out of Context;
‘the deranged sits cranked up with volumes of visions intent in their separate planned schisms manifesting division between all of the senses as they flux and flow with the tensions affixed naturally within people, the sole inhabitant of the head once death has pulled the spirit from this vessel now spent from the voyage from this previous life living casually as though nothing else were going on in the cosmos except for themselves, but not necessarily a world as inhabited by the curious opportunist even though there are many scrambling for survival in taking all the pieces of the pie-eyed dream for their individual hoards…’
out of Context;
‘through this emotional vessel as the night drags day out of its cold cocoon to reignite in the mourning ritual as the phoenix rising from the ashes whether bird of prey or sent flying as the withering egg finally leaves nothing but rich growth in the flaming wake, and society made of stone and steel remains as a skeletal wasteland to turn into tomb transformed into a womb for the rest of the world and its next denizens crawling inside the space betwixt as the swirling orbit comes to rest bounded at all ends by the gods’ suture which fails to mend…’
out of Context;
‘jagged juxtaposition of particles sticking out and off-setting needs for better placement of parts, throwing all rules down the stares of a petty judgment and sudden thoughtless jerking emotions to tumble and break themselves as a glass all fragile and ready to be destroyed, and impudent minions trying to guard the appalling way that people treat each other like the unwanted shit clinging to the bottom of the shoe as their stinking opinion wafts over and through the nice neighborhoods…’
out of Context;
‘the essence of what we truly ever wanted in these individual chases for some better conclusions, my multiple meaning phrases summon themselves through me as though i were channelling electric spirits like a radio or television or logging into a vast majesty inside the digital universe discovered behind these cold flat screens as they filter our wishes through to be visible in this reality, and the windows makes for a good moniker in branding 100th monkeys out of all of us as we wait in line to buy the software and all of its updates rabid with enthusiasm at this modern wonder…’
out of Context;
‘fetishistic idea of a lifestyle where one’s sleepy solid comfort is the standard bearer to which all others become shit, we the inferior are littered everywhere that no one wants to try looking because the grime clinging to our bodies is a social crime in these parts of the civility that hates us for who we are trying to be… nightmare of our life to think we are going no where or to a place that doesn’t want us as used and thrown down a waded piece of living trash outliving the abuse, with or without the crutches makes no real difference only in the eyes of a judgmental authority of whose dead soul only manifests in hateful intent to purge the system of its dreck…’
out of Context;
‘the vast depths… is it safe?… not really… it never was even if you believe in all those myths because that machine is just as obsolete any more as the rust of the previous generations collapse and bury themselves like heads in the sand, and cringing cowardly as if appearing to yield, as though to allow the birth of a new strain of old worlds on mutant earth inhabited by actual hybrid creatures of worth beyond functional weight that requires to be served and protected like the swine whose self-assured fate rests upon the plate…’
out of Context;
‘the hammering of gods inside our heads won’t relent on the progress that sketches itself out as it surges forward to hit all the relevant points in forging the correction necessary to put others in their place… the fascist ones we are working against are reflecting the same energy that lifts and can make of the unsound whatever creatures we claim ourselves to be as a stalking and lethal movement takes over the minds of the serious and static who hold to killing, that urge to push the rest of this flaming wreck off the edge of an almost real cliffside drifting lost…’
out of Context;
‘as if this could excuse the behavior that throttles the human spirit with other spirits that do not tread so wisely as the human remains vessel for the other mutinous dogs on this ship of fools we are timidly traveling within, intoxicated with desire and need and want as we bleed for truth in this culture searching for an ideal monotrauma as though in some single violent awake synchronicity as the act which will somehow speed us toward a unified enlightening of thought or body or control of the soulless commodity passed out like candy…’
out of Context;
‘the victim gets better, if this were a spiritual toxin flowing through the system would it be so easily eradicated just by sucking on the right hole afflicting whatever the human thinks as truth getting deeply embedded in those personal neural networks that carry the signal far from the conscious struggle known nowadays as ‘reality’… a holographic trace that can link and store within this saturated brain of flesh and fluid locked inside our heads whatever we think bound with feeling and qualities of depth which are not so easily raced back to their sources, the tangents that drift between moment and memory…’
out of Context;
‘the vines writhe alive weaving the pattern together an unknown growing from a root of dark potential learning something for itself, a wisdom subtle and lurking like the lady of the lake to present the weapon of truth to the right person who will charge through lessons and make an example for the rest of us, but we each have some variation of agonist/ alienist heroics deep within us timed to be patient with the action though it would appear to ooze slowly as the lazy avaricious desire of the population so thoroughly comforted and sheltered with no role specific until we discover it on personal questing to reveal the self as it appears to each of us… we were conceived with an eye toward the ideal of the population becoming enraptured with its convenience culture jam…’