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…’
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…’
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…’
out of Context;
‘the hammering of gods inside our heads won’t relent on the progress that sketches itself out as it surges forward to hit all the relevant points in forging the correction necessary to put others in their place… the fascist ones we are working against are reflecting the same energy that lifts and can make of the unsound whatever creatures we claim ourselves to be as a stalking and lethal movement takes over the minds of the serious and static who hold to killing, that urge to push the rest of this flaming wreck off the edge of an almost real cliffside drifting lost…’
out of Context;
‘there are always going to be many battles and confrontations that appreciate a focused attention for the gaining involvement to evolve as social reconstruction urgency in a system of varying agencies in place to solve the woes we face each day, but that is what we are told all along in the trailing lines that lay the tracks to eventually facing the pain as the train of thought hits us square in the ways that make us think… the stink of what we really are bleeds through the thinnest of membranes to this world as a deep gratitude is more difficult to maintain than a sour attitude…’
out of Context;
‘i stand up to rant my heart out with words cultivated from the mental dirt we all dig into facing an audience without fear, it is a temporary catharsis against the backdropping sounds and dim atmosphere of the places we fit as the design or location may hint with its’ own symbols and grounds as foundation for the drama unfolding, but this is how we create art that seems as to pull right off the pages before these very eyes that decide to see it all scattered in the pattern-seeking brain informing…’
out of Context;
‘before entering the human being phase of the training, and not all can hear the bells ringing as though school were utterly always in session to reach the next lesson on the syllabus planned as taught in holy words and jerks that spasm against the natural laws that Mankind so detrimentally needs to learn…’
out of Context;
‘where the only access refrigerator is always locked closed with the cabinets and cupboards nailed shut as the room begins filling with gas from the stove left on high, but no one is getting anywhere in making a wistful final countdown admonishing a god any god that might listen to random pleas sent skyward as the reversal of fortunes makes the heavens fall to earth in impending doom raining blood upon the scourge of humanity killing itself… i am passed out yet again, my friends…’
out of Context;
‘subtly haunting the bodies committing themselves to this nonsense as ever in motion… striving to hide the hive mind behind occulted rituals and subtle stinging words used to manipulate the population into subconscious fear games that push us all to compete in the great hunt as predator or prey, and as some of the more deluded prepare themselves to die in the struggle alone as wild beasts…’
out of Context;
‘reckless after money and power in the face of oppression just to be looking right because no one wants to be caught dead and wrong in the same breath while breathing asleep from the heavy things that drop onto our heads everyday like masochist balloons weighing down the end before it ends like a curtain falling over our outlook on a reality that doesn’t believe in opportunity or happiness without suffering… A trick of the dicks who think they run this place to get anywhere you need to be tamed by shit as beginnings come so quickly before the sweet individuation truly occurs to the newly human guinea pig in training on this animal farm experiment where you are the dead to remain exactly where you are, make no move…’