i for Ipseity... Archives - Page 2 of 8 - All The Wrong Topics dot com

…an Impolite poetry…

out of Context -‘…no dire obstacle in forward motions, asserting one’s own path has to be at most a difficult cycle to know of all things as complete finding any power from within one’s self to move in the desired direction, but tending to lose momentum in doubt running counterpoint to beatific confidence gone the route of domestication in order to survive the cruelty mechanism absorbing the spawn of days past to create more viable biomass with which to continue a looping circadian rhythm that taps into nature’s resources… though what truly are the resources of consciousness that we might be more creative instead of critical to such a nullifying degree these voids look out through our eyes to see and further inform their series of processes to control…’




In scions of sectioned succulence

‘no regard for the lives tossed aside because once we attain the top of a

heap of reaping what we have sown it is done, and no one will be able to

disparage the path taken to get to that point in the road especially as

we cycle through so many given variables orders to repeat the experiment

to verify the absolute proof to which we can comfortably label in words

absolutely as the truth… a wrench to stop the works of all the monkeys

collected at thousands of typewriters to achieve what only time and luck

allow us to achieve in the forms of a nuclear bomb or freed electricity

to decimate the consumers consummating their wedded bliss to technocrat

leisure class conservation of motion and energy, guerrilla warfare of the

most connected and captivated’…out of Context.




there are no organs without the “i”…

out of Context;
‘dying scream of doubt to be betrayed by the doctors and their cold stinging err, or the warriors who come out to play and decide they want to kill a man and rob him in the streets crazy from the trip to hell and back attacking another person whether needed or not creates knots in the system cannot untie even as unified and united their might seems to be some good guys some bad guys though the test of casualties becomes the surprising rise in the tidal wave goodbye to eclectic electric gaps far scarier charismas of delicious gravity ahead severing the knots with swirling blades like cyclones whirling a winding wind blown beyond those winsome memory lanes a bit farther than a disciplined Mankind can travel even though from Here you can get very far indeed..’




I am not made of sense…

out of Context;
‘gathered opinion gone awry, but why wait for a why when sometimes the want is enough to start a reaction chaining some same such minds together at the concept alone as individual features become tangential angelic elements blessing lower forms of life living now with generations of alien consciousness locking up our systems with instinctual data casually foregoing that brains grey matter batters against the whipping winds of conformity domesticating as society dictates a person should be, though the trigger finger always rings true with shots fired shat-wise through the chaotic crowd in a haze of uncertainly valued self-sustaining attitude depicting a selfless abandon…’




the Imp lied…

out of Context;
‘collected one-by-one to serve hive a little more longer than expected as a chosen hell has many levels of confrontation one is required to reach in order to survive whatever chapters remain next tonight as the logic of business and efficient use of time demand the blood sweat and tears as it guts you up and down with your own demons set…’




abject: Imbesylum

out of Context;
‘the grotesque that become habits in our habitat to defend our needs to read further into those situations that are stimulating and yet distort the words and gestures that spurn us on toward that virtual viscera that seems trivial for the most part to most people of whom couldn’t care less as esteem a trait of human proclivities that soon drifts further from the humanity which founded it to be castrating all considerate selves too polite to stray… taking those safety and sheltering protocols we were given for granted as we do lose touch when the compassionate has become tired of our selfish strands of personal obscurity…’




Ignormal conformal

out of Context;
‘type of comprehension enough to analyze this segment of ourselves with an off-kilter perception of an abject civility as objectivity has said with a thrilling chill of electricity down the spines as we are infused in signals of enthusiasm producing objects that fill the gap, but mindful of the crap that builds up into a wasteful trap that human domestication we all ascribe to when very few have the assertion to choose different paths out of a selfish sheltering safety instinct as defensive and belligerent at the same time considering righteous one’s own worth amongst the surly yet lacking courageousness…’




traumatic, the next Insemination…

out of Context;
‘we are the elemental butt of jokes made to our dissatisfaction by stabbing us through the heart as the abdomen strike used to fertilize the female bed bug through the evolved exceptions as a filtration system within that microcosmic turn of change preventing either bacteria fatal wounding and yet inseminating the body cavity in one traumatic stroke to perpetuate a species that has evolved with humans as one of many parasitic dwellers within and without us…’




i AM a god, I am a faceless warrior…

out of Context;
‘the resonating repercussions struck playing us against one another so convinced of our own righteous stakes to be claimed by these casually caustic voices who restrain us inside of our own heads through thinking in these uniquely individual states united by genetic dispositions and environmental equivalents of the sense of duty and honor that plague our offended egos, but subversive directions permeate the vastly stuffed reality into a pregnant and oversaturated compression that raises the levels of tension like the moon with the tides in repetition fully and unavoidably present in the suspension of disbelief Here too unorganized…’




Obscure Not Dead

out of Context;
‘the damage is caused then cleaned up like nothing had ever happened in the first place with deceiving seeds seated at the start of a dysfunction made real in consequence to deal with for many of these as generations to come bleeding through like light shown through a prism… the separate strands of colors our selves drip down to pool at our feet like a worshipful tribe to imbibe for our approval the gist and the jism of the situation presented before us, many of us caught up in following our bliss that we do not ever seem to see the other side as terror ablyss to contradict our needs and desires from the manifest as a simple investing in ourselves, but curious if we hear our hearts why fear our fearts?…’