out of Context;
‘by previous gods we worshiped into a stillborn truth as dying proof of an end… the signs and symbols eat faith and vision as the bound beast born of flesh cycles through imperfection in many realms of conscious attention in constant motion, the warrior-hero within is always battling against the dying of the light whether the person becomes poet or fighter is no different than any other projection of this inner force representing that spark eternal that flares and flickers passionately inside us all…’
out of Context;
‘sentience from a supposed boundless nothing of “loosened” dark matter called outer space where any time flows slowly relative to the depth to which one bends the light into speed of consciousness as time/ space waxes and wanes, and the holes tear open themselves to reveal other lives yet to exist behind the curtain of this idiot flesh that these days consumes and abuses into oblivion as ragged puppets fed by addiction and a stunted growth yielded on sinister feelings that made to betray the lively caring foolish Self…’
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;
‘that shattering awareness as one grand undoing of reality, but i distrust its perspective to inform me as honestly because this is a very dispensationalist way of viewing things that do not have such absolute certainty as what amount to the entrails of a single life not wasted no matter how much the odd consciousness might lean and talk sick, the actual reality we think we see remains elusive to the analytic sense of sight that gets too often taken for granted to be replaced once the seeing facet has dispelled itself as the creature has reached a point at which that space is filled in by all the other senses available in order to sustain the individual life… a true organic prosthesis that moves independent of its masters…’
out of Context;
‘the works of others perhaps seeming more alien to our own differences and tastes, but allowing access to the grand Akashic records of thought and feeling and mood and texture that are ever out there awaiting someone to achieve understanding as bliss and blessing among the blind and the comfortable, the ministrations of the elite class are siphoning more and more from what little authority we hold as the WholE sits slack-jaw and waiting for an oblivion to free us from our holding cell as death is a final fatal Mystery to behold…’
out of Context;
‘inside our heads we are thinking that it can only be possible to find true love with either one’s self or by default in mutual blindness with another groping along the walls to find emotions unheard of before Now never acknowledging compassion or courtesy behind the eyes… the toxic smell of belief gone horribly wrong even though we might seem quite used to the wafting haze in a dreamy revelry sort of work and activity, the digital selves yelling out ‘yee-haw!’ as the genetic sequence spins them out of time in a spent uranium doctor Strangelove kind of ride into the next bold age to sunder and scorch the inescapable lie those traits of fate in some holographic fractal symbol for life to which we may ascribe as features of the ‘demi-urge’…’
out of Context;
‘IT’ is that this machinery lacks from becoming a living whole in a retarded collective of urges on loan from the higher organisms that eat and feed on the soul watching with glued eyes as the human drama unfolds from life to life to change the bizarre ways of Mankind into a humanity worth developing further along the cosmic chain of events in time-honored traditions of the past, but legions open on the fringe hope that some slip or miss will occur to make the confidence loosen the skin bounded on bones with as limber hearts and muscles and tone can be aging the souls to shortened wavelengths all trying…’
out of Context;
‘shapes moving and shifting into other pronounced objects of abjection as the will wanders closer to an edge perceived on the fringes of polite consuming urges as though quantified and qualified by the lack of respect we claim not to adhere to, but a lusty whim exists that reaches for the exit of every creature in order to have fabricated the next movement as something more ever evolving in form… a collection of traits and tainted repercussions as the face distorts and chortles with that demon laughter from the abyss or well of souls that awaits our return one day too soon, and some of us we pray that we do not become as prey…’
out of Context;
‘early on, church was not a word i associated with comfortability or community but with constriction and the kind of elitism that allows the shunning of another human being out of superstition and status correction, and obviously that did not come to last in my childhood as you may call it the devil inside me that ached against such restrictive bonds… i say as yet we are still in the throes of so many other obligatory vectors that combat our psyches on a constant basis when struggle over unity should be the last things to force themselves upon our minds, but even before i was ever conceived of…’
out of Context;
‘i might have heard had i listened for longer than the two seconds i normally allow, straining my ears to hear back to a time when other happenings might have occurred and even a pounding bass noise from fantasy perhaps were all things lost in the debris that i tossed in my share to clean the mess and without attending the party… a first from their history in that house where discord kept company with all the drunken debauchery, and perhaps sleeping gently still to this very day but none will know except for the inhabitants that linger and congregate where discord and fate shall not wither…’