out of Context;
‘this is all the trash that needs to be sorted out properly in order for the patterns to be changed with a solid foundation in reality instead utter lack of respect for anyone else that could possibly grow to enjoy my company, you need to leave me without this emotional grip like a collection of bad memeories hanging around long enough to jinx the whole relationship i have with my well-being, and what little sanity remains with the others around me… the corrupt hands of my negative side hangs limp in the air, the living shadow that has no reason to stall for more time Here, and this is because it is not wanted where living things dare… it has become a bomb instead of carrot held over the head to lead a crusade…’
out of Context;
‘only gods cull their flock to take some and leave the rest to learn greater lessons, those left are treasured by pillaging machine that society becomes in a blank and static age, but the rape of the earth and its resources leaves many of us the villainous culprits by default… so take out all the loans you can, and smoke them while you have got them, maybe at least then those left can finally reset this terrible situation… gloat the bloated corpse with its painted disgraceful ways, sitting in that funeral home basement waiting to be shown like a dead debutante in the grim glory of them who have something left to live for, and as a reminder of what we have yet to escape from now… the lesson of mortality…’
out of Context;
‘the mortal stab into flesh that wounds and betrays the human urge to die when this rotten thing plays games against righteous change, that familiar system we have grown to love to hate as the blame wears on, and the shallow things still roam the earth like twisted and disguised and disgusted creatures that try to control life even as life contradicts their ways… sometimes this all reaches far too deep to leave alone into that pit of fears called ‘gun’, where virtual motive and actual motive are conjoined as twin energies released from inside this lurching brain transistor as the signals reach the dissected pace made to move through the skin encasing so thinly this virtual plane of reality…’
out of Context;
‘i do write as though my freedom were compromised on all levels but this one portal at my fingertips, there are shameless attempts to provoke a reaction from any kind of audience that will make the effort to read my work, and i have heard from close sources that some of my best “work” consists of these momentary diatribes of non-fiction… sometimes you might call it ‘prosetry’ in a way of containing the contradiction in action, the mind boils fervent energy like water in a kettle, and what leaks from the interaction of living substance is a caustic expression of what it takes to be real Here… these are the distracting qualities of the human experience…’
out of Context;
‘method giving rise to the madness in the streets, as the corrupted take their force and intent into the halls of authority, and throwing money at the raw and unyielding problems fermenting among the people outside… the pattern of solution too random to actively find, frustration met by so many who push through the gristle of intellectual and emotional persistence, but yet the state of persistence drives us forward through the dirt and mud as we cannot bring relief to our own detriment Here… the smaller blood-suckers will always appear in the tiny forms to incarnate on this planet, but channeled through the flow of energies allows the creature to access higher levels of awareness, eventually culminating in the birth into a human vessel to wade around in this living sea of beings…’
out of Context;
‘distracting ourselves with menial displeasures, goddamn the arch-nemesis of the good people, and the uttered disgraces at the truly fundamental foundations forged under false impressions… what starts as an experiment in freedom, which some willing wager never was the original agenda of the forefathers, disintegrates and becomes this fetid and foul smelling killing joke that crushes the spirit of the people that fall hypnotically under sway of its stink… thinking that the disaffected will be repelled by goodwill and hopeful crusades alone is unacceptable…’
out of Context;
‘but even this appearance is illusory because the particles and strings and every other theory on the table now is in the state of almost tangible evidence, the ghost in the system has almost emerged like a phoenix from the flames, and we cannot stop even though on some level we find ourselves seriously impaired and without humane guidance right at this point Here and now… still searching and waiting and watching the atmosphere for signs of stress in the coming events, the sky is falling like hammers on anvils, but no one cares any more about the immediacy of the real as the idolatry of the future…’
out of Context;
‘for the greater purpose of understanding the work as well, finding it necessary to track the challenges as well as the ideas in order to gradually learn what to do what feels right… the last of the seven day struggle is basically a freedom-to-relish period in the artistic vision, perhaps relaxing with more magical rites in chaos or playing along to the stereo, but there is no limit to what experimental charge can be conceived… this leaves the system open to any definition…’
out of Context;
‘relinquishing humanity for the opinion of profit at the price of indentured obligation… the mainstream mysticism of humanity is blistered and purged of real genuine courtesy, and this is why we lose respect for our ancestors and nature altogether, this is a dim pre-apocalypse mood i have catered to in making the choice to see the negative strings sometimes more than any others in relation to making things work… seated in a biased basis of hypnotic manipulations and gyrations…’
out of Context;
‘pulled around by the strings connecting us to our respective anchors Here, the respected ancestors that won’t let go of the potential energy that allows us movement in this fiercely contested field of visions… we might know not what we do sometimes…’