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…’
understand this decrease…with faltering steps approaching the state of numbness…the dollars fall from the pocket, unnecessary trinkets…possessed fetters of a material existence…the spirits of a central intellect gather around the newborn reality…a gaping hole where the music dies…vast and unforgettable echoes of senses pushing past the boundaries…ghastly quotes from the rogues who eat the slithering silence as they pass…standing at the edge of the public opinion…with regard for no one that defies the collective will of this mob…this is where destiny is said to hold sway over the whole…the technique is the guarded secret of creating cultures…moving the tribes of conscious humanity to the corners of their kingdoms…the mentality of the writhing mass invades the strength of the fairest ruler…undermining the ability to think consistently…for the protective structure…the chitinous form has many layers to formulate and carry out the …
locked in a single-minded hustle through the galaxy of unreal space/time continuum, the vacuum of this cosmic device we’ve stumbled upon, and been given a gift of flesh to learn from our mistakes…the outtakes look good in the “outside” world, the place where the dreams are always real for the moments beyond measure, and it is Here from which we have spun ourselves from…the cards are dealt out, and sometimes the dealer takes the lead in the game, sometimes it never happens to be that way…the hearts are mechanical in the most organic form possible as yet…reality has put us at a sense of potent fiction, scientific and technical all at once, and always with roles and functions to suit the varying moods that occur from residing within such a vessel…instill the intent at random, which gives way to …
out of Context;
‘with questions of intellect turning from the emotional realm to the moralistic, and even into the religious territories of wonder. hurdles and experiences one-and-all, but not without certain rewards to be had. the machine grants the probability for success, and a contented cog is an effective piece of movement, free of distractions and earnest to better progress.’
WARNING; the content in this post evokes imagery of a questionable and disgusting nature. Mature audiences please be advised.