out of Context;
‘unlike my parents now, i still have a vibration of rebellion to guide my attentions even at this critical juncture in my life, and i regret that my parents seem lodged in the simplistic attitude that money can solve the world’s ailments all alone… not with all those subtle economic monopolies going on behind the scenes on that stage of powers that be, this aged mentality is slowly coming to a halt as the generations are collapsing after us, and it seems this bubble of life amidst a cold sea of the deathly eternal holds all the heat and warmth for a limited span of time acquired by these strangely human figures at the forefront… the continuum seems to glide along the track like a monorail through space and the linear existence of history…’
out of Context;
‘the people Here need to decide if they really want such corrupted fascist nazi pigs to guide them to the abattoir, and it is the very same slaughterhouse run and maintained by those identical indifferent people as we who run the world by default because higher blame-shifting echelons force the world to move to a sacrificial beat… the rhythm of death and taxes that most of us know by rote are utter and demeaning lies told to the youth again and again to eat away their minds from the inside, as though like a parasite set behind the skull and looking through our universal eyes to find our weaknesses to exploit them as easily as we change moods, but to dismiss them is no way to dispel those dark territories as ignorance is limited protection…’
out of Context;
‘the instinct being to follow those angular rhythms back to their respective cues and sources until the gradual spreading the individualized standards as facts makes narrowed gaps for individuals to find their niches as though a series of wish fulfillment as the genie pops out to play on occasion, but only when some unlucky fool rubs the lamp the wrong way does any of this come about as severely like tire damage… it is a good thing we ride on these hooves as the horses stride along impervious to the heat and barren waste appearance of this desert realm, the barbarous tribes manage well in the dirty plains and cracked mounds of sand slipping through the grasp of time…’
out of Context;
‘we speak with mouths sewn shut when spoken to, tongues cursed as the words leave our lips, and we give into those heartless tricks the vital energy that sparks this sudden burst of life sprayed all over the six walls forming the cells and our hallowed halls of power in cycles gone wrong… the cursed are ruling the world, and making our lifeforms into sufferers as sacrificial lambs delivered to the evil to further their own ends through betrayal and manipulations making most of us wish we were extinct, for which there are far too many words to write Here to convey the point without too many glaring-eyed stares eating and suckling for a taste of my wares…’
out of Context;
‘lately, the ghosts have begun to transcribe their own works of fiction, but with no motive to get it published through the usual channels of dismissive corporate entities rejecting and interjecting those various stages of approval before it feels used and finished… a trial and tribulation in the variation of a vibrant situation as thoughts to be pasted on the board, the odd trance of immortality as special obtainable goal parallel with a need for money to render the peripheral things alive even through all the years, and we begin to draw and describe the energies that our guts may tell us is to blame for being tossed around in this insufferable storm of confusion that matures with today’s motions…’
out of Context;
‘i need to get out of this stage of being excited and frightened in the same breath as the rest of these ill-mannered verbal assaults, not letting my individual aspect to psyche so easily collapse under pressure of any unreal ideas curious what might happen, but in a perfect world maybe there is the perfection necessary to promote a mechanical type of natural harmony… however, this is no perfection what we have co-opted so haphazardly in establishing Here, and earth is the home where the heart is set as the outpost for drooling hordes of so-called “civilized” unrest ready to manage a real life among the humans… these are no tiny feats that one could use to create an unfaltering foundation for the rest of their breed extending outward with one body of atrophied genes…’
out of Context;
‘it is so totally unfair how we have let bureaucracy take over for our substance of freedom, what madness is this that sucks us into its grip, and then tethers us to one spot if we allow ourselves to appear complacent when really it is a case of doing what we what we can to free ourselves from the painful organization of fiends endlessly provoking us into their actions of choice… sometimes you have to learn how to feel like a villain, it is only by learning not to fear oneself that allows for unlimited adaptation to a treacherous world, and we are ill-equipped from the beginning because of a powerful cultural bias presented before our birth… how rotten is that?… we have no in-bred compassion, my friends, it is a learning experience in the ever-present…’
out of Context;
‘whether nun or priest or some perfect sainted thing dressed and blessed and saved beyond the human suffering death wish to let the strongest yet survive and live… the build-up popping of the facial blemish like a volcanic wretch over all life that is known to wipe the slate clean yet again, some people pray for this to occur without consulting the rest and thinking the worst of whatever is out there, and then they might say that this is for our own good with villainous cackle included as the finger presses hard upon the nuclear vessel that humanity has become… defeated by the radioactive, the next form that defies logic of death or disease beyond light and restriction of authority, but we are held in place by lifetimes of intra-contradictory meanings and methods to organize something…’
out of Context;
‘sometimes the state of reality is too overwhelming for the passionless mutants that stomp and wail against the perceived insult of actual human intelligence, but these inhumans have found their ways into political forums that dispose of the respect and credibility deserved of one who actually tries to motivate positive change… we are vain and we are blind, we hate people who are not polite, but a heavy reliance on this principle alone is false and leads a society astray… we quip and insult our way into taking advantage of others who we do not even know with factual evidence of their decency…’
out of Context;
‘as a warrior upon perhaps a purest path to take past all perverted grace of leprous debt insane resuscitated joining hands to force the energy forth like hardcore flaneurs roaming the streets with no hope for a future setting of day and night in cycles of systematic repetition… not nihilists but hopeless idlers wandering aimlessly through dark stone columns of souls variously lit at spots like some vibrant everlasting torch or candle expelling darkness in a short halo around its view of the city, the pants are worn at the knees and see-through to some degree while these stains from the blood will not go away, and the washing machines walk among the mad unyielding fiends you get used to seeing everyday…’