercy, mercy thee. If you want change you must make it, not pay someone else to take responsibility for it, that is not only lazy but a duty if we we’re all still petrified from the recourse of religious teachings then it would reinstate the unique identity of community, back to when the children were still playing in the street. Their scuffling feet staying out to meet and greet the neighborhoods beat. Oh what an experience that doesn’t exist anymore, suppose they’d be more enthused from the meaninglessly ephemeral click of a like button. So that is what its come to coded gratification in the form of synthetic euphoria, plug them in already, they’re living in a virtual reality anyhow.

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3 thoughts on “To Warn Of Moss

  1. Love this, and couldn’t agree more. The kids stuck in a cycle of plugging in for their “synthetic euphoria” instead of playing in the street is one of the main reasons I want to move my son to a less technology obsessed country for a while. Let him measure his joys in scraped knees instead of game scores. Great writing 🙂

    Liked by 1 person

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