out of Context;
‘his feral pack type and tap away like a grand organic motor grinding away to hit the one-armed bandit square in the jackpot, but we can only achieve that through realizing the symbols don’t manipulate us any better than we are capable of better managing them instead whether they be words or syllables in this dementia… dimensional travel always in flux, and perhaps a long fabled dimensional quality at which is constantly being reached for and striven after by the experimenters and shamanic sorts who perceive greater than the mere happenstance charisma of the living world, one sign apparent to me as the Lord is merely a supervisory role with strong evolutionary characteristics of vestigial realities as shit it clings to the digestive wall in our imaginations… a collective story somehow in ways taken for granted…’
out of Context;
‘there are many Here among us who think that life is but a joke, and the ideas are always changing places as the trivial creatures reorient themselves to understand better the flawed system that has made itself capable of eliminating certain problems while retaining the ones that would make the most painful difference if solved today, there are bogeymen everywhere in the nowadays where you cannot even see the face or reveal the truth without a dark cloud hovering overhead low and wet from the rain… and it is a rain supreme, by god, when the acid hits your face like a packaged deal filled with chemicals that should not be engorged on this watery medium with its viral droplets reign falling faithless to still the wounded crying in their graves…’
out of Context;
‘all modes of functional reality are the people defined as raw bytes of data by those lacking a humanity to call their own… a stupid mistake that will erase the decades of cover-ups and manipulation to promote the contrary as the opportunists flock to be flogged and tortured by their own ignorance, when one looks into the reflective face of the other it is not always guaranteed pleasantness will stare back, and in fact the complete opposite almost always holds true as the witness takes a moment to define themselves by features alone… all of them come together at this one point in time…’
out of Context;
‘the beast we are hides its’ grudges deep within a wilderness so primordial before the soul became a spiritual thing… the animal from within is now the fiction where once the civilized attempt was nothing more than a fancy dress, a Victorian myth that merely glossed over the surface while the rest of the creatures followed in line for the very same gimmick, and all this before such things as civic duty and moral foundations to build a structure into faith that might resonate with the more sensible among us as we are all tugged into that vacuum of hell…’
out of Context;
‘vibrations through the eye of experience, a narrow eye of the needle through which the thread of individual experience gets woven into the tapestry of what seems like only empty space, but there is no one frequency that does not rely upon all other natural frequencies to sustain each other to create a universal certainty… an order so-to-speak amid the islands of chaos is created when vital connections are made, and thusly resonate through one’s life continuum as the individual like the ringing vibration we are solely tuned into as beings, so the phrase ‘spaced out’ is a very apt expression…’
out of Context;
‘the burden of the beast with mind alike in such a way as no casual joy can be found in the simple words strung together loosely as though interjected by the amateur who is in this merely for the money, and knows a way to find a profit or a prophet when they seize one, this oily discharge the wrath of god whose bones were used to make my bread fluffy and rise with only the effort required of the artistic shaman at work in the modern sense of decay… not a baker’s dozen for anyone, to mean there is an end is to end by all means the expression made-up to look pretty to anyone who might fall for the trap this crap made from symbols that i have whittled away…’
out of Context;
‘retract from these strange and excitedly shallow people, and the ideas that they try to spread like some kind of low intensity germ that slowly begins to bring others with wealth around to their purview of rationalization… the Little Lord pandemic hit in the late 1880’s, and the denizens of this time period were so in love with the carrot waving idea that they too could be a prince in a pauper’s clothes that literate madness the equivalent of Potter-mania today became a show-stopper as the clothes made the young man, the idealized form of boy-king turned into a fashion statement back then… the prince and the pauper, show stopper, babbler-dabbler self-confessed criminal…’
out of Context;
‘the religiosity of some people outweigh the possible compassion for an honest greater good because the former lines pockets with this Taker wealth hard-won on the blood of all native peoples, from Roman to Catholic there was never any real love for the human creature except in the rare instances of a few genuine popes and ministers outnumbered by the corruption ever-present in a cruel world, and yet these other atrocious individuals call into play the polite veneer of the politician or diplomat trying to coax converts on a regular basis over to their side of an argument too far gone to be anything other than a subjective reality… jesus as an eso-terrorist…’
out of Context;
‘nobody ever feels as though they are on the same page as the rest of this humanity, but the paranoid and tinted blinders do not have to last even this brief lifetime witnessed as a forever perhaps if only from our situationist roots as beings stuck in gilded scenes that try in vain to repress the acceptance of one’s roles within the grand theater of the absurd abstracted to burn the flagging will of individual in light of the pack mentality… to whom should i give my excess baggage to?… the stink of the ribald humors drifting under the nose of the indifferent sloven beast who cares not for the destiny of compassion among friends, the civilized demeanor among enemies who hear the voices of hatred…’
out of Context;
‘deriving pleasures from the decrepit and lonely even if only inside of their bedrooms of ivory suburban towers about to collapse from the changing world striking lightning upon their sacred structure wet in the appetite once the digestion has it in its swallow grip a shallow grave into which those indifferent beings are flipped… as the sacred begin gathering for an evening of the newborn annual rituals to again pivot upon formal format of the social breakdown as made into oblivious yearly calendar sequence to party the night away, where people degrade themselves as puppets to the fascist state from which history has compiled its survivors to be lead around by their psychopaths and a sociopathic corruption of the human trust sequence as evolved through the brink of distinct extinction of various other traits…’