out of Context;
‘crash landing on Wall Street this past September 17th, the baying of the capitalist pigs has sunk to a new low so the people had no other choice than to retaliate in the most obscure and peaceful way possible, and they flocked to this cause young to aged alike on this first actual day of the occupation movement for most people as a worldwide solidarity began forming underneath the noses of those who might have seemed to lose hope for a new mission as some perhaps figured they would die before the next revolution came about… indeed some have died though not specifically as lost causes as many have written since grand time immemorial off into abyssal spaces of primal memory buried in the vast dark matter universe Here where the particles pulse and chime…’
out of Context;
‘way past truly skeptical truths that smother their worth… the game is restriction of senses and information that would allow a realized momentum of escape from this corrupted civilized structure that must include possession of a strong sense of self for too many of us, the passive doormat collection that serves as an international justice league just recently starts to bottom out from the silent economic terror that has been perpetrated by this deranged factionalization of society’s muscle without certain constraint that requires some form of necessary understanding before making actions in the steady slithering stream that flows from the constraints of the smaller pond or pool of “water” in its horizontal journey to the larger body…’
out of Context;
‘there’s that old life challenge again to meet death in full frontal glory no matter what the price it rears in the end when the cost is that of the catastrophic life equation cast aside at swift liberty… the body reaches out but only a pitiful expectation returns to the fools that take their time too seriously in this the gloried hole where the inverse of wholeness plays a role in conception to this very cautious assembly of parts in control, but does that even stop us at all from thinking like we are the forces of control merely because we have independence through consciousness… though, where does even that come from i wonder aloud, and sit uncomfortably in my chair as i am aware of being oddly unaffected to some level in this… the vessel underneath…’
out of Context;
‘screaming, the pits of hellish anger and guilt grow deeper like infernal wounds underneath the subcutaneous fat of the domesticated human, pain that reaches beyond the nerve endings into the actual human mind as it bleeds through into thoughts and stray emotions alike to flay the virtual skin caged in the mind’s eye as a tormented picture show would throw depraved active images against those so darkened inside steamed brain juices… the projection of the soul upon windows called ‘eyes’ to those in the know…’
out of Context;
‘something cthonic, even with hideous ideas of cosmic evil that Lovecraft unleashed into the grand subconscious stream when using the adjective, comes from the dark unknown underneath which it was erringly changed to mean the depths of the sea at first perhaps before the outer space was a reference last… the hive demonic intelligence is our own at one end of the spectrum, related to the hive mind of the human animal that pushes us out so many clones in line with varying directions of motion throughout our lives on this planet, and yet no matter how we might beseech the system it will not yield to our frequent harangues for argument…’
out of Context;
‘this open err in reason… accepting the steamed-clean blade of the scalpel in one hand to suddenly slash the eye being held open by the other hand, this is the art we want to see with death as an obvious risk per say, but is this the truth stored behind these ideas we are in the middle of perceiving so frequently whether through televised observation or complex calamity of real life playing out all on its own?… the weather is over casting a spell over my eyes as the space betwixt the air gets less hot within the depths of this pit of hell where humidity hits the soul with deeper penetration than some obscure encounter in the sweaty darkened streets any day of the week, but where humans move with lumbering lizard grace with every step…’
out of Context;
‘the worth you diffuse like an unholy aura without need of light becomes too much for the mortal to bare when the demands far outweigh the fair use acting as a buffer, all stiff barriers fall over eventually worn down because of their standard of vertical angle all straight and narrowed like the mentality of those who are worthless once the points are blunted… the forces around us are irregular and conform to no specific erosive quality as they break the bonds of all kinds without qualifier, to assume a particular station of standardization is folly and dementia as that too cracks and falls apart under the strength of the changing motions of the mob that cannot see the good snakes for the bad ones as they drive the system to cleanse itself…’
out of Context:
‘already biased assumption based upon what is a preconceived notion of right and wrong, we can reveal what sick ideas are allowed by the culture to be sustained over the vital rights of the individual of which there is no valid substitute, and there is something to be said of trying to understand one’s own unique body over letting others tell you all about theirs leaving you with a feeling of needed comparison…’
out of Context;
‘applied by the liars on either side of the affairs struggling with their confusion of glaring eyes and dares disguised as mainlined hard-to-define row of words supplied by your narrator, and it is my mind’s eye struggling against the lair of the dreadful and unaware brutal minds as they enter without careful consideration of where they tread so light and fair… with caution proceed, but do not lose your balance to your disease, keep your center as you have no need in using overly righteous conjunctions or confusing preconceived of judgments Here… the bliss of the mind is that it can retreat…’
out of Context;
‘the unfortunate are those who cannot defy their cage as though it triggers strange nightmares that eat the soul’s truth for some bizarre death wish that takes our time in surges and waves as a spiral graces the caves with its sunlight rave in present collapsing naive sprays, and words with nerves lash against the brave with stinging sudden rays, the dark soul of the neanderthal struck dead… but they still live on in my mind, you see, through the graphical limitations of your mind’s eye as i tread this vast distance… the ghost in brain matter undead… my mind is now your mind, though you still do as you wish i am always there now, and you can temporarily rid me of this link though sometimes they do come back…’