out of Context;
‘the day off in this weird state of disgrace is not a fair trade for less pay these days, as the heat grows worse by the seconds ticking away, and trapped in a hoodoo series of obstacles to prevent safe passage to the unwary… the shadows hold more than empty within them, you are the shadow when you are dead, and thus need to make whole your own dreams of unique selective direction… the dystopia opens out into one’s soul hoping for glimmers of respect in the eyes of the many, while the cruel cycles twist the winds into directions that give no yield to human harmony, and the fragments of sanity that compel one to subdue the true self is really insanity…’
out of Context;
‘the ghosts in every room look at us much differently than we look at each other as flesh and bone creatures, their shadows are longer and resist the darkness as a means of transposing their substance which is now dark matter/ energy carrying the conscious as an intangible vessel, but these things we are only supposed to learn as fiction becomes real to all of our senses at once… the vanguard of the singularity, as though it were like a gateway to another dimension, is what one might term the ‘Singular’… at one time, the scales lift and lower to reveal the shock that comes with this transcendental growth that purges from our minds as though like a wave of particles shooting across the room from our mind’s eye…’
out of Context;
‘we are each our own law made manifest by the dual natures of certainty and its shadow opposition, in the dark matter which inhabits space the essence of mind creates/ fills that imaginary frame of time, and it hangs over our heads as the truth fascinates and infatuates the whores and the fiends who traipse in and out of influence over the aspects to our own world… we are mated with brilliant sparks called life that requires us to think inside as much as beyond ourselves, destined to make the maps necessary for the function of style in which we become accustomed and all-too righteous in defense of, but we make ourselves stare at the sun for reasons we could never possibly fathom if only to just imagine…’
out of Context;
‘as the spinning energies wear thin on the skin of the cosmic void, and we are taunted/ haunted by the idea of eventual collapse without hope to lift us above our fears and panic, to allow us the motion of drifting on our laurels once the satisfaction threshold is breached by human will… the essence of the emptiness surrounds like a dream that all of us participate within, the rigid systems we employ are only temporary gears to displace ourselves further from a conscious removal of self, and we seek to interact with while at the same time deny others from looking inside of our minds…’
out of Context;
‘i do write as though my freedom were compromised on all levels but this one portal at my fingertips, there are shameless attempts to provoke a reaction from any kind of audience that will make the effort to read my work, and i have heard from close sources that some of my best “work” consists of these momentary diatribes of non-fiction… sometimes you might call it ‘prosetry’ in a way of containing the contradiction in action, the mind boils fervent energy like water in a kettle, and what leaks from the interaction of living substance is a caustic expression of what it takes to be real Here… these are the distracting qualities of the human experience…’
out of Context;
‘sometimes the state of reality is too overwhelming for the passionless mutants that stomp and wail against the perceived insult of actual human intelligence, but these inhumans have found their ways into political forums that dispose of the respect and credibility deserved of one who actually tries to motivate positive change… we are vain and we are blind, we hate people who are not polite, but a heavy reliance on this principle alone is false and leads a society astray… we quip and insult our way into taking advantage of others who we do not even know with factual evidence of their decency…’
out of Context;
‘swiveling like some ocular oracle implanting suggestions in the mind’s eye, blind and ever-loving of the violent peace crashing in as the calming tsunami sending pulses miles onto shore, and the nervous reaction to this intense and vital bliss leaving an excruciating afterburn on the taste-buds as the mouth leaks words to wonder by in these dusky diverse concepts possibly based around some vicious lie… keep talking to that part of ourselves that tries to shield us away from the blissful release on life, talking it out of the harassing order it seems to want clockwork when all bodies in motion work on their own timing Here, but in the least reclined state to better advance through the years intact as the shells wear thin… where do we depart, oh ghoulish friends?…’
out of Context;
‘as a warrior upon perhaps a purest path to take past all perverted grace of leprous debt insane resuscitated joining hands to force the energy forth like hardcore flaneurs roaming the streets with no hope for a future setting of day and night in cycles of systematic repetition… not nihilists but hopeless idlers wandering aimlessly through dark stone columns of souls variously lit at spots like some vibrant everlasting torch or candle expelling darkness in a short halo around its view of the city, the pants are worn at the knees and see-through to some degree while these stains from the blood will not go away, and the washing machines walk among the mad unyielding fiends you get used to seeing everyday…’
out of Context;
‘straining in attempt to see what others might consider a veiled truth lurking in the cosmic underbrush as it is hidden by so much distracting matter… whether it is far nobler to give in to the mighty truths of others, giving their systems the upper hand for your own learned intelligence which by proxy gives them the power to state ugly words and terms of hateful hidden gestures over your life’s work for decades to come, but the rebellion comes in so many forms capable to shatter the current mode of deranged stasis to which we have become all-too accustomed as the rage in our hearts builds to greater and greater extents as the rebels begin to overpopulate those wishing to maintain this thing the way it is… oh, the precious interpretations are out there, dear reader…’
out of Context;
‘the conscious kinetic tingling with charisma through the magnetic personal energy, mutates but does not conform to every serious thinker that believes they hold weight, and melding reaction and its mentalism recreated as side effect the thoughtless tractor pull… no patience for the stayed and true, tradition breaks people overcurious for more, friction in tension with the sparking of attention altering time/ space/ and conscious matter… far outweighs the lurking quality, manifested thinking while others holler hallowed the fodder with random assuage in shallow pursuit of lingering moral excess, and writing by night light and other avenues of the weak end… docked into the new understanding while couched in understatement…’