Tp4 has come to the realization, that no one upstairs has a god damn plan.
Swinging drunk, there's logic, somewhat, but, to think your leaders have any percipience of what is or what may be, is entirely delusive.
They don't know, they don't care. It's lady luck across the board.
The locus of control is illusory. No one knows what they're doing. Tp4 wish it were otherwise.
Tp4 has spent most of this time trying to bend the system towards empathy for the mother, but it may well be the case that man's heart can not withstand such breadth. The totality of man is a miscellany of desire which only loosely culminates in an umbra of knowing.
Buckle up gekha. it's going to get wayyy worse. Savor every dust of happiness. This time today, right now, is all there ever was. time is illusory. it's an aftermath of the present. there is no weight. the universe has no such concept. a mad horse running through the mist with no aim. a fleeting latch on logic at best describes the unstoppable moment launched from disarray and disillusion.
meaning, a wide arc of antipodean zeal eclipse syllogistic temperance.
Weeeeeeeeeeeeeee, are composites of opposing mattter. psychosis is both echt and bizarre.
There is no top down, bottom up theory. contrivance focused by man's thought seldom ends a priori.
stop trying to be happy or sad. swing. we won't do better with the mind that is, the time we have.
fnv'kn' swing.
