a for Anagogy... Archives - Page 7 of 13 - All The Wrong Topics dot com

Sell Dumb…

out of Context;
‘change is coming hard and fast into the spaces that fill out the blank stare autonomy behind the eyes as the icy glaze traps us under ice-aged social waste collected in minds, economy of motion glacially slow and cumbersome as a graceless wreck atrociously begins to intrude upon the hearth and home of captive civilian audiences locked in their oh-so-not-so terrible television friction in which burns the mind’s eye scraping with a vacant electric flare like a robot zombie ready for the next orders to follow like law to the letter, but we are so much more than shuffling corpses waiting to die finally to get away from this ornate experiment in social extremes and power games utilized to covet the resources…’




Chemical Innocence

out of Context;
‘base material transmuted into goals into which this conscious world takes its shapes and cues to create… the majority of us are confused by the variable complexities that seem to betray whatever humanity appears to be at first glance whether conscious animal or instinctual alien drawn into worlds within worlds of drama and consequence, the grand scheme as epic as it seems is really quite simple when one considers that humanity is the source of all these dreams becoming reality…’




Affixed by the fools.

out of Context;
‘implying that perhaps we know better than the rest who are resting out of a lazy affectation to justify the dissecting insults as intimidation to be merely thrown around for best effect on the weak-minded, trying their best to digest public opinion related to the massive whole as the propaganda spins further that which seems out of control through subtle strands of the perversion in decadence used to change our heads… how we look at each other in defense…’




Eve of the New

out of Context;
‘where the only access refrigerator is always locked closed with the cabinets and cupboards nailed shut as the room begins filling with gas from the stove left on high, but no one is getting anywhere in making a wistful final countdown admonishing a god any god that might listen to random pleas sent skyward as the reversal of fortunes makes the heavens fall to earth in impending doom raining blood upon the scourge of humanity killing itself… i am passed out yet again, my friends…’




Paradigm Shift

out of Context;
‘choking on the seeds of the eras left behind by those cruel and unusual pushed around for the sake of keeping the winning argument forced upon the majority… a synthesis of all these factors and more is what we call ‘soul’, sleeping like a ghost as it trots through progress upon a high horse like a trojan decoy made to look and feel like the way it is supposed to be subtly shaping our thoughts in ways inconceivable to those not there to witness…’




Anti-Christian Ethics

out of Context;
‘that shell will turn and walk away as the rude personal signs of the ignorant are displayed… weak curses that sit on delay then laugh as their own idea of truth becomes the vicar or pastor or rabbi whatever the case may be when warping the implicit trust in honor and good faith sends strange oppositional signals toward those whose idea of faith needs no constant reinforcement nor personal displays of overwhelming righteousness…’




Loving Care When Made Aware.

out of Context;
‘the functional adult is supposed to be able to care for others in the same capacity as caring for the Self implies while living in an existence of perpetual motion within organic machinery as the internal combustion clock reaches out to the edge of empty from this intellectual place Here, transmitting signals into and out from the void as prismatic vacuum recording all as it has occurred in time and space as two layers out of the many densities of reality present as the whole loops in on itself much like the example of the ever-swallowing Ouroboros seen from two dimensions, but reality plays tricks with us as we explore the vast richness from which we are the solid beings derived into this holographic destiny…’




Apprehension of Unlucky Fools

out of Context;
‘the culture we appear within is a casual standard by which we mark and measure our limitations and ability to move freely, contrasting the modernity of Now against previous ideas of what the future was to hold for its people when the right sacrifices were made, but we get trapped in sovereign themes of debt by following their rules of civility and not our own as time wanes between the violent mood swings of governmental and ethical classifications that batter us from one biased side to the next to reinforce the idea of futility embedded into the modern Mankind’s mindset by the now-televised subliminal control with demographic lines as the new statistical boundaries to measure general productivity and subservience to the degree that authority requires to keep us under watch like the human cattle we have become…’




the Fools of April

out of Context;
‘to create the eggs of fate that juggle and shake with Faberge flourish in order to seem worth much more than the human cringe that makes this drama reach out in exciting inclusion of endings, the golden rush is on to find more of the most suitable ways of sorting out what to profit from in light of askew perceptions as turning into aliens when the gravity pulls their consciousness off this plane even there on the wings are also too many couched in the rain waiting for a chance to get into what was once mine too just to merely give away, and hoping to find those human centers…’




Manifestations of the Catalyst.

out of Context;
‘unwanted bugs forced out by a poisonous poultice that acts as a harmful gift with a limited scope of blessings while reacting allergic behind the scenes as an ally to the more “humane” methods of killing off insurgents in a given region, we could study all day the habits and flaws of the populace in general even though nothing could ever really save us from their problems except for compassion in the strictest sense, and that would mean an overhaul of the insult culture we have come to know and love and hate with a kind of sense of passion that throws the conformists off their chairs in whining gobs like mad infants…’