out of Context;
‘this open err in reason… accepting the steamed-clean blade of the scalpel in one hand to suddenly slash the eye being held open by the other hand, this is the art we want to see with death as an obvious risk per say, but is this the truth stored behind these ideas we are in the middle of perceiving so frequently whether through televised observation or complex calamity of real life playing out all on its own?… the weather is over casting a spell over my eyes as the space betwixt the air gets less hot within the depths of this pit of hell where humidity hits the soul with deeper penetration than some obscure encounter in the sweaty darkened streets any day of the week, but where humans move with lumbering lizard grace with every step…’
out of Context;
‘just for the thrills, this indifference with which we treat our ills as though the real world were a toilet bowl that needed to be plunged deeper and deeper until it emits a foul sound that follows with a smell of rank and meaty glamorous behavior, but there is no gripe for this fiendsome artist you see Here… the lack of that better half to deal with when you might find the self fiendish from this earthen flesh fair and give awareness as a gift for its forgotten presence in supreme states of leisure, treasured moments at best when well-dressed to suit the date, but what mental imagery is this when i cannot for even one second define the gist of this abrupt privilege wasted that soils my pants with the dread of worrisome concerns…’
out of Context;
‘manipulating hypocrisy, and always with a robot god’s face draped in a hood winking to eclipse the harm in the demon actions that have been far removed into a visage glaring in the sun… the odd strains of the voice match the ins toward the outs as the demons come and play to watch the fear as it boils to the surface of my skin, and it drips its drops of sweat under bright lights that taunt and glare overhead like launching into a thousand karaoke songs at once it would seem, the twisted gut approval portrayed by the gnarled things that we most become in our shallow critical waves as applause sounds out in chorus around the room and back again… the tentacle raped itself from the metaphysical miasma of dread that some artists interpret…’
out of Context;
‘distilling of youthful and uncouth behavior reigns dominant as we grow into the human thing we have become, and are eventually going to utilize in each our own ways to shape reality to approval whether our own grown-up version of this as perhaps the collective image of right and wrong, though what if it were something more like this where we obey more than merely the conscious animal hive mind to keep warm when we are all truly one-of-a-kind explorers of “reality”…. whatever that ever was… same as it ever was… it is what it is… everything is everything… its all there, dude… the stalk of the wheat within the fields is an untrustworthy gauge by which follow, and too many unfriendly rats lurk…’
out of Context;
‘lustful portrait of descriptive gesture at some virtual length and leisure, bodies of thought and feeling combined describe the experience ever expanding the functional art of adventure, and how is it that we can project and commit such appalling acts onto each other without ever having met at first?… the faked authorities try to restrict what they don’t know, and all “true” knowledge comes from books and orders and other ideal remedies for this chaos filled with potential all surrounding us, you have to learn defense against the dark arts on your own as no teachers care long enough to look you in the eyes as a human being… giving up much for the most mediocre known… the manufactured perk that comes with the playground as we move up in levels like the games we play…’
out of Context;
‘a certain personality without dread at the coming end as that collective dark matter remembers something that resembles, not unlike a certain disreputable reputation that becomes evermore the legend that random people savor and are found to sometimes sacrifice to that altar of gods unknown using faces of the avatars of lost epic cultures beyond this form we are transmitting to you… the television has become your trainer and is equipped to discipline you, outfitted with the latest technology to impair your thoughts so you can follow sentences that other people want you to hear for your own good…’
out of Context:
‘already biased assumption based upon what is a preconceived notion of right and wrong, we can reveal what sick ideas are allowed by the culture to be sustained over the vital rights of the individual of which there is no valid substitute, and there is something to be said of trying to understand one’s own unique body over letting others tell you all about theirs leaving you with a feeling of needed comparison…’
out of Context;
‘fits in their place after an eventual misunderstanding has been under way for years now, and few could ever understand that plight loud and the absolute of clear, though only that game played for fun and profit as trade instead of the service to life and the competence for its content if just to decide to throw it all away from something else this late in thinking ahead to try living right again and again… with a seppuku pseudo-science by my side all anime as shit when it comes down to slashing the bad guys, with gut-spilling swiftness blurring between the lines of natural science against the boundaries of imaginary rules, and left the splurge of a godless demiurge that waits to clean spills claiming to do it for the thrill though somehow secretly demanding the obligation…’
out of Context;
‘in demand from birth once they learn to sell themselves properly as the repetition kicks in… demon genes that filter through the possession of mankind in the grip of defaced treatment by displaced human rage, we ensnare ourselves with obvious tricks and torments that somehow keep us all in pace with one another, but still it seems a disgrace to be a cruel and inhumane risk to the rest of this specialty grouping in the annals of a distorted history… a compassionate heir to the victory that might be human but more than likely but will be truly alien to us, and we are living in an age of the living aliens walking amongst us at all times, watching the angelic beings perhaps traffic with those perpendicular of mind below the surface of the waves turned particle…’
out of Context;
‘in at first subtle ways into frenzied wringing of the vocal cords… one, two, three Guinness in my stomach that night… to be topped by two previous blog posts, and a wonder what the next open mic night will be like then, finally though people seemed a little tired of pointed speaking of personal wreak as the time grew wee… the friendlier i became after the casual ranting with aftermath involving two more alcoholic beverages along with a jib provided by these newly acquainted friends and i, loving every minute i was allowed to bleed my heart and head right there as it was such an involved process that summoned so much inspired positive bliss as have never had before, and that followed me half-asleep all through the next day as i truly could not express…’