out of Context;
‘within moments of achievement even these symptoms of a greater problem can still linger with people who might go so far as to make every argument about themselves unsound with an irrational basis in true understanding for human compassion, details describing just how bad we have it when we are somehow taken advantage of with all the aspects that make us trivialized and taken for granted that we are alive today moving inside a maze of fear… an enchanting Jimi Hendrix-phrased conundrum ‘if p was q’ when confronting the fallacy within logical argument using the nonsense eyes…’
out of Context;
‘whacked-out fiends, proliferating this ablyss without enough sense to rub together to create solid thoughts or valid schemes that might in this lifetime resemble dreams to look forward to without intruding onto others’ feet to do so, but even if this isn’t a trick used to catch us gasping as we grasp for some reason and logic like air in a breath caught reeling in our fears all in one second of reflection as though it were all destined for us to suffer through hell in each other… consequence in the nothing…’
out of Context;
‘lost to all these other forces at work as their truths come first amongst this more studious tedium steady as some stronger than average bonds are created between those various selves inside people… the shaman of shame have spread their servicing disease far and wide with the fellow peddlers of a mystery too trivial and specific to be mistaken for wisdom bought and sold to whoever is randomly willing to fall for the tricks and the gimmicks, anchored to the decisions we make by the drugs we take as the fools we become stay kids all along in our lives trying by force to control this ideal “growing-up” hole we are buried into…’
out of Context;
‘you don’t trust them with their flim-flam personal displays swaggering to take control if you don’t watch out for your whole, knots you cannot see linked though by invisible thread tied like the rest of us tied together for better or words that decide to sever their relationship forever with our essence in the which where we credit the winner with the glory of the massive a collection of souls weighing heavily upon the face of this earth as heathen as it may seem to be with regard to a killing deity dispatching without mercy, and it is we who become trapped in our own definitions needing to be broken in at least a house-broken way so that we are not responsible for cleaning the mess made after we have left…’
out of Context;
‘the house is empty of its contents, but ready to be filled with whatever the imagination can place there to be held until such a time as it is needed by the owner of the manse in question, a place hidden behind the inhabitant’s eyes inside the head as questionable visions sharpen the screaming nerve within each little thought to drive itself outside as though a demon-ridden assortment of clues used to gather evidence contrary to the idea that nothing had ever occurred… an ignorance taken too far to be of anything other than obnoxious detention of the truth tethered by the urgent hypocrisy that evades anything but some vague subjective definition on objectivity…’
out of Context;
‘heroes who might perhaps feel this way all the time locked away into pens of a preconception trading a near perfect likeness of immortality through expression where great people finally succumb as a caricature of themselves or their causes… no black and white, no this or that, only the grey of oblivion the beauty of grey as silent form of the shadow like a slow decay staking so many people who choose their fears over their feelings too often… it is reality which claims the fascist from decency or the decent urge towards community…’
out of Context;
‘defying the hasty compressed and panicked reality that distorts this picture of sanity into looking like shit most days out of the week before trying to cross over out from after this life on into some other that i alone cannot certainly define to be true, and glimpsing serious spills over into our dysfunctional forms of fun that cater to our caterwauling as howling hooligans who do not repent as this ain’t like no church y’all been in since Dionysis reigned as the given god of the moment… revelry taken to the hilt…’
out of Context;
‘in the hearts and minds of a people to hatch creatures of social perfection out of these egg-like nuclear families whose dysfunctions can be hidden by years of tension laid bare as nerve after nerve is further torn away by happenstance occurrences swirling like instinctual notions inside the cells set to detonate at any instant, a system like this dissolving from dangerous incisions as the reckless decisions travel boldly to the public surface suicidal venting made maximum history upon impact as we decide who lives and who dies so easily without regard for the human life it is caught wasted as fated by a system whose propaganda mantras advertised and televised to the extreme of content as the anonymous majority watches it all upon multiple channels… no wonder the bees are dying off at an alarming rate…’
out of Context;
‘motor soul aspects of the greater being we know as ourselves, and the variables consistent enough to give access between these analytic functions of consciousness and a baser body in motion as the beast resides within as much without as the many decades fitting layers that collapse into place revealing further definitive forces lodged deeper than merely flesh can contain, trying to find traction in the struggle that suffering alludes to as delicate banquet to the senses…’
out of Context;
‘shining as brilliantly as in moon and sun alight the trails through the stars and cosmic expansion narrowed in this becoming the you ever-changing as you are now as always will be, and even as the flesh melts away in slow death sways or quickly as in the emergency state of apocalypse stains that come like rain through the worm hole by state of the art blitz of nuclear hatred abused by shameful masters that plague us with ready disaster… pieces for free falling off into a pile on the floor as the body shatters apart like an explosion of molten hot core fragmented from the dirty bomb made to cure the infidel womb of its’ heathen possessions, in screaming out for more to claim the right to divide and to compare the evils we see…’