out of Context;
‘teased and strayed away by the small-minded others trampling on this thing-that-feels… to understand with all our colloquial methods what abhorrent manners manipulated into being together trapped in pace with one another in a race that seems to start and stutter at random intervals as we tolerate this in the name of the chase, another displaced act of “mercy” from a faceless lord over the tiniest decisions and indiscretions that only one being can carry through when all around feels as oppressive from deceit and mistrust in the dirty pocket of humanity, and respect is well-earned by anyone that can handle the burns from these ropes as they are used to bind and gag that single cloud of happiness you were riding to show you this… the cruel world in all its tasteless travesty…’
out of Context;
‘no more professionals just workers united to produce more junk that no one ever NEEDS to have, which does make us all artists in some regard in Andy Warhol’s words, but can leave the best and hardest working people we have left questioning why they are working so hard and what it is they are working toward… the toxic kinesis from one stage to the next in development of the perfected slave race to aid those ancient astronauts back from a time out of space, we build empires to satisfy our curious neuroses that speak of command and control over our peers, but that violent practice leads to revolt and destruction more often than not as it seeks to reach new insights…’
out of Context;
‘this is the civilized thing to do perhaps, to just give up and realize what we are, and what we are doing to ourselves and the planet as long as we are Here… the terrible wants that our humanity has allowed to spawn, has instilled within our latest brand of humanity a sense of paranoia for protecting the self that has never been quite as defined as it is now, and we are afraid of anything differing from what we are familiar with might entail for us personally… use of the so many different things to distract our attention from what stares at us from a million miles away, the sedation of humanity has been a disjointed endeavor that never quite works as fully as the powers that be might wish…’
out of Context;
‘this god-tested failure is not whether we are gods or believe that there has to be a god, but whether if we are going to choose worship of a force outside of ourselves thus putting our energy resource into this makeshift corporate entity that can be utilized against the collective will, or can it?… well, that depends upon if you can convince the rest of the collective will to believe in one reality through as many selves cycling the enervation back into one coalesced entity, or are we a collection of the incarnated representatives of the multitude pantheon of forces mistaken time and again as gods compelling this earth to move?…’
out of Context;
‘their integrity of lies that defines a generation to come next in meeting a challenge profound and with the potential of the enlightened bits hanging over the heads of the ungainly apparatus that is ‘human’, and wonder what it is that messages were meant to say to us?… we look to the dark humors of those great and lost thinkers of the previous ages past, and we become fascinated just as easily as we come to reject our perceptions of what is real, coming to distrust that which does not appear to follow any familiar order of our individualistic views… we look to a darker vision than the one that appears to us naturally because of our fears feel justified in preventing the making of things the way we want them to be…’
out of Context;
‘initiate the constriction of the object… to contain what does not deserve to be locked away in a jar or a box, though it is difficult to feel the confidence surging to the surface of the skinny fellow i am, but am not convinced that i have a vision so minor as not to achieve it… if i do not try, it will fizzle to the next worthy contender whether i wish this or not to be the case, and the contents of this hard-set head is mixed between junk and gems of inestimable value that can only be sorted and collected by the rarest of authorities not beset by the urge to judge all things out of hand… some judge out of concern that nothing is going right…’
out of Context;
‘we have devised a means to the next ends, each on our own quest to inhabit our own personal realm enmeshed with others in this particular station of time/ space limitation which makes me question what other limiting factors would present themselves into further dimensional habitability, and how is it that our former selves breakdown to reapply themselves into other visions and visionaries to create the realities made by dreams?… we inhabit these dreams that are not our own, but questioning always the root of our existence leads to distraction by other questions that linger and remain after the main options are transfigured for this lifeform we extract as this reality…’
out of Context;
‘inked to every other being in this rarified state in time and space, submitting to the cruel standards that provoke us to adapt or die, and occasionally we meet our maker pondering too long the weight of conformity and community when may be we should just jump in head first to understand that which we do not… people can be the liability that is required to make things happen in any particular order in this world, the masses are necessary for the ebb-and-flow effect that shapes and moulds our atmosphere Here, and from that first narrow passage to the last we have the opportunity to create worlds within worlds… we waste our materials and we waste our lives working too hard for little compensation in return for our labors…’
out of Context;
‘making the motions to self-cannibalize starting with the brain and working my way down to the rest of the corpse… i am attempting to eat the strange vessel that oxides and decays right before my eyes before it has a chance to disappear of its own accord, the disease is the reconciliation of that schism between forces of consciousness contrasting as it connects to a material reality to which the rest of us have some pent-up fear of losing a slippery grip on this stable static relatively-narrowed environment left to our own devices, but found art put together like a puzzle manifested through reverse engineered work as perhaps a Rube Goldberg/ Marcel Duchamp piece of a readymade phantasm made flesh… if there is but one pope out there, then the rest of us are the anti-popes…’
out of Context;
‘however, there are no instruction manuals as we are all gathered about in this sandbox filled with filth and all those other materialist toys to use with a tyrannical touch, and we are forced to understand their technology in order to survive their games that they play both in our minds and with our bodies… we force ourselves to understand what we only know fragments of as we dream, all the various life times melding together in this aspect of the unreal made flesh-bound matter beast, and Here we are at the cross-hatching of line where laws and rules are only used to sway the tight vote in one direction of certainty over another… the man-made treatments that have left psychic echoes resonating for all to pick up on…’