out of Context;
‘the muse rendered through a sick infatuation, but yet the muse reappears again in disguise of mirth and a-muse-ment… the raptures of laughter in a simple place… let the sick who want to eat, chew, and let the the masques of the mighty fall by the wayside as the giants loose themselves upon this collapsing cage built through fears… the energy to suffuse the panic and public opinion of the people with a dedicated circuit that loops over and over until the switch is turned off by a licensed technician, or the use of a shamanic position to quell the fury of by gods unleashed through the manic, spastic memes viral like disease to assume there is meaning or proof…’
out of Context;
‘for the greater purpose of understanding the work as well, finding it necessary to track the challenges as well as the ideas in order to gradually learn what to do what feels right… the last of the seven day struggle is basically a freedom-to-relish period in the artistic vision, perhaps relaxing with more magical rites in chaos or playing along to the stereo, but there is no limit to what experimental charge can be conceived… this leaves the system open to any definition…’
out of Context;
‘to give up too quickly is “retard”, or i’m sorry, to be retired… making us no better than any other moron among us, which we are anyway you slice it even if you defend yourself otherwise, and nearly everyone seems utterly blocked by this polarity of spirit… to move too quickly in a direction you wish uses velocity of state to make one numb enough to understand the new information, but polarizes those who have no idea of the range of experience within their vapid opinions based upon other opinion yet still, it seems as though no two ends of the same scaled and visualized spectrum would be able to be connected… however, it is this bizarre attraction between the opposites that literally reacts by pulling their frequencies together…’
out of Context;
‘a lack of respect on my part for alcohol’s shamanic and magical qualities, even if it was malt liquor from the convenience store, it was a fusion of negative imagery that lead to a false positive effect on me… in the midst of all this, my musical aspirations were both put on the alter of sacrifice, and alternately saved from the burning wreckage with promise of another day… however, in hindsight that is all there seems to be in the cards for me if i cannot learn from the missteps i make, a willingness to put myself where i don’t belong necessarily…’
out of Context;
‘my passion is restricting while also being expansive, thus taking my soul with it on a powerful trajectory somewhere, but how can we even begin to think we can fathom that depth to which there is no stone to drop except the self?… now i am Here, self-incriminating and trying to make the most of my dabbled arts, and dying to figure out whether or not this whole shindig is worth it… i have to face my fears, and some may shy away from my particular issues, giving no credence to my own self-respect… these are the self-possessed as much as i am…’
out of Context;
‘a dangling whip-like appendage, the Clitic, stands distinctive in this corrupted linguistic trick of the mind… the process of control seems like a theory of control, different for each unique character scripted in this act, and appearing as continuous variables uninterrupted by time… even as our vertical awareness stirs our soul, the opinion mentioned earlier is responsible for sending out batch quantities of life for specific end results, to control a discrete robotic assembly working to manifest its will… a theory on process theology could be described as not everything is god’s will, but god has a will in everything as all experience contributes to the process of reality, you could further break that down into god as persuasion…’
out of Context;
‘how does one think about anything without a trail of vomit to follow from the lips?… the evil animate tricks that wish and guilt trip the rest of the social structure into collapse, but bring your own umbrella as the glass shards rain down into this soft parade charade, the mighty swinging thing that creeps and calls our names from the distance… the restricted wits of the Prometheus bound, a crass metaphor for what could work for intelligence in a world quite this fiendish, as it postures and pounds so hellishly upset of true impotence…’
out of Context;
‘some complexity protrudes from the organ which i call a brain, this projected something is where i am left standing with imagination to my right and the hastily quicksilver critical faculty to my left, and the internal conflict wells up like a fount to express in random symbols hurled to face those demons full-front…’
out of Context;
‘we have the cultural blinding agent in our eyes as a collective, we cannot get over the fact that we are more splendid all together than as the various separately achieving ulterior motivators, and trying to pep talk the new world army into submission… representing the American scream in the age of inevitable oppression…’
out of Context;
‘we choose the bitter pill to swallow first, whether we know it or not, and the grief and the guilt come from this influence deep inside the conscious mind… a supine gesture for an antiquated laze, twelve gauges to free the head, and sometimes making the grey matter splatter more brilliant…’