khet's coroner Archives - Page 82 of 152 - All The Wrong Topics dot com

Whip or Will?

out of Context;
‘try filling in the spaces to resonate and relate to this hanging onto concepts that seem to make sense in my head though not always when applied thinking in limitations with a practical mindset trying to affix and focus upon the end result of this behavior… coming to the call and answering with blank vocal monotone to show just how disinterested i am to be saying this directly into your ear while out the other end you are there listening in on the conversation converting in electricity the ranges of human emotion telling me, no, dragging me to reap these just rewards…’




Occam’s Tazer

out of Context;
‘sharing ideas between spaces of loss and laziness while at the same time finding an inspiration to fly away from the burning sun turning into the shadows to glimpse another sight of the dark heart the soul tries to hide in code like anachronistic nursery rhymes cursing us with their blind subconscious impetus, yet we might try to force control for at least a little while living in these holy shells chosen ammunition of the gods who know no better than to fuck with our morals and our laws by instilling layered meanings into the virtues we seek to stabilize and defy the random chaos writhing all throughout this fragmented of a psycho-social display of dominance, and frying the nervous side of a physical mind…’




Unfinished Saints

out of Context;
‘the new ages without impossible odds stacked up against us in its own mocking trying to ground the animal in what it is and what role it plays in the rushing hoodlum onslaught of opportunistic traitors as only the villains seem able to move any of the pieces in whatever fashion they wish, and by the pushing of their ideal elite standards upon us as a whole society there have been many fatalities as the wealthy nihilism gets taken to extremes in this money-hungry culture of vapid claims and insolent charges all seeming to sell something for nothing… we keep rebuilding a world that is in a constant flux by settling massive structures in places where the people have begun to revolt as the wealthy expose their sheltering claims for the brittle lies…’




we are such douches…

out of Context;
‘our ulterior motives sometimes those internal mechanisms we are not aware of clockwork twitches moving the spastic frame into places it perhaps would not have dared otherwise without consciousness in this efficient functional reality grinding along, ticking out measured moments on as man-made a face as no one adores watching the flickering hands displace slow hours into waste that chills the bones because the time slips away in the shortest increments that no one stops to appreciate except occasionally me and those handful of others lurking behind the sealed off screen door to the digital floor, and ‘ding!’ Here we are in the last place you’d expect from the shallow ways of Mankind whose kindness seems either harsh or cruel to inhibit a casual growth of rebellious youth from cropping up again and again…’




to Boon Doggle

out of Context;
‘you don’t trust them with their flim-flam personal displays swaggering to take control if you don’t watch out for your whole, knots you cannot see linked though by invisible thread tied like the rest of us tied together for better or words that decide to sever their relationship forever with our essence in the which where we credit the winner with the glory of the massive a collection of souls weighing heavily upon the face of this earth as heathen as it may seem to be with regard to a killing deity dispatching without mercy, and it is we who become trapped in our own definitions needing to be broken in at least a house-broken way so that we are not responsible for cleaning the mess made after we have left…’




Analogy as an Elegy

out of Context;
‘only fooling themselves into thinking these things certain, and yet these cracks are now showing themselves as contradictions of theory put into practice as more methods added to the madness swirling confusion into a deeper embedded tragic sum of parts but gracelessly shuffling with a tag of sadness at our heels… screaming bloody murder silently as the matter dulls the sounds of that haunted taunting from within mingling with a few ghosts of your own friends as aspects to your dream that never end even if you do, there are more than horrible things that the imagination can summon to frighten a specter out of you so that you run babbling trying to convince everyone of the end about to come as a dirge waiting to be sung in low mournful tones for regret of not knowing…’




a Work weak Reversed

out of Context;
‘it appears that people wrote these laws and rules most of whom were men that could not do much more to advance divine intervention than to acknowledge that workers need more time relaxing to endure the monochrome colors limited in relation to the actual world we live in… and the work week carries on. no matter where you are or what it is you do, there are certain qualities about working that separates mind and body by allowing the body’s motor consciousness a control with which allows some to think about many things at once or with more focus as perception concentrates itself into a narrow beam to activate the energy for multitasking for example requiring a slightly higher perception of a person’s immediate surroundings, and diversion then becomes the bane of the activity…’




Knocking Over the Empty

out of Context;
‘this oppressive idea of oblivion used in eliminating oblivion from thinking as the heart gets lost in its’ own twitching spells disposed to making one think endlessly of those fucked up instances where if only a bestial side of ourselves could awaken and eliminate the creeping distortions inherent in trying to live a life free of those killing obligations from which others seem to suffer, what loses me is how much i want to suffer as the martyr set upon as a person deserving of this instrument of torture for their people like sacrificial scapegoat sent into oblivion just as easily with a knife or noose yet that is how cruel we have to be in order to kind of get anything what we want done or the corpse gets left unidentifiable to authorities…’




Fiddleback

out of Context;
‘something counter to whatever whiny muscle rock that seems to me to permeate mainstream rock radio for what there is left of that old ideal out there of jerks as profitable role models because my ear is not groomed for the radio anymore now that i have experienced a strange climate change between school-age and the person who is writing these words now, and i guess i somehow have always wanted to produce satirical outsider art in the truest sense of a satire trying to be a reflective tool expressed like maybe a ‘canary in the mine’ scenario holding relevant meaning up effectively until the canary like the run-on joke dies a horrible death…’




Constipainted

out of Context;
‘constipated institutions which work even worse than the outside because of all the rules in reverse pressing against us and our resistance against that wrecked of an ideology, but still we move on and give of ourselves to the others that appear worthy the gifts of human interaction as we have come to know it in this distract rear view of the good old days when there was never any need to be this hostile or suspicious of fellow humans in motion doing whatever it is they choose to do in their own time which is none of our business personally… but somehow worms and maggots will edge their way in where they do not belong to try whittling information from the wilted choices of word that people in their weakness and vulnerable states falter attempting…’