out of Context;
‘even for as late as the game is now, i need to adapt or die in this newly informed social order that has accrued without me, but what use is it to give out this much clear information at once?… i was enjoying a slightly better mutual friendship with my longtime live-in lover, many times i have been the untrustworthy one between the two of us and for that i have piled regret up to the doorstep in the demand for restitution, or even the one without the same mapping of mutual benefit that would have naturally lead to a more profound relationship instead of being tired and unfulfilled…’
out of Context;
‘pushed onto the mass mind by a general authority’s idle wandering sights devised and fronted by the public face of opinion believed justified to lie, but where is the dignity acted out as preached by the hypocrite humble instincts that cow down to and cater to the whims of the wealth and its dirty money hands as the strings whip about the limbs to yank and distort to fear machine manipulated Mankind mentality to terrorize a dysfunctional mirror that humanity has become for now…’
out of Context;
‘the vines writhe alive weaving the pattern together an unknown growing from a root of dark potential learning something for itself, a wisdom subtle and lurking like the lady of the lake to present the weapon of truth to the right person who will charge through lessons and make an example for the rest of us, but we each have some variation of agonist/ alienist heroics deep within us timed to be patient with the action though it would appear to ooze slowly as the lazy avaricious desire of the population so thoroughly comforted and sheltered with no role specific until we discover it on personal questing to reveal the self as it appears to each of us… we were conceived with an eye toward the ideal of the population becoming enraptured with its convenience culture jam…’
out of Context;
‘i write to soothe the ragged tectonic plates of my mind while the reality quaking potential moves on from where it last left droppings of something wild to say as mutants on the edge of description… we are those mutants of previous generations always on the quest for that something which suits us best as opposed to what we are forced to accept as the best of all possible outcomes, impressed upon us the ideas that we are uncertain until in that mighty career is found the way to contribute to society as a hole that keeps vacuuming up the debris as well as the great notions that change how everything works Here, but it is only up to us as we are ever-developing into a different creature altogether in this strange cosmic incubator…’
out of Context;
‘conscious and sinister Mankind that rapes and pillages the land, its resources and its native peoples bound… always taking and devouring the little lambs and sheeple as sacrifice to the lord god ‘progress’ in a blind sense of honor and faith, it is this blindness that inflicts itself from within though not afflicting the sense of one’s vision necessarily, but that of complacency and stasis created to uphold a certainty of decay and ultimately a stillness transcending the hurry and bustle of the current human extremes of comfort and caution…’
out of Context;
‘everything in this critical mass together weaving a tapestry out of the cosmic and that pulsing real suspended by animation of the human form as the current meaty vessel in mind, a robot gifted with the access to other realms of thought than the trained response which makes the human being much more of a dangerous creature in the kingdom than a weakness might betray to the rest of the tribe, and the dishonored pariah walks away to start new colonies and associations as well as new references for a larger collective unconscious of shared experiences to coalesce into actual reality…’
out of Context;
‘we are struggling to hang onto our own versions of reality in ways that tangle with and engage other glorious wave-phases in the out there held in for the potential surging that the living crave to savor, and manifest into dreamy creative reflections of what they would choose to believe whether multiple lives all at once stormy with its own mad eye in the center sweeping over genealogical lines born from the tides of trust and lust in the strange simplicity so scary when it strikes the steps to light the path into the fray, this struggle living conflicting lightning as kinetic description or scarification ritual written in this space as a timely visual with rotating appeal from various audiences…’
out of Context;
‘affairs of the casual human being, and it is at this state we have been in for too many centuries to count where we secure a frustrated impatience for a situation so out of our hands we become impetuous and brash to change things for the “better”… what is this ideal of better so unique to each of us in our time Here that we would get so completely distracted from the point onto other more tangential issues as they swirl only to get flushed out by the ignorance of Mankind’s approach to living best above all other inferior beings in the out there, especially as we get into a kind of apocalypse fever where culturally we crave an end to the static monster thus created…’
out of Context;
‘working the human electric devil like a puppet to fuel the dishonor in detailed displays and reenactments on the grand scale a cruel theater would require to happen correctly, or at all for that matter as things do not manifest cheaply even as cultures of quick disposal have aspired to for centuries on end as their history might have us to believe in cryptic classroom settings of betrayed logic and lore declassified for the general public to absorb and ignore…’
out of Context;
‘from our collection of cells with our army and defense of the proof as we know it… whether you strum or blow your wad through a bell, the musica diabolica remains within everyone as fragment of the curious and rebellious interjection as an opposer residing from inside the mind, and it is these perverts of the real that have superseded the culture with their secret and most hushed rituals of self indulgence breaching taboos housed in the matter of the grey…’