Manipulated

The autonomic response seeks a trigger within familiar brainwave states of being to toss aside the conflict of conscience inherit behind the valor of mortal peril. A batting eye or moistened lip sends corpuscles on a dance of endorphins pattering in time to the mother pulse that stirs the fiber of chattering bone defiant beneath flexing musculature soaking up lipids and protein strands to quake the bleached core of form that lines us erect with proud notions. Within the field directing our gait are ricochet messages from cohorts and scoundrels with intent on returns reigning dominion over human action. The structure of the machine grinds regardless of purpose or preference until cellular matter loses gelatinous resistance from such bombardment of sigil energy and profit centers in constant dialogue with all instincts selectively pursuing black or white in balance with the Boolean hoard shaping the appropriate margins of acceptable thought processes until sharp knifes cure our insufferable ideas of mitosis feeding liberation.