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…’
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…’
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…’
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…’
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;
‘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;
‘the momentum from this haste of mob mentality that strikes distaste in those mouths caught screaming on the way down as though they could not have ever fathomed a force to pull them over the edge into an ablyss (blissful nothing; the bliss attained by ignorance) from which no one can be torn back from whole because of the ever-involving nature of this swirling locomotion…’
out of Context;
‘the symbols and signals that garner respect for those that know how to play these vindictive little games that mute more than one or two voices to exorcise the random ghosts of rebellion out of the system… i cannot stand this rage at an impotent stance neutralized by a credible opinion from out of ivory towers gilded in a shroud of oblivion as a humanity staggering out from underneath the shadow tries as many keys as possible to unlock this doorway as an exit, in some kind of path through all the collected works and versions of this station earth…’