out of Context;
‘to whims of those barbarian hordes who would rather stick their dick in your cheek instead of hearing what you have to say… rape and plunder attempting to maneuver into positions of power where no one should be seated for long enough to become the villain of their own story as glory and prosperity would naturally follow the traces of a better person, whereas the villain has nothing left that isn’t of a material property fought hard to be possessed in an act as status quo standard to define the indifference with value that cannot be valued except by the most vile whose whimsy has edges too sharp not to draw the precious blood dripping as perilous killing joke…’
out of Context;
‘we are subjected to the whimsical in the most unflattering of ways as the essence of who we are seems to get lost in what we do or think in the case of trying to truly discover our own realities for what they are as we fight through distortions that affect how we are to interact with the rest of the universe, but this identity we consider to be the only one there is as false and confused with the ideals trained into the many as growing child becomes another living drone vibrating on a frequency that keeps the rest of us subjugated to a system…’
out of Context;
‘try filling in the spaces to resonate and relate to this hanging onto concepts that seem to make sense in my head though not always when applied thinking in limitations with a practical mindset trying to affix and focus upon the end result of this behavior… coming to the call and answering with blank vocal monotone to show just how disinterested i am to be saying this directly into your ear while out the other end you are there listening in on the conversation converting in electricity the ranges of human emotion telling me, no, dragging me to reap these just rewards…’
out of Context;
‘our ulterior motives sometimes those internal mechanisms we are not aware of clockwork twitches moving the spastic frame into places it perhaps would not have dared otherwise without consciousness in this efficient functional reality grinding along, ticking out measured moments on as man-made a face as no one adores watching the flickering hands displace slow hours into waste that chills the bones because the time slips away in the shortest increments that no one stops to appreciate except occasionally me and those handful of others lurking behind the sealed off screen door to the digital floor, and ‘ding!’ Here we are in the last place you’d expect from the shallow ways of Mankind whose kindness seems either harsh or cruel to inhibit a casual growth of rebellious youth from cropping up again and again…’
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;
‘only fooling themselves into thinking these things certain, and yet these cracks are now showing themselves as contradictions of theory put into practice as more methods added to the madness swirling confusion into a deeper embedded tragic sum of parts but gracelessly shuffling with a tag of sadness at our heels… screaming bloody murder silently as the matter dulls the sounds of that haunted taunting from within mingling with a few ghosts of your own friends as aspects to your dream that never end even if you do, there are more than horrible things that the imagination can summon to frighten a specter out of you so that you run babbling trying to convince everyone of the end about to come as a dirge waiting to be sung in low mournful tones for regret of not knowing…’
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…’