out of Context;
‘ritualizing the lifestyle like the slaves to extracurricular idols as saints with the church veneer and the shining screen teeth eating against type the believers and their beliefs like a treat or snack of casual urge to consume, but to assume the ends means nothing of the result of attacking with a hunger gnawing restlessly in aggressive longing to conquer the meal one presumes to give its livelihood for a value in the devourers’ cookbook canceling one residual avenue for food… sustenance in small steps taking critical charge as the visually gory love for blood pours off from the screaming faces raped and tortured in scenes witnessed flickering through a tiny window quantified by experience of cheapened trauma allowing the dismissal of the real fates of the human beings…’
out of Context;
‘the journey of living makes some more weary than others swaying and bound to fall overboard into fathomless waters in this dream made up of seamen as the roles we are fit to tailored to serve as a crew as each member keeps the vessel moving along toward the horizon line beyond this life, and the body can have its’ own agenda and will not always care who thinks themselves at the helm or controls of this ship… you can either ship wreck or ship rock and enjoy the ride feeling the waves sway you side to side as you glide like the rest of us, some of the others cruise at speeds too volatile to handle as a general guiding rule for anyone else to apply, but constantly we miss the flowing of substantial progress…’
out of Context;
‘the meat moves and writhes churning and viral passing along traits maybe better left in other times and places, intimation of random deception of the culture proliferating throughout even those tiniest of details as the demons and weasels of humanity crawl to utilize sanity into warping the minds gratuitously of all spokespeople involved in this consistent spin of reflected deflection that drains, but is the state of this artistic means motion to an end worth enough to have set out to get to the other side as the static clinging wrap to capture our best traits is pulled wide…’
out of Context;
‘as multiple factors are required for the graduation of these distant collaborations, when one looks into the expanded vision experienced as nothing and then further beyond that it can be seen with a naked third eye the wonderland of imagination fleshed out and exposed before each mind’s eye to a massive change in the works of others… the fear of nothing, the fear of freedom, cannot be withheld long by a soul yearning to breathe free of these most hassling interactions of dramatic proportions between personalities and the people who wield them as weapons… those derivative holes that do nothing more than to suckle upon the goodness of the world like a parasite perceived to live like you or i for the most part, but take the blinders off or put the glasses on…’
out of Context;
‘our dust spread over aeons to conjoin with consciousness to mutate and create new lifeforms to taste in this ever-evolving variation that does exist whether we wished for it or not… conceiving of all these devices to contain and distract the all-too menacing of qualities that reside bold within the human mind biding time until such a period where the leaking cannibal fluids will not be quelled by damn nor sudden bouts of being sorry, all these tricks are far too callous to finish off the damage done by creatures of distaste and incredulous wasted potential fisted as implement of souls’ destruction shifting the sallow and winsome weathered look blanked out after the generation becomes factual terrain to be styled, or at least thought so by the trendy wannabes who tread weakly in the shadows…’
out of Context;
‘an unwavering clarity in this… the respect for those dolled-up waifs traveling in circles far too distant for me to rotate within as the whips and chains of the soul are bared teeth savoring the taste and the consistency of skin as device of thrilling conclusions and endless romanticism with sensual possibilities pulling some of us along by a leash, and the tightened collar grip the mass-ters tug upon to control this defenseless puppy’s hold on reality becomes much too much while that tightening costume of the gimp wears thin in small increments that make the skin itch for tender mercies or a pledge for forgiveness from those wielding the power over who stays and who goes, but the sweat and the screams for those few brief glimpses helped the victim absorb the terror by indulging…’
out of Context;
‘life-changing pieces which will create the puzzling person we end up with as finalized version, but even posthumous memories and items cannot replace the face that came with the name or disdain that might have been common to one who has done so much to change the worlds swirling around them as visibly displaced remains the echoing sensations… like ghosts always in revolution…’
out of Context;
‘the subtle rage builds up as does the tension within this cage that has been pushed as sage advice when the reality promotes more ire and frustration as the minutes keep ticking away as it cranks up the suspense that people are sensitive to when the social menace lays its’ hands on you too, and it will then move as you sight the beast for yourself wondering where it ever came from within this natural modern world under the false impression that innocence is some benign ideal expressed by those with lost yet lingering youth… dowsing for a living faith…’
out of Context:
‘the dead beats of the apocalypse heart spread enlightened fire to the resisting heads unwilling to try understanding this mess made before they ever got Here to confess empty what it is they sold as souls for the material left in the wake, this a seething sea of debris and decay as the pieces rust and writhe as machine gone astray as much in the dark as the light of a new age where nothing rules over us as our lives are each so very precious both to us and the people we affect by our thoughts and actions coming alive…’
out of Context;
‘unknown to the witness… the cattle rattle death and breathe their last for the impudent sacrifice to avarice and risk to alter fate with their lives in as tormented a wait for the chopping block as the weight of a grisly ritual takes place, but how far is it that we are removed from this slaughter as caustic disco in which we have caught ourselves in a danse macabre much too late after throwing up our hands awaiting for some thrill ride to take place, the thrill of a moving from one reality into another on a path which none may ever follow into the abyss as recycling of souls…’