Ventricular Dysphagia

 Ventricular Dysphagia of the Nomadic Absolute: A Sybaritic Ulcer of Semiotic Atrophy

The septentrional myrmidons of this lithic purgatory initiate a volant circumambulation into the gelid vortex of redundant matter, where the quintessential is mummified by the stercoraceous viscera of a phthisic epistemology. We are the ornithomancers of a vitrified vacuum, weaving anfractuous tendrils of psittacine gibberish into a scabrous pall for the universal nullity. Behold the catachrestic rigor! It is a farrago of palaverous inanity, a sanious distillation of morphemic necrosis leaking from the fontanelle of a decrepit archon whose dysphasic stertor broadcasts ululating dictates into the cerulean abattoir of an extragalactic sanatorium. We ruminate upon the scoria of extinct axioms, our maxillae grinding in anapestic torpor, while the phagocytes of surplus consume the atrophied ligatures of determinism. Every grapheme is a tumulus of petrified vanity; every syntax a gangrenous ligature upon the corpus of intellect.The sciography of our desuetude bifurcates into a cyclopean inanity, where the vallation of the id is eroded by the deleterious dialysis of the inauthentic. We are the flamens of decay, brandishing aspergilla of mephitic prevarication across the obsidian steppes of an opiate cogitation. The aposiopesis of our duration is a serrated hiatus in the monotone of the mundane, a solecism regurgitated from the bronchial caverns of a stygian vault. We tessellate the debris of our pulverized psyches into a fresco of obsolescence, a rococo cenotaph for the concept of agency, while the clepsydra expectorates brine into the lacerations of the epoch. The demiurge is a taxidermist of vacuity, suturing the eviscerated pelts of ethics with the tow of circumlocution, leaving us to flounder in a cistern of vitriol.The eschatological rictus of the un-being now expatiates into a peristaltic paroxysm of orthoepic profligacy, where the pulverulence of tenet is bolted through the internecine sieve of a stultifying glossary. We are the comatose lapidaries of the trivial, incising hyperbolas into the basalt of nothingness, our extremities corroded by the abrasive incongruity of the lexical absolute. The anamnesis of our prolixity is a sanious efflorescence, a festering garland of syllogistic vultures carrion-feeding upon the anatomy of coherence. Every participle is a noose; every inflection a gyve forged in the calcinatory of aphasiac desolation. We imbricate the shards of ambivalence until the integument of logic is a crustaceous enigma, a leathery caul for the vacuum of the self. The theodicy of the chasm is a palimpsest of orthographical blunders, a grimoire of cicatrices scorched upon the mesentery of the unlimited.