so another one is on the horizon again…how severe to be stuck in this space of confinement yet again…the motion turns it on tomorrow, but my eyes need not see, no ears to hear through static contemplations…the intriguing sustenance gained from positive flow is undeniable, and makes my feelings ring with a passionate pace, though the negative space filters in through like a radioactive drip that keeps lingering inside the instinct…an industrial strength flair for the impassioned plea to exceed…the goals from parents, the thoughts towards a desecrated future, and the delivery of pursuit into an even darker reality…what is this fear that resides in mind of the hatred that succeeds to pull the distracting muscle pushing backwards on the teeter-toter of realized experience and the nature of second-guessing?
….I speak of jealous things that well-up from the heart, eating …
9 parts deep; 1st -Significator, 2nd -Air, 3rd -Fire, 4th -Water, 5th -Earth, 6th -Triangle/ Left, 7th -Triangle/ Right, 8th -Reconciler, 9th -Triangle/ Center… answers to questions you need only ask once…
out of Context;
‘the senses can overwhelm the user, creating a need in the resident to get free, but not always in a pleasant way depending upon the person who chooses to leave. abuse of the reason to live is no means to destruction, just more reason to wonder what the hell is going on within the mental illness of the capitalist pigs ruling over the ruling party no matter what.’
out of Context;
‘to surge ahead is the greatest wealth that the electric soul can provide, and potential becomes kinetic so easily, thoughts become the next new structure to dismantle at some point. humor allows for this balance to thrive within the most degrading and deranged circumstances. the structures function through their internal dichotomies, and this altogether makes the understanding of the knowledge so more potent.’
styles and fads are the conditioning that surrounds our occasional instances requiring our presences in forms channelling instinct into the furnace, like some purifying extinction process that needs to be, and the reborn thing is the product in waiting. For some individuals, it is even like a baby or child in waiting, and their wombs are ready to indulge in the experience of procreation.
out of Context;
‘We only condemn ourselves when helping another of our own kind. Their burden and baggage becomes ours by default on our loans of attention made out in full interest of the situation as it transpires, but fuck the blasphemy of this other real thing that protrudes like a sore…’
out of Context;
‘the growth became a cancer of intelligence, the single-minded instead of the single-celled organism, and began a plague of toxic shedding of darker pieces of swirling shards of self.’
out of Context;
‘you flock of dirty souls, you.
can you not desire for more?’
out of Context;
‘My skills nurture a merry middle ground that takes miles to get to, if you walk there, but would be easily passed into through the soul. The pondering lust for answers floats to the surface where ideas manifest, and questions begin the spiralling perilous spin.’
out of Context;
‘We all have a part to play with a role to fill, but we do not need to be so reluctant with our senses. They always fill the spaces before and after us, and our awareness extends beyond anything referred to as time or space, drifting though stabilizing the greater whole of the essential universe. Screaming through the darkness of dust…’
