out of Context;
‘minus the data of a misinformation wave that leaks into our modern age of almost total technological assimilation subsuming the casual human in all their luxury into the meat of the system merely by the interactivity central to this our storming force pushing into the digital, where this everything takes on a novel appearance to those novice to the digital world set in motion and constantly moving even in those long gaps of time that we seem to inhabit fully as the animal of humanity soon becoming aware…’
out of Context;
‘a trail of thoughtful dots following my ransack of head trauma as witnessed in the human condition Here… realizing that my work is difficult to say the least to strain through in one sitting especially for one not used to all of the zigs and the zags my pretty nous likes to toss like caltrops under your feet sometimes creating a yelp of pain before the motion and the reaction settles granting the swift occurrence of knowledge if the individual is wary of the prize opposite to the frustration of seeing all the words…’
out of Context;
‘the spiritual essence that gives us the i-don’t-know-what to achieve these grand heights to which we have become accustomed and taken as granted, in this strange conundrum of feats and defeats outweighing those true opinions we have for ourselves unless otherwise prevented on the individual level where others decide our idea of fate and destiny to which we may eventually fall prey to machinations or plots that portray us in as socially unflattering a light without the simple courtesy for our basic knowledge, and from the outside we all appear as mechanical animals to a robotic extreme unkind to the idea of human error because to justify one vile act is to excuse others…’
out of Context;
‘gathered together to construct a picture of what a real civilization could be with the possibility to do more once becoming a fully aware and consciously responsible person that millennia ago were simpering fools of a prehistoric persuasion that didn’t ever know any better than the violence we collaborate and make deals with now in desperate urges to sway the fingers of time back to the beginning with this expanded understanding intact, but this machine doesn’t work like that in this near-dawning age siphoning the dark we have originally witnessed ourselves to be transmuted and transmogrified into the emotional gold our souls…’
out of Context;
‘wanting features of one’s owned self launches into a rancid fit of disapproval for the centuries never to have lived as current crusades visible seem to lack in comparison with the epic validations that few of us nowadays have the will to achieve as originally attentive study perhaps, but this i can only surmise as true to assume as our world is still epically spinning even as we choose to dehumanize and compress and pull all passion out of a very real history for the general gratification in self-possessed “greater good” ideal broken by wealth and greed unleashed in a system that would embrace all stances with at least some respect for individuality as now a modern plague…’
out of Context;
‘glories subjectively perceived one mind’s eye at a time in random sequential orders to proceed or be one of the terminated, executed, or further translated into the underlying programming we still strive to understand in our quaint human way of opinions that truly individuates us from any other creature on the planet left wondering what else is there out Here whether tranquil wilderness or violent caustic vibrations that leap and electrify the lust and animated detail for disgusted laughter shared between the fluctuating particulars of human existence most peculiar indeed… launched into the wide unknown…’
out of Context;
‘the soul and its driving engine inside this machine trying to understand the degrading of the dream into this nonsense of reality as material destination Here amidst the flocking horde, a worshipful diatribe against we are found within like an egg to be hatched free to release the creature that later dies as random effect of time and space as detail to another puzzling picture put together wrong through the eyes of a preacher taking steps as the many others before him have to cater their interpretation of the biblical proportions to suit what their deluded ideas of a greater good is whether a heart is in the right place makes no difference…’
out of Context;
‘in far too many ages before we even have reached this place, and we are Here much like any comet or comment projected out aloud as clouded idea allowed to escape into this vacant space incarnation within conscious range of a feasible continuum taken in as supposed incarceration where the vast amounts of labor are subconsciously subdued by the system in authority constantly trying to divine efficiency from the hordes of the human condition held so captive by a craze to be the best of these cast-off clones…’
out of Context;
‘the real heretics are the ones who refuse to see and stay open to the active truth that does not stay idle while others allow their minds to stagnate and dry to the traditional excrement they have been fed for ages since calamity was a vital motivation on someone’s score board, though the games are now convoluted in their rules and regulations defining the space of the gameplay as it requires players to adapt to the system as it stands to work within it as it might distract one away from reality whatever it may be other than actually sitting off to the side trying to hide the relevant facts from the rest of the tribe, and trying to isolate those who take sides by deciding to become the villains…’
out of Context;
‘i became another lunatic like the rest… even though no one really noticed this change but me as the alcohol worked its way into my system without any more register than the tossing back of this poisonous urge as the surge of human debris swirls tighter, pressed like ritual slayings in other countries to happen because of this distinctive lack of compassion which leads us all further down the rabbit hole that society seems impressed to keep taking as route to some kind of oblivion chilling at the doorstep…’