out of Context;
‘sometimes i wish the emotions didn’t ride so close to the surface, just layers of the holographic barriers we project from ourselves, the core being sheds to expire with the goals of experiencing like all the rest of humanity… what does the spirit crave?…’
out of Context;
‘the rape, the rape of ourselves and the land, and this misery translates again and again… tearing the tainted thrust apocalypse into the wind, and savoring that drastic sigh, as all hell broke loose in fits at night… the mind an unsavory stew…’
Phone is ringing once again. That thing has gone off five times already. Don’t get all upset just because the fucking phone wasn’t picked up and the poor bastard on the other end didn’t feel like listening to how shitty your life is. He’s positive your life does suck worse than any have sucked in the history of human occupation on Earth. Of course, and this merits multiple sessions of whining on the talky-talk.
Get a hammer and destroy this cursed idol.
out of Context;
‘So then there stands the misanthrope… The womb is rusted shut, but learns much playing the ancient man’s games… Divide and conquer… One of the horsemen laughs in tone with these childish, messy antics… Messianic, manic and prolific….protean and malnutrious of mind…’
out of Context;
‘I shall set forth and acquire the right supplements to isolate from the state of reflection that weekend’s can achieve sometimes, but is oblivion the best moniker for this situation?… post-October, what are we left with for a fall season, and how does one cope with the pain inherent in the mysteries?… the unknown always presents the most interesting riddles to perceive…’
out of Context;
‘We only condemn ourselves when helping another of our own kind. Their burden and baggage becomes ours by default on our loans of attention made out in full interest of the situation as it transpires, but fuck the blasphemy of this other real thing that protrudes like a sore…’
tHere are strangenesses about in this lair…small surprises along the way to greater things…no focus will well lead someone across the blades with a disappointed air…the scraps of personal power that we give to other beings is astonishing to say the least…what obnoxious freaks are we to think we are the masters here?…the surgeon will cut with a certain precision to the incision, they have all done this before somewhere…the world is not our whore to play with so easily…what benefits the estranged soul who darts in and out of the centuries looking for bliss, is it possible to understand wholly from within?…it feels like a real shambles, but will always change without reason to the hard second…turnabout is fair play, or so they say…eye don’t believe in a way out…it is all obnoxious puppetry in the extreme…we are …
out of Context;
‘Not a cannibalism of consciousness, but preserving and savoring the meal of existence, and my eyes reveal a distracted nature buried just below…Not always a heavenly distraction, either, but more or less a nasty little thought that pries its way through the muck on the surface, digging its hooks into the flesh to metaphysically snack on the negative emotional supercharge…Those ghosts know how to tear at one’s mind, don’t they?…’
Tears of blood, fall from grace;
Scabbed wings from a hollow face;
Pain of heaven now flame in hell;
A wish to say I never fell
