‘…so often disappointed for as much as we wish support to be there it never seems to arrive when we want it during the most overwhelming of situations… passed the presence that gives us something to look forward to when staring into the darker world that tries to judge and forsake us by our own admission to prove that sharpened point to skewer the sorts who are determined not to get stuck or struck behind the gaseous legions that compartmentalize this dread through manipulating fear concepts that trigger the inner struggle slowing down functional awareness while escalating the overwhelming frustration, still born to toil through laborious retreat into something rather than nothing…’ -out of Context.
out of Context -‘…become lost in the madness of achievement as it builds up the concrete and expected absolutes upon our shoes when taking the metaphorical long walk off a short pier for real in life this time, though never as others were predicting to occur as the worst of the worst case scenario viewed in a televised vision as fact projected onto the backs of the heads of that row in front of us traveling backwards and trailing the furthest most from those leading us all perhaps off the cliff side if we never start questioning where we are, knowing the journey is half the battle well on our way to the interdependence of a hero’s journey for all of us if we can handle living through the consequences past obstacles in our path…’
‘…what can a creature such as this fortuitous narrator mutating through phases of phrasing without much consistency to bridge the gaps that convey this information to you from me what do you see when this voice chimes in with every word read, possibly a picture describing the indescribable of biblical proportions though no legend from which to guide yourself to these words maybe if you had met me we could know this for fact and not sabotage or camouflage the truth with misconception and mythic exaggeration laying a heavy hand on our heads as children and into our minds as adulterated products of a society the localized individual does not wholly speak for…’ – out of Context.
out of Context -‘…while weaving through the human traffic that threatens to subsume or doom to damned room by room as emotion can strand those who cannot navigate to sink in those quick sands corrosion leaking out of the glass tower fragile so fast while shadows cast their glory stamps upon everything they touch or break “nothing lasts” kisses to these ears sounding shattered into planes of pane to further yet fragment still lives to shards fading vapors gas-lit memories past though not forgotten ever when some surprise remnant lingers long enough sat there fearing that every pain is a trigger that we must probe with blood-stained stool fingers coaxing deeper to figure out what dark unknown we’ve become curiously obsessed to death, as dancers…’
‘…the deals of random cause and effect affected adversely like Schrodinger’s cat by the observer, but alive or dead is never an end merely the separation or divorce perhaps from the infinite physical intoxicated states that can decay and displace what lies underneath the surface facade that slowly erodes away as features melt or fade… and yet on a whim of displayed conformity to the status quo to straddle the comfort zone the edged sword we must figure out a way to step from the sheltered insanity of a solely dependent feature, that provided for safety net made to question whether truly safe without a solidarity of the family unit may not mean stable no matter what horseplay goes down around a home if no guidance stays warding away ill winds that savor the negativity…’ – out of Context.
out of Context -‘…stray signals of knowledge as anxious to understand us if we can absorb this growth that compels the bodies we inhabit like fiends forward perhaps driving an inner motive we barely consciously relate to being not the creatures we expected with bro-magnon swagger and language that has gathered a momentum as gods’ vomit upon others in elements contracting as though they too do not matter, repercussions as they gather the motions of waves in ring and shatter amongst that flotsam and jetsam that clatter and din splash in spatters of blood set with the cryptic writing they are adrift in this sea of a consciousness devoted to witness devolution as society’s brain batters into some submission the collective tribe of the most substance and wealth…’
out of Context -‘…i started writing all this material to begin with as a challenge not an obstacle to aid in the personal evolution that each of us enters into without knowing how or what the journey entails, and whose entrails have come one-eighty degrees for me so the stagnancy ends now as i begin to wage a battle with myself and nature and words and whatever powerful series of forces influences my decisions to accept the renewed challenge starting next month to write and publish my thoughts or poetry or whatever stories i have to share with what little audience i really have in the Out There for what i hope will go further than a year of this consistent practice making me better mind body and soul…’
divinity made us digest the manifestations of a source whose silver cord from the motherboard is as vital an accessory as any hairs teased or plucked out of the visions beheld by few but those bodies eclectic enough to run through their river of life thoughtful of the safety switches that dismantle a system like this so thoroughly-upheld because otherwise total chaos is not reliable or so can be said by creators of a differing strain at odds because of the pain of elements like queer variables stacking up odds cracking the compulsion of worry and dread that possesses our souls for a collected sort of flawed creatures crawling as much as trolling the passersby whom trash each other by the age old rarified stench for which we find ourselves used to much like the climate and its ever-changing …
the dirt dug us deeply six feet from the last bodies that dropped there having made the mistake of dying so slowly that the world change around us to be tempted by watershed marks on the pavement left after the seas of our past in a strange repetition of the past sagas swept over the ruling parties standing tall and upright to mimic and strive boldly into those false fates first in rejection of a solid and stable foundation to begin the quest out there and thus finally finish the question over doubt and skeptical sermons about the powers-that-be being present though not altogether aware of the future that would rise pushing promotions of civilized solicitation and lobbied an insanity into existence out of nightmares barely credible outside of the human mind seen as alien more than simply other …
the screeching of the weasels and the cries of the carrots echo down in the park this jungle has become drumming as much free basing off of the fear ruling the streets to make the consequences more distinct to those who refuse to pay attention even though they realize the hollow highs costing us our space and time if we waste too much of it to then become just another lesson to be recorded to teach the hoarders to confess their syntax with languages so late they are deceased or believed to be that way oppressed as dead “men” have no tails or threads used in a long drawn out series of threats as solely benefits anyone adapted and dying to take advantage of the greater collective hard-pressed to commit to a better future in easy-made instructions written for …