dark thoughts Archives - Page 42 of 72 - All The Wrong Topics dot com

Chemical Innocence

out of Context;
‘base material transmuted into goals into which this conscious world takes its shapes and cues to create… the majority of us are confused by the variable complexities that seem to betray whatever humanity appears to be at first glance whether conscious animal or instinctual alien drawn into worlds within worlds of drama and consequence, the grand scheme as epic as it seems is really quite simple when one considers that humanity is the source of all these dreams becoming reality…’




Weak Ends

out of Context;
‘a caustic vibration as stating clearly that it does not want us as friends or enemies though certainly that is what we will become when the polite mask comes loose revealing the beast beneath, as it is armored against the petty as it might seem to be that there a coward’s heart beating is deep inside like an inner child screaming mad at being held captive in this soul as it grows and calcifies claustrophobic until decay, and this freedom breaks the mold a shell wide open to let move the inner universe…’




Comments & Considerations.

out of Context;
‘we are not embittered alone by the swing of a diseased monkey wrench tossed into gears and cogs that have since damaged and sprung loose of their roles within the system further sending spiral plagues of dysfunction into this ever-corrupted modernity as decadent display… the wealth that builds a cold concrete forest of smooth sheer cliffside as rungless ladder to be climbed from the inside like a roach or a spider getting higher inside the web of intrigue…’




Punching at ghosts.

out of Context;
‘all matters before leaving this stasis… as we scratch and claw our way clinging to the past with no lens of remorse for what has had to be done in order to get where we are standing now cursed and morally responsible for the current state of reality, digging in those sharp spurs of cowboy wild righteous ignorance that occurred to make sense out of the wildernesses left set on slow decay as a world yearning for some ironed-out contract of absolutes in as fetishistic a practice for the businessman culture burning the midnight oil at both ends…’




the 33rd Degree

out of Context;
‘the corrupt adapting a master plan for mastery over the entire fucked populace of tired and worn-down threats unevenly able to stab in the dark when it seems the merest pinprick of light shines through to blind our eyes from apparent truths yet revealed as reviled spew to chundering down one’s chin, and clogging the oily flesh as sweat and grease build up to toxic levels while reality keeps spilling out germs and verses to either infect or entrain the docile domesticate human massive that begs to be servile to the fleas… these too appear as the dysfunctional nitwit to whose vigorous energies are trapped in other obnoxious pursuits forlorn lamenting to pervfection…’




Mozeltov Cocktail

out of Context;
‘seen through mismanaged pausing and waiting while the queue grows longer, and much like the lengthy snaking thing it is the skin of people shed one individuated cell after another as the lifetime has popped its own bubble for each growing being born Here of all places… the center of this disease which we have become very comfortable with each other continuing to blame all tomorrow’s parties for the idealized symptoms of today as it lurches…’




Meta-tainted

out of Context;
‘leaving ourselves open to the waves of the future whether hybrid of new and old or some other synthesis altogether as it slowly changes this presence like a slightly out-of-tune rumor circulating, and the effect suddenly occurs where we are standing in the reality that reflects the humors of its residents as the energy surges passed narrowing the perceptions by what views they see… some are seeing tumors on the skin…’




Strangers Have the Best Fiction

out of Context;
‘fetishistic idea of a lifestyle where one’s sleepy solid comfort is the standard bearer to which all others become shit, we the inferior are littered everywhere that no one wants to try looking because the grime clinging to our bodies is a social crime in these parts of the civility that hates us for who we are trying to be… nightmare of our life to think we are going no where or to a place that doesn’t want us as used and thrown down a waded piece of living trash outliving the abuse, with or without the crutches makes no real difference only in the eyes of a judgmental authority of whose dead soul only manifests in hateful intent to purge the system of its dreck…’




Badgering the Witless

out of Context;
‘the vast depths… is it safe?… not really… it never was even if you believe in all those myths because that machine is just as obsolete any more as the rust of the previous generations collapse and bury themselves like heads in the sand, and cringing cowardly as if appearing to yield, as though to allow the birth of a new strain of old worlds on mutant earth inhabited by actual hybrid creatures of worth beyond functional weight that requires to be served and protected like the swine whose self-assured fate rests upon the plate…’




enter the Funundrum…

out of Context;
‘a sphincter holding back the shitty for the stale and uncomplicated sheltering us all through youth, and a dark tide rising with the breaking conformity as leashing agent to keep the fear in check mated with the ritual wage kept by enslaved hands whose own energy moves the larger cyst’emic infection intact like a creeping death who plans to rule the earth someday… blistering the senses cultivated over too many those of the previous lifetimes to count accurately any more as the vibrations can get denser and denser…’