out of Context;
‘great conflict attempting to find resolution in random pieces assuming a relevance puzzling the parts already found in play, but fear fits its’ roles very much so using the power displayed to sway people in such tight circles that the revolutions run into each other sometimes crashing and clashing philosophies together as to make not only new viewpoints manifest but also creating a cacophonous dialogue which seeks out any conclusion that can be satisfactory for all parties even those not thrown for fun or devoted to mindless self-indulgent entertainment where displacement is purely cold and professional… the exchanging of money moaning subtly under the breath as befits these puerile characters we have today become…’
out of Context;
‘conventions we attain through this limited sight seen from a thousand senses when it comes to the scale of this cosmic force, but what is this corollary drawn from the source of miracles and manacles all used to captivate and silently begin eliminating those so-called ‘undesirables’ that grow up inside of a society that cares not for them but a choking constraint like that is only the fabrication of propagandist keening and a screaming for an infidel loyal to an opposing cause with which to vilify and exile as though it were truly a natural act exercised to perform a just management of dead spirits and the groups of people who worship these memories through pictures obscene abstracted from the once wholesome idealisms of print…’
out of Context;
‘feeling as if this programming were certain and we can put absolute trust in any concept that hasn’t yet allowed itself to evolve because of the cacophony all those castrating voices carry within this network of symbols connecting the archetypes of a consciousness embedded Here if as it appears to be is not already too good to be true, but we never have an adequate gauge of this in a system trying its’ damnedest to get our reasoning chained to the popular opinions of an auto-piloted day and age while we channel the changing programs through our soul stuff that leaks out fluctuating inside as much outside of the complex head we’re all within as consciousness subsumes who it is we think could be ourselves…’
out of Context;
‘in this fluid vastness housing us all in holding our shaking existence protected by the sheltering graces of who raised us in generations before we arrived when there were no words only the sentiments for an official turn of events to become the ways which we are today called reality by this surge of consensus opinion converged together to create, there are going to be changes that strike off-guard the ones too stubborn to budge as gigantic ego remains like unfathomable buoys swaying briefly many clicks too offshore to be aware of by everyone as a difficult item of these shifting pieces moved between the reckless martyrs who kill and try twisting every word, but these knots are much more than any Gordian riddles…’
out of Context;
‘our idea of politeness mixed-up with genteel suppression opposing questions, we talk and share the stories that thrust a weight into our living belief as it crosses the tiniest threshold which our soul enters free of this forming that was born into this casual surface decided by those great general established quotas whose status quo requires us to uphold the proof that this system works while mystery drops out of this mapping as we create it absorbing this virtual reality as it stings and it hangs in the err sometimes provoking our reactions as it wishes autonomously like a body, but when it comes to rulership there is no measurement for this vessel expressly exceptional toting silver lines as thread at time like a cosmic harp imagining our lives inside of this puzzle that looks like us…’
out of Context;
‘this awkward sense of homing in that we all seem to have derived from a certainty of our familiar surroundings much like the memories we indulge in for nostalgia’s sake taken as a temporary time warp into the frequencies of the past overlaid upon our own current time stream lined with personal extremes soon floating in dream as in utero… sometimes we are chased out of this sleeping incubating status by the nightmare that wields us like a weapon against the phases of cyclical turning that steadily makes us out to be as criminals embedded in the system to be burned out by inane acts attributed to our own stupidity unable to adapt to the facts as they are replaced by fictions that digest a humanity into singularities of purpose and position…’
out of Context;
‘Do you Here me?’ the rabbit said. The fascists had surrounded them all with their weapons of war as an art of domination drawn and aching to fight, but the delight of the moment was in that secret space where Alixe and the rabbit sat discussing the currency of this scenario playing out before them both in a simple uncomplicated way. ‘Where are we and why these agents of the general law now, sir rabbit?’…
out of Context;
‘those corrupt pantheons of a past terror morphing into realms beyond the unaware teased as a nation of followers forced to do what we are to tell them what absolutes as a particular person sees it trying to change that lazy loophole lemniscating a mobius stripper’s dance macabre shaking that asshole finger of accusation committing us to serve the hive mind, and betray ourselves seeking solace of a kind while politeness quakes under the auspices of privilege and wealth distributed to only a handful of picaresque goads acting as substitute demigod for a particular stance or cause believed in as a fact…’
out of Context;
‘taking on a weight from the others shouldered for the sake to lift another to a higher status quoted as being the top of the heap to reap what one has sewn into the fabric of reality whose gimmicks are as quick and extreme in the hindsight as the breezy daydreams of the foresight as a gift to see the symbols utilized by a future that appears to reinforce that hazy past behind us while the sleepers ever keep sleeping in moments swept together in the ethers Here, and our bodies house these substances that shift the sands of time even if we never had an hourglass figure or the diagram as vessel with which to work through variable patiences that sometimes condemn our conscious focus to atrophy in this competition for developed continuity…’
out of Context;
‘we play our songs looking for the piper and dancers to be there even when it is just you and me left to our own devices a queer singalong where everyone applies the same lyrical fancies that seems nasty to an ignorant fool whose taste in everything is limited by his privilege as demon seed sprouting wings and flying to seek rabid form of a fire-breathing devil with which to obtain this vampiric fortitude in order to prey upon victims in need of a simple savior, rock stars with flavor…’