out of Context;
‘it appears that people wrote these laws and rules most of whom were men that could not do much more to advance divine intervention than to acknowledge that workers need more time relaxing to endure the monochrome colors limited in relation to the actual world we live in… and the work week carries on. no matter where you are or what it is you do, there are certain qualities about working that separates mind and body by allowing the body’s motor consciousness a control with which allows some to think about many things at once or with more focus as perception concentrates itself into a narrow beam to activate the energy for multitasking for example requiring a slightly higher perception of a person’s immediate surroundings, and diversion then becomes the bane of the activity…’
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 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;
‘the meat moves and writhes churning and viral passing along traits maybe better left in other times and places, intimation of random deception of the culture proliferating throughout even those tiniest of details as the demons and weasels of humanity crawl to utilize sanity into warping the minds gratuitously of all spokespeople involved in this consistent spin of reflected deflection that drains, but is the state of this artistic means motion to an end worth enough to have set out to get to the other side as the static clinging wrap to capture our best traits is pulled wide…’
out of Context;
‘as multiple factors are required for the graduation of these distant collaborations, when one looks into the expanded vision experienced as nothing and then further beyond that it can be seen with a naked third eye the wonderland of imagination fleshed out and exposed before each mind’s eye to a massive change in the works of others… the fear of nothing, the fear of freedom, cannot be withheld long by a soul yearning to breathe free of these most hassling interactions of dramatic proportions between personalities and the people who wield them as weapons… those derivative holes that do nothing more than to suckle upon the goodness of the world like a parasite perceived to live like you or i for the most part, but take the blinders off or put the glasses on…’
out of Context;
‘the subtle rage builds up as does the tension within this cage that has been pushed as sage advice when the reality promotes more ire and frustration as the minutes keep ticking away as it cranks up the suspense that people are sensitive to when the social menace lays its’ hands on you too, and it will then move as you sight the beast for yourself wondering where it ever came from within this natural modern world under the false impression that innocence is some benign ideal expressed by those with lost yet lingering youth… dowsing for a living faith…’
out of Context:
‘the dead beats of the apocalypse heart spread enlightened fire to the resisting heads unwilling to try understanding this mess made before they ever got Here to confess empty what it is they sold as souls for the material left in the wake, this a seething sea of debris and decay as the pieces rust and writhe as machine gone astray as much in the dark as the light of a new age where nothing rules over us as our lives are each so very precious both to us and the people we affect by our thoughts and actions coming alive…’
out of Context;
‘unknown to the witness… the cattle rattle death and breathe their last for the impudent sacrifice to avarice and risk to alter fate with their lives in as tormented a wait for the chopping block as the weight of a grisly ritual takes place, but how far is it that we are removed from this slaughter as caustic disco in which we have caught ourselves in a danse macabre much too late after throwing up our hands awaiting for some thrill ride to take place, the thrill of a moving from one reality into another on a path which none may ever follow into the abyss as recycling of souls…’
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…’