out of Context;
‘we are more than a constrained belief system Here, we are more than the ants we might appear as from too far above in the unquantified mass contained in the atmosphere over our heads, and the cosmic spill to which we coincide with the rest of this synchronous behavior as the money falls where it may as banksters explode from the pressure underneath their suits… they have robbed us over and over again because this is a system built by the power and gain of opportunistic leaders attesting that they are the ones discriminated against in some seedy form of power play that pushes all the right people out of their jobs…’
out of Context;
‘the visions are too vague to show all the way, but powerful enough to leave an excited impression on those receptive to the same vision which further reinforces an idea of the reality into fruition, hanging from the ether as it awaits to be revealed and plucked down by materializing forces… the tree of life is this ethereal thing, and everything is alive within its bounds as the energy circulates all throughout to show that no motion comes to a complete stop, always choosing a different attitude to take when it appears to be no other direction is working… this is adaptation working out its kinks and bugs by natural selection of endeavor…’
out of Context;
‘the innocent are claimed by the ignorant in haste to cull the herd of its tame and unwanted swollen members… the fiends play outright under pious paradigm twist as the truth flies in retreat from this secular thing suckling the being’s spiritual energy out of a greedy lust for life, molesting belief until it molds its own untruth that is built up into a rationalized system as it then begins to establish rules and constrictions to prove and support this alternate reality until a jagged extension cuts up through the unspoken of barriers always at rest until the next one is ready to come in to make personal wishes as fulfilled as possible as long as you realize you always have the capability until you are dead again, but this molested untruth branches and breaks off…’
out of Context;
‘merely playing the roles they have used to receive what they wanted, even if that means the imminent destruction of another or the self as the victim or proposed martyr… harnessing the harmless farce as it is depressed, and it is a crummy life when you have no one to confide in, always in fear of judgment at every intersection… a certain amount of crosstown traffic, if you will, that makes confusion stronger than one might fare a guess at truth Here… a caption in timeless err… to breathe the err is to lose with grace and take your chances with care, there is never any time ever like the present presenting itself to the presenter as opportunity fits and favors the critical enslavers and of course not the artist…’
out of Context;
‘a dysfunctional lot to be thrown in with the other false gods trying to rub two nickels together to create change, loosely defined as the caged lunatics are set free then locked out to cull the herd that are left walking the streets too late at night though even night is no barrier to a real monster, but few ever get a chance to witness that atrocity up close without themselves being tragically snuffed out… we have homegrown film-born simulations of the actual thing, but the truth of the matter is always far stranger than the fiction interpreting the mixture in this place we are in, our lives becoming these entranced oblivious attempts at half-assery with a sophomore chivalry to boot it to the head instead of faking a mockery to the real live substance…’
out of Context;
‘is this the end of the trip that started even before our life and death in physicality, and where do we go from this place that we have convinced ourselves never ends?… we are sick to the cells with what we allow, and yet we allow more to satisfy that god spell woven over the rise of the masses to cover them, to heal with our poisonous medicine fresh from the process that makes sense out of the scientific mess in our midst… signals paint our faces in the darkened corner we place our rears to shut away the outside swirl as things might go hectic at a moments’ notice from where we casually steer, slightly off-kilter when thinking about the years behind me, and weighted by limp and heavy fears that were never my own…’
out of Context;
‘scaring the worshipful harangue of the blissful ascetic feeling justified in prayer, but who is to excuse all that remains of us there?… as though a superior god would care for every part of self and cell, as if a cell were a collection of roles to make each part work together at the same pace in an odd timing or competitive sway between authorities in compliance with any of the pre-described modes and functions for a profit-reaping endeavor deemed to be worthy of moving forward by the powers that be commanding in the current state of interpretation on the heavens and earth surrounding us all, and no being is ever left out of the cosmic scheming that goes on…’
out of Context;
‘lately, the ghosts have begun to transcribe their own works of fiction, but with no motive to get it published through the usual channels of dismissive corporate entities rejecting and interjecting those various stages of approval before it feels used and finished… a trial and tribulation in the variation of a vibrant situation as thoughts to be pasted on the board, the odd trance of immortality as special obtainable goal parallel with a need for money to render the peripheral things alive even through all the years, and we begin to draw and describe the energies that our guts may tell us is to blame for being tossed around in this insufferable storm of confusion that matures with today’s motions…’
out of Context;
‘keeping humanity in the dark is no solution for this paper-mache propaganda governments use to drywall over what is real outside of this incestral system of ‘kill or be killed’ mentality, overwhelmed with the war nerve that twitches like a trigger clicking in place to fire off the shots that figure into a ‘Juarez (read: war is) hell’ actuality of what we have Here today… eight murders a day, and still none the wiser for all the loss of life yet in the way, as the ‘Merikan monstar crawls through the sewers of policy to lobby for laws that restrict and disenchant the massive human machine that works on blood sweat and tears to build a world beyond fears and guilt and shame for years to come…’
out of Context;
‘like prowling leather-bound books in our gear and glossy threads, letting no one unworthy into this head that wears out terms by ritual turns as the world remains unsettled as yet, but the molten sphere underneath our feet burns through our literal-minded pages printed and typed on machines of electric fire and forgot by hands without thought… wandering clouded as warped systems of government attempt to control a mortal fate with far-voyaging fingers that parade as agents of change not hate as so many other systems have burnt themselves out blank before getting to this current paradigm shifting like tectonic plates at the well of the world…’