out of Context;
‘in the hearts and minds of a people to hatch creatures of social perfection out of these egg-like nuclear families whose dysfunctions can be hidden by years of tension laid bare as nerve after nerve is further torn away by happenstance occurrences swirling like instinctual notions inside the cells set to detonate at any instant, a system like this dissolving from dangerous incisions as the reckless decisions travel boldly to the public surface suicidal venting made maximum history upon impact as we decide who lives and who dies so easily without regard for the human life it is caught wasted as fated by a system whose propaganda mantras advertised and televised to the extreme of content as the anonymous majority watches it all upon multiple channels… no wonder the bees are dying off at an alarming rate…’
out of Context;
‘a bullet in the head as more complex communication of catastrophe to each remote viewer in the distance witnessing the waste collecting as though dead flakes in the dust shed and blowing with boring winds carving caves from mistaken veneer of merely rocks and surface terrain that humans would have as beings as paved of a skin and blood, and frightening the massive that pulses with raving frenzy to shock and cause harm to this vapid system that carries us and our souls as sour parasitic eggs on its back trying to crawl away with the cursed obligation to whatever this spastic machine attempting an unwieldy fusion of time and space for all of us to inhabit as we would somehow find loyalty for our family or any other relation…’
out of Context;
‘the spiritual essence that gives us the i-don’t-know-what to achieve these grand heights to which we have become accustomed and taken as granted, in this strange conundrum of feats and defeats outweighing those true opinions we have for ourselves unless otherwise prevented on the individual level where others decide our idea of fate and destiny to which we may eventually fall prey to machinations or plots that portray us in as socially unflattering a light without the simple courtesy for our basic knowledge, and from the outside we all appear as mechanical animals to a robotic extreme unkind to the idea of human error because to justify one vile act is to excuse others…’
out of Context;
‘the real heretics are the ones who refuse to see and stay open to the active truth that does not stay idle while others allow their minds to stagnate and dry to the traditional excrement they have been fed for ages since calamity was a vital motivation on someone’s score board, though the games are now convoluted in their rules and regulations defining the space of the gameplay as it requires players to adapt to the system as it stands to work within it as it might distract one away from reality whatever it may be other than actually sitting off to the side trying to hide the relevant facts from the rest of the tribe, and trying to isolate those who take sides by deciding to become the villains…’
out of Context;
‘the odd looping surge to one’s own practical version of reality while syphoning the negative affliction out of the wounds for its’ own good, to learn by experience and not just in hearing about it second-hand from some street thugs or goons who never wanted to know any better except by jumping straight into the fire, and not as though all of these ridiculous conversations about filth and doom and the endings that we prophesied soon how they were going to subsume the world with all of our worst traits… just as the idea of a roaring hot blaze is expected in the fireplace…’
‘sitting in this vessel wondering what autonomy we could truly deserve as sub-space culture of demon worms pouring out of the thick bloated colon of past-prime demagogue… i don’t need all this heavy trash like recycled metal weighing down my strained bravery that defies law, tricks of the abyss in a tender kiss that miss the point completely as far as understanding what one can truly embrace…’
out of Context;
‘subtly haunting the bodies committing themselves to this nonsense as ever in motion… striving to hide the hive mind behind occulted rituals and subtle stinging words used to manipulate the population into subconscious fear games that push us all to compete in the great hunt as predator or prey, and as some of the more deluded prepare themselves to die in the struggle alone as wild beasts…’
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;
‘in the distracting qualities of assessing the situation… the struggle to survive the hustling which keeps this behemoth alive and killing its residents Here, resisting the act of omnipresence endorsed by a society that would prefer to shuttle those who cannot be controlled into their manufactured prisons to harness the energy each prisoner is capable of in their lifespan to generate much like the “horsepower” that works inside of an engine, but imagine it is a social engine that drains this life out of the living to sustain an incredulous and wasteful means of which to exist by affording the most splendid objects possible in order to promote oneself as the superior to all others as a champion or king might relish… each person searching for their own kingdom…’
out of Context;
‘new motivation to try and make things different for the better that lies beyond temporary catharsis of a festival or carnival or circus… we need to go forth and start new towns where the states of mind we share are not just redundant chitchat to be had between friends and foes of enemies alike, the snappy patter of wit and ironic that has boiled down to inane and brainless immersion into empty quotes and vapid anecdotes that describes a life meant to adapt to the picaresque inertia we have allowed ourselves to forget so that we may return from the shambles once we get there, but what of those lost souls who will never grow up to be the people their kind have anyways wanted them to be?… we are all developing apart and as a whole…’