Anytime is Apocalypse Time.
The beginning has no end and such.
Now is the time, which was the time, and be the time.
Of our lives attenuating toward fracture.
At any time, there is apocalypse.
Con flict / flagration / fluence.
Revealing that which had remained instrumentally concealed.
Perhaps, indefinitely hidden as a matter of purpose.
Free from apocalypse, time has afforded little solace.
From the burning sensation of epiphanation.
That feeling of trephination as one does on good MDMA.
Yet catastrophized for being rationalized.
Time apocalypse.
Rapine of the crown chakra.
Seen it all before in succession.
Now progression of trans-substantiation.
At any time, the most basic of all securities may fail.
That of continuity and purpose.
Without which we are left with little with which to use.
The "apocalypteinization" of time renders our perception.
Into circular patterns of cause and effect.
We are revealed certain truths or patterns of persistence.
Only once we are receptive to their ideation.
Situationalism may potentiate recognition.
At what point does fear become more influential than the potentiation.
Of the situation which takes place in the mileu between self and other.
Witch perpetuates the illusion of individuality.
The apocalypse reveals glimpses of the "real thang".
Which cannot be understood under normal circumstances.
As we are imprisoned in our pre-fab assembly line notions of self.
As distinct and separate.
As a discrete, mutually exclusive, package of being.
Missing the forest for the trees.
The industrial potentiation of commodity based commerce.
Has served to bolster the illusion of self, as well as demand it.
Create it, sustain it, control it.
The mantra of all those who came before is.
As such the same apocalypse in time.
Wean the consumer on products it begins to require in.
Daily operations of self.
Create dependency through familiarity.
And then, disrupt distribution, enable short and out ages.
Spread fear and loathing in an infant techno-culture.
Who has not yet realized independence of purpose.
Trap the many in the one.
And then, drop it.
Drop the curtain that had been concealing the truth.
The whole fucking time.
The time when you first discovered the apocalypse process.
Detailed and precursory, yet sudden and indeterminable.
The whole time you were coddling yerself in ignorance.
All the time you were catastrophizing trivial matters.
Of insignificance.
Just fucking drop it, man.
Let me get one last good look at that motherfucker.
Before my image of self is again destroyed.
Exhaustively obliterated.
It's about time.
Anytime is Apocalypse Time.