out of Context;
‘the house is empty of its contents, but ready to be filled with whatever the imagination can place there to be held until such a time as it is needed by the owner of the manse in question, a place hidden behind the inhabitant’s eyes inside the head as questionable visions sharpen the screaming nerve within each little thought to drive itself outside as though a demon-ridden assortment of clues used to gather evidence contrary to the idea that nothing had ever occurred… an ignorance taken too far to be of anything other than obnoxious detention of the truth tethered by the urgent hypocrisy that evades anything but some vague subjective definition on objectivity…’
out of Context;
‘battered by defiance and demystification as an ocean of men justify their taming of this heathen deity through a definition of quirks that holds the beast to chains of thought and its perception not unlike the laws stuck in our heads… reinforcing the blame or shame or disgust at being a criminal free in a free world tamed by the screws twisted tighter to hear pitiful screams of pain all-consuming in bane of haughty misunderstanding as to cannibalize the corpse of the poor like rich rotten vultures lurking to score…’
out of Context;
‘we can derive a truth from within… a submission to the workings of this will, as it decides to catapult the self through trial and error to understand what it is that makes these creatures become the things they do, still constrained by the idea that a human being is as easily defined as they are shuffled about between ethics as trends used to place people into windows to display befitting their privilege, and hope renewed to see the good in a person while not the withered stalk from which they grew learning…’
out of Context;
‘heroes who might perhaps feel this way all the time locked away into pens of a preconception trading a near perfect likeness of immortality through expression where great people finally succumb as a caricature of themselves or their causes… no black and white, no this or that, only the grey of oblivion the beauty of grey as silent form of the shadow like a slow decay staking so many people who choose their fears over their feelings too often… it is reality which claims the fascist from decency or the decent urge towards community…’
out of Context;
‘again through the back door of the mind into that subtle entrance by your divine lifeline gathered Here for the moment while taking you away from your fears, or perhaps to guide you straight through harm into the abyss from which you first came shooting as shards of splintered sperm oblivious to any direction transferring the energy into a mechanical surging… either way we are allured by a sexual distinction locked in the act looking for and wishing for anything to permeate the shell unforgiven for cracking under this lustful pressure pushing the boundaries much closer together edging us to forward a loving poisonous passion throbbing with horror for those human ways we can be so cruel yet so kind at the worse of times it seems, fucking up the party with our conditions…’
out of Context;
‘we could never be anything else… we describe the many different elements so easily even as we are selective with our participation in those few events taken to be the what we think we want to involve ourselves within because we follow our destiny dragging us through the mire, from the utter desolation of loneliness that triggers a deep-heated hatred inside of us to refuse others who may guide us to a more brilliant conclusion as the general glare of the multitude refuses us as we are…’
out of Context;
‘whether you realize it or not humanity does not exist at the point of a sword demanding the victim to yield by force, but this cannot lead to a valuable outcome as those odd officials we have already seen on the latest news programs can attest to scandal in the midst of service to others as the more selfish and unavoidably sour in this culture choose to maniacally subvert positive attention to exalt the extreme negative as a secret authority masked from people they are chosen to convince they serve at all costs… casualties of the violent wages paid by all who were drafted to play in the last war to be revealed in this way as the figureheads have fallen after the fact of their utility has passed and so trust cannot be manufactured…’
out of Context;
‘in the hearts and minds of a people to hatch creatures of social perfection out of these egg-like nuclear families whose dysfunctions can be hidden by years of tension laid bare as nerve after nerve is further torn away by happenstance occurrences swirling like instinctual notions inside the cells set to detonate at any instant, a system like this dissolving from dangerous incisions as the reckless decisions travel boldly to the public surface suicidal venting made maximum history upon impact as we decide who lives and who dies so easily without regard for the human life it is caught wasted as fated by a system whose propaganda mantras advertised and televised to the extreme of content as the anonymous majority watches it all upon multiple channels… no wonder the bees are dying off at an alarming rate…’
out of Context;
‘these disastrous desires as a concentrated conscience bears the burden recalled of now as discipline, the magician’s wand as fisted phallic symbol waving ‘abracadabra’ all over those magical things creating offshoots with some unique signature partially aware of the service for which they are conceived as to the burden of waste placed upon the rest of a wasted negative age washed away by corrosive behaviors surging forward into the darkness to try understanding why it is there to begin with, but soon even these ideal goals are to be cast aside in the cold and brilliant analytic lights as senses…’
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…’