out of Context;
‘the more surly and tweaky of these bikers of doom considered themselves worthwhile art critics, and were mocking instead of treating the art like true objets as had some of the more vocal critics having condemned the works back in the days before gangs were feared for losing their heads while torturing raping and killing victims…’
out of Context;
‘left with a helpless jobbery robbing us of our dignity instinct for a freedom in distracted boredom without ideas to enslave or escape made tainted by our faith in mindless idiot dismissal of outside integers compliment to bans and taboos as which can traumatize and confuse our movements, dropping jobbies upon the lawn of any elitist sociopathic blight screwing our ears closed to other truths via the mind-wiping urge designated progress by some affluent side of vying to understand this human plague any further by torturing and then starving the creative impulse through opportunistic ides of mechanism turned modern profits in murderous attempts at gaining played, and the jobsworth fools with their petty wits wrapped around themselves in vicious defensive stance…’
out of Context;
‘forced into the outside wildernesses… the words never to live up to their expectations as are lying littered along the sides of the information supra highways and byways with all their feeder roads leading to a home absorbed organic sum thing as the boldest love palpable and capable to palpitate the fear out of the heart beating and tearing and hearing the same rhetoric again and again as once deeply seated belief turned into sin, distorted by madness as retorted and reported once a melancholy err wafts over the crowded snare set to trap both those willing and this unwilling dementia that craves not to behave but to fathom the absolute depths of a conscious mess…’
out of Context;
‘like that elusive in happiness that has been used as those swinging karats of value and worth hung so dapper like faulty chandeliers of the poor and deluded whose use has been commodified by these dollar whores on the loose, the truth is much more difficult to swallow when it is true because of curiosity filling in those mysterious gaps gaping in the pattern of every story allowing no few sadistic false cure-alls to proliferate the system with bottled infections or their confectionary weapons sinister and decadent to prevent the followers from following too closely to those they’ve chosen as leaders…’
out of Context;
‘to wield change for enlightenment like scripture of feats to socially assume the roles we play to fit like twelve ignorant apostles seated around your jesus christ waiting to die while the depicted supper seems to last forever… questioning whether we can ever make respectful appeal to the spirits that lurk just inside of what we consider ‘food’ no matter how diverse and strange the range may be to those who don’t give even a second thought to or respect for the novel flavors just outside of the experience gained to be retained and savored…’
out of Context;
‘these distracted wretches as they move from one state to another when passing over… showering us with ideas of golden glories made epic myths with which to try following for most of our lives in lies sinking in up to our fat heads until the stinking corpse floats ashore caught in the webbing and the exploiting nets of those frequently delving into the abyss for facts as gems, there are many systems of value to utilize when questing for spiritual truth as individual pursuits…’
out of Context;
‘you don’t trust them with their flim-flam personal displays swaggering to take control if you don’t watch out for your whole, knots you cannot see linked though by invisible thread tied like the rest of us tied together for better or words that decide to sever their relationship forever with our essence in the which where we credit the winner with the glory of the massive a collection of souls weighing heavily upon the face of this earth as heathen as it may seem to be with regard to a killing deity dispatching without mercy, and it is we who become trapped in our own definitions needing to be broken in at least a house-broken way so that we are not responsible for cleaning the mess made after we have left…’
out of Context;
‘ritualizing the lifestyle like the slaves to extracurricular idols as saints with the church veneer and the shining screen teeth eating against type the believers and their beliefs like a treat or snack of casual urge to consume, but to assume the ends means nothing of the result of attacking with a hunger gnawing restlessly in aggressive longing to conquer the meal one presumes to give its livelihood for a value in the devourers’ cookbook canceling one residual avenue for food… sustenance in small steps taking critical charge as the visually gory love for blood pours off from the screaming faces raped and tortured in scenes witnessed flickering through a tiny window quantified by experience of cheapened trauma allowing the dismissal of the real fates of the human beings…’
out of Context;
‘the journey of living makes some more weary than others swaying and bound to fall overboard into fathomless waters in this dream made up of seamen as the roles we are fit to tailored to serve as a crew as each member keeps the vessel moving along toward the horizon line beyond this life, and the body can have its’ own agenda and will not always care who thinks themselves at the helm or controls of this ship… you can either ship wreck or ship rock and enjoy the ride feeling the waves sway you side to side as you glide like the rest of us, some of the others cruise at speeds too volatile to handle as a general guiding rule for anyone else to apply, but constantly we miss the flowing of substantial progress…’
out of Context;
‘an unwavering clarity in this… the respect for those dolled-up waifs traveling in circles far too distant for me to rotate within as the whips and chains of the soul are bared teeth savoring the taste and the consistency of skin as device of thrilling conclusions and endless romanticism with sensual possibilities pulling some of us along by a leash, and the tightened collar grip the mass-ters tug upon to control this defenseless puppy’s hold on reality becomes much too much while that tightening costume of the gimp wears thin in small increments that make the skin itch for tender mercies or a pledge for forgiveness from those wielding the power over who stays and who goes, but the sweat and the screams for those few brief glimpses helped the victim absorb the terror by indulging…’