out of Context;
‘in the distracting qualities of assessing the situation… the struggle to survive the hustling which keeps this behemoth alive and killing its residents Here, resisting the act of omnipresence endorsed by a society that would prefer to shuttle those who cannot be controlled into their manufactured prisons to harness the energy each prisoner is capable of in their lifespan to generate much like the “horsepower” that works inside of an engine, but imagine it is a social engine that drains this life out of the living to sustain an incredulous and wasteful means of which to exist by affording the most splendid objects possible in order to promote oneself as the superior to all others as a champion or king might relish… each person searching for their own kingdom…’
out of Context;
‘the functional adult is supposed to be able to care for others in the same capacity as caring for the Self implies while living in an existence of perpetual motion within organic machinery as the internal combustion clock reaches out to the edge of empty from this intellectual place Here, transmitting signals into and out from the void as prismatic vacuum recording all as it has occurred in time and space as two layers out of the many densities of reality present as the whole loops in on itself much like the example of the ever-swallowing Ouroboros seen from two dimensions, but reality plays tricks with us as we explore the vast richness from which we are the solid beings derived into this holographic destiny…’
out of Context;
‘the culture we appear within is a casual standard by which we mark and measure our limitations and ability to move freely, contrasting the modernity of Now against previous ideas of what the future was to hold for its people when the right sacrifices were made, but we get trapped in sovereign themes of debt by following their rules of civility and not our own as time wanes between the violent mood swings of governmental and ethical classifications that batter us from one biased side to the next to reinforce the idea of futility embedded into the modern Mankind’s mindset by the now-televised subliminal control with demographic lines as the new statistical boundaries to measure general productivity and subservience to the degree that authority requires to keep us under watch like the human cattle we have become…’
out of Context;
‘the works of others perhaps seeming more alien to our own differences and tastes, but allowing access to the grand Akashic records of thought and feeling and mood and texture that are ever out there awaiting someone to achieve understanding as bliss and blessing among the blind and the comfortable, the ministrations of the elite class are siphoning more and more from what little authority we hold as the WholE sits slack-jaw and waiting for an oblivion to free us from our holding cell as death is a final fatal Mystery to behold…’
out of Context;
‘this tidal debris left remaining Here and much more of that corpse-like feeling and pale lodged in a random state lost in thought angry somewhere, lurching out of the nowhere from beyond the coffin lid exploded into wide-mouthed strike as the leech drives towards a pulse inside the throat as the hungry monster or ghost might attack in a fake world where we do not try to actively understand each other without some incentive to the expenditure of energy, and the system takes the place of that desiccated form leaching the love and faith away into a processing to transform the impulses into filth and lust and depravity openly corrosive to once precious ideas of natural wisdom… a telepathic social neurotic toxin fed to us throughout our lives Now…’
out of Context;
‘inside our heads we are thinking that it can only be possible to find true love with either one’s self or by default in mutual blindness with another groping along the walls to find emotions unheard of before Now never acknowledging compassion or courtesy behind the eyes… the toxic smell of belief gone horribly wrong even though we might seem quite used to the wafting haze in a dreamy revelry sort of work and activity, the digital selves yelling out ‘yee-haw!’ as the genetic sequence spins them out of time in a spent uranium doctor Strangelove kind of ride into the next bold age to sunder and scorch the inescapable lie those traits of fate in some holographic fractal symbol for life to which we may ascribe as features of the ‘demi-urge’…’
out of Context;
‘to create the eggs of fate that juggle and shake with Faberge flourish in order to seem worth much more than the human cringe that makes this drama reach out in exciting inclusion of endings, the golden rush is on to find more of the most suitable ways of sorting out what to profit from in light of askew perceptions as turning into aliens when the gravity pulls their consciousness off this plane even there on the wings are also too many couched in the rain waiting for a chance to get into what was once mine too just to merely give away, and hoping to find those human centers…’
out of Context;
‘we have overwhelmed ourselves and the spaces which we inhabit as though to take it for granted is only natural to do, but it is not nature that does this as Mankind hordes and violates the instincts of the Other to gain only commodity aspiring to heights of wealth in place of either information or insight… and it seems no one “gets” it because much like a disease, no one wants to get it but the handful willing to experience something different in the terminal illness we might reason that is this life, and as we refuse to learn what we do not understand…’
out of Context;
‘shapes moving and shifting into other pronounced objects of abjection as the will wanders closer to an edge perceived on the fringes of polite consuming urges as though quantified and qualified by the lack of respect we claim not to adhere to, but a lusty whim exists that reaches for the exit of every creature in order to have fabricated the next movement as something more ever evolving in form… a collection of traits and tainted repercussions as the face distorts and chortles with that demon laughter from the abyss or well of souls that awaits our return one day too soon, and some of us we pray that we do not become as prey…’
out of Context;
‘trying to seek out a reason or an immunity to the caustic toxic fear embedded in the human psyche, and yet few of us have learned to swim in these troubled waters of the world pool with each of us tallying the notches scarred in our bodies as painful lesions locked in the memory of what we try to achieve as robust fact beyond mere fiction as delivered by the heat and sensitivity to friction both mental and physical… we quake in our skins for relief of some dagger thrust deep in the conscious mind pulled from the stoned flesh that a holographic firm fixation on form projects among these structures of concrete and glass that have forsaken us as but temporarily tolerated beasts in the whole of heartless refresh…’