out of Context;
‘i feel lost like this… saving up for an expulsion into the abyss… loveless, disgraced trip to falling… what can I give?… errant in divine, a fool’s proper wisdom of conceptual content, and nothing you would be interested in by the end…’
out of Context;
‘slide into September like a sloth, three toes that it lost a long time ago, a cost of fairly even weight the kind I cannot even Here demonstrate… what is another year anyway, which is to say this, but what has another man yet another year to live?… the solid concrete forms of His years, whoever this man may be in the future or past, a traveler nonetheless rehashed…’
out of Context;
‘obliteration would save us from our lost gyrations messing over the mediocre lines of disbelief, pulling the puppet strings to make those lines blur, and somewhere we separate from ourselves… that being said, the finished story has opened my mind palate, and it still wants a taste of the everything that a warped imagination can provide…’
out of Context;
‘what souvenirs are left us besides our stories witnessed, and the gifts we have kept with us, but something other than the decadent positions… of surface glimmers like the tans, the burns, the blistered exceptions that shimmer as we see them in our mind’s eye projected…’
out of Context;
‘the tragedy is that we still resist, and give-up in a balancing act that will deprive as much as deprave all the rest of us, making tests of us to find out who is the best of us…’
this is water many men fear to tread, late at night in their beds, drifting to sleep with the dead…
a warped reflective chancre that persuades the dim view darker, some individuals worth mentioning because of their endearing compassion, however, I don’t happen to work with any of those people right now.
