out of Context;
‘this oppressive idea of oblivion used in eliminating oblivion from thinking as the heart gets lost in its’ own twitching spells disposed to making one think endlessly of those fucked up instances where if only a bestial side of ourselves could awaken and eliminate the creeping distortions inherent in trying to live a life free of those killing obligations from which others seem to suffer, what loses me is how much i want to suffer as the martyr set upon as a person deserving of this instrument of torture for their people like sacrificial scapegoat sent into oblivion just as easily with a knife or noose yet that is how cruel we have to be in order to kind of get anything what we want done or the corpse gets left unidentifiable to authorities…’
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 symbols and signals that garner respect for those that know how to play these vindictive little games that mute more than one or two voices to exorcise the random ghosts of rebellion out of the system… i cannot stand this rage at an impotent stance neutralized by a credible opinion from out of ivory towers gilded in a shroud of oblivion as a humanity staggering out from underneath the shadow tries as many keys as possible to unlock this doorway as an exit, in some kind of path through all the collected works and versions of this station earth…’
out of Context;
‘floating like motes in the air as matters we have not yet as much care in our indifference to be aware enough to ensure our ability to survive all, but even all the warm contents of the soul cannot deliver one from the responsibility of being born Here in this formulaic state where reversal is commonplace for a seedier contingent of our race whose sources may not be of this earth for as a bit remotely wacky as it may seem as though they were spiritually reptilian of origin… they being those enforcing the powers that be in their heinous scheming scrabbling for opportunities to steal from others more deserving of their share of the world because we all contain value even though it seems as though that other more unscrupulous characters wield darker arts…’
out of Context;
‘again through the back door of the mind into that subtle entrance by your divine lifeline gathered Here for the moment while taking you away from your fears, or perhaps to guide you straight through harm into the abyss from which you first came shooting as shards of splintered sperm oblivious to any direction transferring the energy into a mechanical surging… either way we are allured by a sexual distinction locked in the act looking for and wishing for anything to permeate the shell unforgiven for cracking under this lustful pressure pushing the boundaries much closer together edging us to forward a loving poisonous passion throbbing with horror for those human ways we can be so cruel yet so kind at the worse of times it seems, fucking up the party with our conditions…’
out of Context;
‘whether you realize it or not humanity does not exist at the point of a sword demanding the victim to yield by force, but this cannot lead to a valuable outcome as those odd officials we have already seen on the latest news programs can attest to scandal in the midst of service to others as the more selfish and unavoidably sour in this culture choose to maniacally subvert positive attention to exalt the extreme negative as a secret authority masked from people they are chosen to convince they serve at all costs… casualties of the violent wages paid by all who were drafted to play in the last war to be revealed in this way as the figureheads have fallen after the fact of their utility has passed and so trust cannot be manufactured…’
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 greater structure meant to be in Here to maintain and struggle under the watchful eyes of mechanical angels and the street demons left alive after the meltdown becomes a rhyme we teach our own children in the line behind us as spawns of the next age of defeat and suffering implied… the collapsing reality of a bubbling crude politeness in the lieu of a fake political correctness that crushes our sanctity into place those natural and most fertile tessellations like smoking hate bombs utilizing most of our auxiliary energy bent to nefarious ends in themselves, and taking the whole mess with it into the wake of futuristic speculations that none of us seems directly privy to as information swarms and pulls at the subconscious states…’
out of Context;
‘humors that come with the territory… we create the isolation that digests us in the many millions of faceless people that abhor us, the human a porous substance through which many liquids and gases and issues assume an authority by means that lead to command of the human bodily functions, and made real through the prism in the soul whose light fluctuates with mood and enlightened attitudes all from growth to death projecting out onto the world what is interpreted from the depths of humane tissues… contradictions with every breath, a substantial imperative to play the game their way…’
out of Context;
‘more magical of quaint slight connections between artist-music-audience… i feel like we will meet again with the like of these two Kevins in the near phuture, even if it does require the power evoked by new Nny Ppy music roused from the deep, but for now i look forward to the Killing Joke concert in the close-by in the city farther away than Here… maybe fifty dollars will get me a chance to meet them on top of tickets and driving there, and i better have my custom flag ready to give…’