out of Context;
‘the game cannot be told to the outsiders and those that happen to have their eyes sight exposed then opened to these shadow tactics hidden from those who sleep deeply enough to just slip away lost very casually almost trivially these souls and the ghosts left wandering between worlds of past future present and all locales interstitial to the dimensions greatly speculated over by physical scientists and philosophers and seekers of truth made manifest by the forces holding us to our actions until we respect our personal steps and imprints placed Here in a series of sections some may consider as chapters simplified for the many who do not understand these things… as biblical proportions go we are cut up in a few dozen billion pieces of partially conscious information in walking living organic portals…’
out of Context;
‘the rooster or peacock whose job is to play alpha while praising jah when wobbling on our morals and ethics while in the midst of managing to raise the stakes a little bit higher as though this were something to bet upon… the precise demonic prods culling the queues to an unusual excuse used to abuse the forced of their good behavior projected out onto others to create a mythological message that fulfills a self-manifesting prophecy pushed along by that ambiguous consciousness that sometimes lack a minds’ eye for conscience the science perhaps of conscious pursuit of caring and compassion as solipsistic trial by effort returning those curious elements animating the corpses-to-be we are Here becoming more than animal or aliens trying to perceive what human means…’
out of Context;
‘the purpose to pose as victims of that deathly taste the faceless true god we have all submitted to gracelessly slipping from this conscious consensus bequeathed to us to hem and hum and hah overtly over and over again, or are we faithfully faceless merely as anyones forgotten the centuries drift dripping by as these sands we have convinced ourselves is all Here short supplies on these heathen islands called ‘planets’ by a contrived concept of historical frayed ends left questioning what this is exactly whether really as the scene was specified comes around to our way or not in resolving the personally bitter end increments of any endless wanderings meandering towards those vaulted spaces taken when granted we tried to grunt as specific syllables in the form of fragile bridges that we do eventually abridge…’
out of Context;
‘dysfunction fashioned by some as being hip… these people are idiots and in the long run we all die anyway so what other conclusion does one need except nihilism and love when the crass and embittered sides of our thoughts require that fuel surging triumphant fury through the furnace a soul becomes channeled properly though never with the programs one sees upon the tv screens causing bewildering patterns to emerge when no one else yet is to look in timed harmony with the rest as humanity stacks its invisible odds on the worst bets, surrender was never words talked about when heavy doubts are revealed exposing the trends for any possible mends for that cosmic tapestry we are caught lounging on as seen by some perhaps as a still life from afar on islands of free will…’
out of Context;
‘a bliss on repeat as a hell might seem if released unleashed creating a victim of self we may liken to the ‘beast’ gone into a frenzy in front of the wrong people and their people to then be held totally accountable for the smashed fury crashing through sudden suspense then faces grey with disbelief that this could be as one of those devilishly intense phases we all read about or see on tv allowing us a pseudo-experience through the viewing, but we are still reactionary puppet heads used to represent our districts when given the chance though good leaders are still very difficult to find and the times are far in between such years of any offices on magnitude of that authority which seems to have never been taken seriously against the grain…’
out of Context;
‘tactics followed since birth for many of us scraped off the shoe in a time of needy betrayals and unfit figures taking turns or letting go once things turned sour as milked wounds pushed onto burn over sparking nerves left to drag the dark past open to flame on charcoal balefires scalding those persons who were often women in ages comparable to those cultures now who were wrongfully condemned to be put down after being chased and hunted usually as a game played by the richest for sport while few of those skills were able to actually apply as those same distracted eras thought to have separated completely from medieval times are that wrong, and far from truth as though gods would say anything was deserving of painful punishments that could ensure that death wouldn’t be quick…’
out of Context;
‘plot twists become more apparent or transparent as the case may be sooner than we think as the destroyed pieces left charred creating itself anew remains untouched by human frailties to subsume again by authority of nature’s grasp held highly above the heads of the Mankind who has force fed the mother on His poisons distilled from Her beauties borne each children of the surrounding territories as shepherds and friendly families of farming as communities respecting the inherent beliefs instilled by godless signals communicated directly from one source toward any of the one’s who would listen though few are true to the response the consensus godhead would allow reality to form into, but the Now takes shape anyway no matter the differences as created awkwardly distressed by this life or the next ones…’
out of Context;
‘casting that saturnalian cornucopia set short against a backdrop of Clemmons’ situational aesthetics in principle becoming action gashing out the eye of a preconceived notional taboo with the one long goddamn motherfucking pinkie nail that says …”maybe you will die from this or maybe you won’t” though survival leaves all sorts of scars behind into wounded truths half-abused to our deaths respectively wrongly conceived as badly running gag force fed what another’s understanding meant only to them beginning and ending as butcher and meat considered a crude symbiosis gory slick with blood and oils in a quicksand vacuum then of Manmade toxic creation after the fact it releases into a time-sensitive exhibit extolling virtues by the dozens and the vices wrapped up tightly nightly are over guilty feelings whose self-discipline makes for unique relationships between people…’
out of Context;
‘proof of instinctual voices kept at bay for one’s own reasons and troubled consciences in convincing any other in debates of declarative statements subtly promoting the ego to controlling status, and dominating by threats of debt and holding future generations form for this bureaucrat and more than likely his bureau-crass-crazy ass scheme to curse the Other’s family with a stigma so unrelenting that nothing but those intermissions of these personal agents of the general law inserting themselves as deeply into the situation as possible while infecting all with the same kind of govern-us-mental spew toxified up to the waste in fresh err burning rivers of drinkable water, but it never stops there either when the transference of power warps us so dramatically as if the elixir were only the material component manifested to allow the spirits…’
out of Context;
‘motion digesting the moves as frugal centrifuge refusing to die with everything that can be spent its states of being lucid dreaming at rest at best questions unanswered confessing consequence by obliterating witness can dead or alive sometimes comes back to die again demanding the fall of corrupted elders in whose just was jest at best an arrest through answers too heavy to fathom to full content queasy even to nauseous revolt as the eye divine sees in vivisecting sways of color with this system’s use of words scratching wounds that don’t bleed but never heal to be the only thing revealing latter day half-truths as proof of whose dead eyes seeing the believing in full fruit dropping it once the bitter juice bleeds through condemning the natural witches’ brew underneath as cycles of demons disguised…’