out of Context;
‘the slow means of moving along in life provided by the filtering process unique to each individual interpretation, the path reinforces itself as the being travels along that channel of energy, and it does take longer than expected when the mind allows so much from the outside a residence inside the skull…’
out of Context;
‘dropping the eyes into the windows of the soul, where does the spirit jump out and play, but my thoughts always seem to make haste for the mechanical pulse inside of things like you or me… the dragging negative anchors…’
out of Context;
‘some casual menacing man that describes himself with such a candid valor, but mysteriously attempts to hide his brain from the depraved, with their lunatic swastika fringe embedded to spin… to declare the conservative win…’
out of Context;
‘where the rest have become friends, we have become enemies, but only in haste do we strike that turning page that neither of us tends to be on together… the stormy weather hits the boards with pleasure stinging as the anger and insults stack higher and higher…’
out of Context;
‘decisive devices carry out the lords of destruction, I find myself cringing with my fists out in front, and the sudden impulse to strike out… lashing only against the sides of hell, the silence felt so deeply when all else might be alright in some way, but cannot be…’
out of Context;
‘plodding with what condemned fortitude that only a hell-fire furnace can create… we summon the demons that taint our dark sideways glances, lacking any real forethought to the unmentionables, and dirtying those unclean and defective wholes…’
out of Context;
‘where are words when we leave nothing to be said later on?… the drifting whispers of ghosts as they travel through the murky tainted guts of a systemic infection pushing past boundaries empty of the right sense of certainty… the cataclysmic vibe that shoots from loads of minds, as the negative thrust revives its diatribe, wealth for the poorest vital kind of diseased humanity…’
original lyrics by Aaron Hensley
excerpt; “‘Cause there’s a battle outside
and there’s no place to hide
no escape from the violence malevolent…”
so Here we are yet again, my tramps and dears alike, the day of days. friday the 13th and no Voorhees in sight. taking my place in the human race without being shy about it, and without the definite affinity with melting objects. the brain drains the pan dry, stepping out into the light, and the flickering display that consciousness has made me imperatively aware of first hand. what is luck, eh?… unlucky in life, unlucky in nearly every other aspect of living, but why the urge to move anyway? sometimes the motion kills remains of aches and seething hatreds that bury themselves under the skin, to stay active makes the blood flow into those warm places. a crutch for the unwary perhaps, but always with the sophisticated tone in ambivalence for reality working towards a progressive end, consistent …
but it is my highway the highway men the highway brood the highway stream the highway hypnotism mocking adjustments to mirrors and seats. of course you’ll be uncomfortable. it’s summer time on the coast and your AC sucks the gas out. alternate. take in the view. show the road you knew what you knew.