out of Context;
‘the larger conscious swing of polarities constantly adapting that raw power of true knowledge to this animal world, but a savage emotional undertow curling spirits and souls of all forms into the works of fluctuating particulate realistic and within a material universe where multitudinous are neural varieties all channeling energy to and from multiple other parallel organic networks and levels of circuits within the use of the overall system… we are defined as human clone always searching for an oblivious projection of perfection to last the ages as some symbol of reality to be guided and carved by the chosen artisans behind the dark curtains of secret ritual, in the personal performance acting as the counter-balance to false modes of wisdom which twist and worm through the brains of men working the human electric devil…’
out of Context;
‘religion is dead as the ultimate authority over our placid collective heads as locked away into those occult spaces where thought and feeling seem destined to collide like worlds praying for some collaboration of energy, conjoined by wishes and fishes swimming in the see with neanderthal faces eating the youth with abandon as we have always tried devouring each other in some circle jerk aesthetic that feeds our wasted bits and bytes of data back to us…’
out of Context;
‘within the continuum, the human being as one step before the human doing in action is able to reduce the total baggage that plunges each of us into the dark cesspool like an anchor pulled through by wave after wave of bludgeoning pulse holding the breather to drown, and much like every other true landlubber so far gone wrong as offshore we have discovered what lies are over the edge of the conscious world of sharp and flat shit piled and burying all the necessary manners and motions in polite forgetfulness…’
out of Context;
‘with rancid and hollow expectation discomforting the general masses to sickness and death… the sea of shadows dances across the night dismal as it approaches unsuspecting prey for a transfusion of the negative phantasm abysmal coming from the yelping mouths going on to make current situations worse by leaps and bounds of faith in bondage by the narcotic eroseptic (septic and erotic) swaying of the beasts upon their knees, praying to the gods they cannot see even the gremlin cancer shapes itself under the skin of a decadent consciousness enraged as much as it is engorged upon the bloody succulence that comes with this kind of absolute devotion to praise and bewilderingly vague ideals that command to hold holy not the logical respect given to creatures like you or i…’
out of Context;
‘the human being many times over or to subvert the scripted words previously agreed upon originally once a host of men making unholy pacts were created by this greedy god cycling out those who weren’t special anymore… in our super-sheltered homeland of security, a man cannot fuck another man out of fear for what the group considers ‘good’ in the slightest context of comfort or need for companionship, and this is a factor of disagreement between a people and its taboos… where once hushed tones were used to describe sex, even further back before them were peoples and tribes that spoke openly of sexual relations as common understanding that only since we have needed to be subjugated objects of desire have we needed to affect as though aware of respect for the rest of the species…’
out of Context;
‘humors that come with the territory… we create the isolation that digests us in the many millions of faceless people that abhor us, the human a porous substance through which many liquids and gases and issues assume an authority by means that lead to command of the human bodily functions, and made real through the prism in the soul whose light fluctuates with mood and enlightened attitudes all from growth to death projecting out onto the world what is interpreted from the depths of humane tissues… contradictions with every breath, a substantial imperative to play the game their way…’
out of Context;
‘his feral pack type and tap away like a grand organic motor grinding away to hit the one-armed bandit square in the jackpot, but we can only achieve that through realizing the symbols don’t manipulate us any better than we are capable of better managing them instead whether they be words or syllables in this dementia… dimensional travel always in flux, and perhaps a long fabled dimensional quality at which is constantly being reached for and striven after by the experimenters and shamanic sorts who perceive greater than the mere happenstance charisma of the living world, one sign apparent to me as the Lord is merely a supervisory role with strong evolutionary characteristics of vestigial realities as shit it clings to the digestive wall in our imaginations… a collective story somehow in ways taken for granted…’
out of Context;
‘retract from these strange and excitedly shallow people, and the ideas that they try to spread like some kind of low intensity germ that slowly begins to bring others with wealth around to their purview of rationalization… the Little Lord pandemic hit in the late 1880’s, and the denizens of this time period were so in love with the carrot waving idea that they too could be a prince in a pauper’s clothes that literate madness the equivalent of Potter-mania today became a show-stopper as the clothes made the young man, the idealized form of boy-king turned into a fashion statement back then… the prince and the pauper, show stopper, babbler-dabbler self-confessed criminal…’
out of Context;
‘awareness for logical conclusions to which would naturally allow the stable ideas of liberty that can bring most of us together instead of driving ourselves apart… the mechanical lust that has forced our hand to throw down the gauntlet in protection of the raping machine as the faceless progress rolling over a humane organism whose corpse need not appear dead at all Here even as the chrome and wires and circuits raise hell all over the flesh like a bad scene from Superman III perhaps, an aw-shucks-to-position oneself condemning the more protozoan of us to death everlasting in a very base assessment of pure logic and absolution by riddle, but my thoughts and words are merely conjecture until proven as otherwise or until fear has pried loose the truth from cold dead hands…’
out of Context;
‘the English monarchy had it this way and the corporate scum have followed suit in the new ages since the industrial revolution last, but sometimes a fifth of scotch given out to couriers since those long lost olden days where people thought that gatherings would be pleasant through the bitter reunions as the “day of goodwill” commences among the holiday crushed Here in a human side to reality’s cold sting… still a part of the unholy shopping fury that comes in the season of Grummet afterward in which people seem to reconcile between the materialistic and spiritual aspects within their own true nature, in the aftermath of an annual mass consumption of goods and services where gods are praised but in which few are very relevant to a modern situation these days…’