To rid ourselves of the distractions, we create more distractions. And in order to be saved, one must be lost– floundering in a Sea of unexpected circumstances to which they can no further turn right as they may have the leyway to turn left. A counteractive complex designed to repetitively annex those nearly beneath the shrine. A certain amount of stagnant is required here if that which is hidden is to be revealed. Suggestably given back unto the light with far greater appeal. What’s more is that long ago such tablets have been sealed, perhaps the knowledge obtained too great to emancipate us from the raw picking of ravaged fields. Although this is true, many more will come wandering by to prove all found prophecies are corrupt by lies. However misplaced, a simple utterance of words in an arrangement of synchronicity allows the former rhythms to fall away. Enlightened by the change, rather, than entirely aloof, left out of the existential loop and blindly gnawing on the ends of stale perceptions intricately misused. All the while, few words speak kindly to the unenthused; badly bruised by an intangible world yet somehow turning away with a new inspiration one cannot reach through ancient text or broken speech. Thus the patterns we find ourselves living in between are the same in some respects, as those that keep you miles or perhaps minutes away. What changed?