victim's mentality

red equates anger, red means love, red has to be blood lust - red can be romance, red is the color of roses ask me not why the red sea churns, how dense it is, dense could be stupid, dense could mean the accumulation of all these living organisms throwing in wisdom or dense might just mean one could walk on water. which is which? the power of suggestions, the body language not captured in idle chat - was that an implication? the fingers strum, the throat constricts, the eyes glare, or beaming, it is hard to tell when it is night. blackness encases this shallow world of skin, wrapped in so many contours, meanders, they don't all lead to the sea for some simply fall off the deep end, others have dried up, wells long unable to give life. and life what of it? a mechanical run up like a robot obeying instructions, lines of codes performing, executing flawlessly - except there is no soul, no heart, just a blink, of recognition, off to the next task while the red, dense night capable of mimicry is lost in the mind of the observer who observes blindly a heart eroding, washing out - to be devoured again by another red tide do you dare eat this oyster appearing from a said merchant of reputation? it could be a supply chain error, error: unknown unknowns a bullwhip effect breaks backs and broken backs in the dark lie still the breath emits tendrils of smoke alive. does not mean much. can you tell? conspiracy theories, shadow organizations, shadows following shadows. shadows take forms, the blurry lines between legit and gray, gray and red line splashed with white. ring, ring, it was just another cold sales call and a screaming man at the other end i do not want this. news broke out the next day, could have saved his mind, his house could is subjective, debatable, like any good trial lawyer wielding the art of cross examining understands. find the weak point - then go right through it - but the devil laughs at the other end, what now? angels dressed as devils, devils as angels, it was all one halloween night - and the banshees, the polteageist were all hurrying about to make one castle rock. it's rocking you see, this earth trembling at the very core, walk the white washed road ladden with tricks of every kind walk till the red, the language of life slowly unravels. there, you've heard it. it is all about. tails you lose, heads you lose.