out of Context;
‘the doldrums of waiting for something to happen with nervous energy, and an ear for the next ordered move to come, wondering in silence over the state of things as they are… feeling anxiety prickling the back of my neck as my curiosity wanders the emotions and thoughts inseparable in my mind’s eye somewhere…’
out of Context;
‘there are dark times ahead of us just as there are dark times behind the mask of progress, we have had to deal with it always fluctuating between the black/ white world we were raised with, but was there ever any mention of the grey area from authority on any levels?… no… because that would stem the flow of the raping machine…’
out of Context;
‘a wrought-iron pin stabbing through the fever-pitch brain as it melts the eyes in my head, the nerves inside are far too burned out to be repaired, or so it would seem from the insight out…’
out of Context;
‘fuel to the fires in the furnace of the damned, a recreational tool for the foolish preacher man, and perhaps submitting to the greater good means doing what makes me happy instead of doing what i should… this infernal vision is not without the plastic plan…’
out of Context;
‘we walk with the crutches we were given from the beginning, but at some point even these break down, meaning the need to find new and better crutches sooner than later… threatened by my self desire while at the same time betrayed by the obligations i almost literally signed up for while i had the opportunity…’
out of Context;
‘the tragedy is that we still resist, and give-up in a balancing act that will deprive as much as deprave all the rest of us, making tests of us to find out who is the best of us…’
out of Context;
‘you are all lunatics perverted by the lack of real control that I might seem capable to sustain…’
a good day over the seeming halts and craggy orifices of thoughtful mention so far… there is a flair to rainy holidays from hell… with only a fraction of time between me and my love wasting away during the Valentine’s day holiday weekend, and no sign of bad luck this time around… what taints this day so?… I know not… love is not a hapless victim this time around, but solidified thing to enjoy….or so it would seem… the tricks and the trade are one and the same… games of a different name… not to be confused with meddling mask or machete… no camping or crystal clear lakes… yet the haunting trill of bad luck screams ominous… a gentle strumming of the heart strings perhaps… does the hatred for everyone mean a love for something as special?… what living …
original songcraft by C.Michael Keaton
excerpt; ‘…break the cycle
life seems unfettered now
sane to hurt and fear
take from me what’s hidden
break it all down…’
out of Context;
‘…the adult of the species grows weaker in their narrowed mind… there is no gap Here, in the psychosis of reality, but the grown-ups say it is so by way of concrete reason… scandalous, I describe the diatribe that we all scare ourselves with, the grown and less-than-grown… I fear that those I intend to read such piddle never will…’