Subjunctive rearticulation project

the night wears on, the milk curdles, silence engulfs me with crime’s endless hours. For some the hereafter’s slight effacing enters an essential faculty; to fix the real real to will power, to formless undermining opposition, to boredom and low grade banality, rewriting narcissists lower case gift to all. I leave the general dissolve feeling; shame, not shame, sadness, not sadness, wanting to identify the faculty’s systems and in doing so, not wanting to generalize, and in doing so something attempts forced detachment of the self . . . can not, so, continue the production line, outlawing certain outlawed practices, satisfying paranoid instability to a more normal pretend, frightened almost religion. And despite everything going on, the war goes on pregnant with envy, consuming fleshy subjects, depositing automated division, asking for visual equanimity to annoyances. Beyond paved dismissal, party loyalty and above the darkness, the night wears on, the milk curdles, silence engulfs me with crime’s endless hours.