out of Context;
‘however, there are no instruction manuals as we are all gathered about in this sandbox filled with filth and all those other materialist toys to use with a tyrannical touch, and we are forced to understand their technology in order to survive their games that they play both in our minds and with our bodies… we force ourselves to understand what we only know fragments of as we dream, all the various life times melding together in this aspect of the unreal made flesh-bound matter beast, and Here we are at the cross-hatching of line where laws and rules are only used to sway the tight vote in one direction of certainty over another… the man-made treatments that have left psychic echoes resonating for all to pick up on…’
out of Context;
‘swiveling like some ocular oracle implanting suggestions in the mind’s eye, blind and ever-loving of the violent peace crashing in as the calming tsunami sending pulses miles onto shore, and the nervous reaction to this intense and vital bliss leaving an excruciating afterburn on the taste-buds as the mouth leaks words to wonder by in these dusky diverse concepts possibly based around some vicious lie… keep talking to that part of ourselves that tries to shield us away from the blissful release on life, talking it out of the harassing order it seems to want clockwork when all bodies in motion work on their own timing Here, but in the least reclined state to better advance through the years intact as the shells wear thin… where do we depart, oh ghoulish friends?…’
out of Context;
‘the distorted mind tries to cope as best it can with the infrequency of certainty, we are going to die, but that never means that it should ever be in the constraint of a society that forgives nothing… a creation that has no humane presence has no power governing human beings, making hybrid ideas of perfect biological waste that is toxic to the touch and taste, and from underground we have installed the systems that need to be manually maintained in order for there to be water and power… it seems as though there is no room for the individual, the effort of work from each person accounted for true, but when it comes to the economy of the matter all that can be stated is that there is no real compensation…’
out of Context;
‘more magical of quaint slight connections between artist-music-audience… i feel like we will meet again with the like of these two Kevins in the near phuture, even if it does require the power evoked by new Nny Ppy music roused from the deep, but for now i look forward to the Killing Joke concert in the close-by in the city farther away than Here… maybe fifty dollars will get me a chance to meet them on top of tickets and driving there, and i better have my custom flag ready to give…’
out of Context;
‘the retrolink jerking-off in the sinking grave god gave him, at last trying to reveal a past some sense of the spectral anchor, but fighting back the mortal yearn for connection seems antithetical to the human condition… may the false fates first move out of the skeletal antechamber that is my head, to grasp another possible belief in reality fostered by the words and truths of other people in relatively similar situations, but always under the generally upheld auspice of the human being… an organism both mammal and lizard, as the hot courses against the cold in rivers within the soul…’
out of Context;
‘we get automatically confused when entering into a foreign experience, at least the first run through, and then afterward there is no question of process or means… sometimes letting our trust get away with us, allowing a particular aspect of the system utilize us as an example somewhere, and even letting the system put additives into the water supply just to teach us a life-long lesson of how to adapt to a toxic environment…’
do we really need this now?
the ghosts of the past bait us to think raw thoughts on our own… breeding dismay at our own actions… from where does this ephemeral holy spirit come?… this salty gooey fluid from between the thighs and in-between the eyes and ears… a jolting sensation that brings temporary satisfaction and comfort… feelings only seen in the interactions of coitus extreme experienced to dreamy pleasures witnessed only amid the few potential inhabitants… ectoplasmic orgasmic joy… the recreation in explosions and bursts of wholly unknown substance… a quintessence that truly defines this place we find ourselves within… the stroking gesture warranted through the cash and crisp barter for services rendered as the fluid is expelled… maybe true happiness lies in not having to shoot a load across the room… lies maybe in the tender embrace of another instead of the lip-smacking …
out of Context;
‘the electric impulse is always there, and always has been, even as we would try our best to forget it or make believe that we can control or manipulate its validity… there is no ending if there is no stopping, and Here is where we go when it is time for the next steps to infinity, this is where we all meet the same walls and learn to dismantle them in order to renew… the forces that we have become are inescapable, but not without relent’
The parallels are everywhere Here… Sleep equals death equals ether equals time/space equals birth?
What exists after we awake?… Birth into sleep and back around again.
