out of Context;
‘fuck the thirteenth as it all seems to stem from somewhere planted deeply from a prehistoric realization of superstition, and people don’t seem to be allowed to recover from mistakes that their ancestors molested into reality, which means that somehow disgrace must be overcome whether by the family or the individual who takes it upon themselves to invest in some manner of change… to displace the unending karma that deeply afflicts us, deflects us from growing into an ‘autonomocracy’ that requires independent streams of thinking unlike this present day new modern flux that fakes a respect for anything besides raw survival and success…’
out of Context;
‘the parts of us teaching the rest how to conform to this bizarre living system our consciousness is housed within, and even our consciousness is made up of so many disparate pieces themselves, the mysteries each stuff their requisites into our minds as given knowledge for a specific purpose… or at least this is how it may seem… the parts and particles of the majority of traits always in the air and always in debate, this world challenges the ideas by making them each prove themselves through the unique facets of the truth they display…’
out of Context;
‘we allow ourselves to be pushed down out of false courtesy and excuses made in favor the ones to whom it has been revealed certain opportunities that come with a price, but how do they realize the repercussions of their actions until it is too late to change the pathways and circuits that store and replay the ornate works pulled from this primordial repository time and again as civilization worms its way into taking control too seriously, wherein which another collapse occurs to reset this devastating quality that humanity has cultivated in its own backyard… quite an interesting twist in the oblivious states of awareness that we all seem willing to participate in with others as though it were some kind of petty game to play until the end…’
out of Context;
‘we have been the poor ones overthrown from our own government, and it is we who fault for the upkeep in a weak fundamental richness or clarity, seeking the only known truths in the material verse and verbal stroke of luck in a torrid sphere of fakers and fools… at least three chords is not impossible to follow when utilizing a steady beat that just requires energy, and you are really in business because then all you need are some screamed lyrics or chants, you can either challenge them through atonal murk or through the hardest hooks you can find… the blasphemy of submitting to the corporate world, i.e. learning you have finally sold out…’
out of Context;
‘it may seem unreal an idea to some, but those are mainly the intellectual folks who “know” otherwise or the right way to go about things in this world, your basic person is very literally lead and fed by a safety net system that drives us to the ends of the earth for further grotesque establishment of a sheltered environment in which to raise the youth in comfort and without ideas of harm perverting their minds… our concepts of innocence lost realized in fear, and much like the protagonist who becomes the “golden ass”, we all have this bizarre derivative of innocent curiosity twisted into the insatiable desire and unrelenting curiosity to see and understand magic or the real mystery of active reality…’
out of Context;
‘the beast as we have become straight from the vaginal canal to the surface world in a matter of hours or days depending upon many factors on delivering the child into the world properly, following rules of conduct between mates and extended families in the time period that fuses us into the chance of materialized reality, and from there it is up to the forces around us as well as the resilience we are born with to either SINK or SWIM in the other concentric realities already forged by those who think they know what they are doing…’
out of Context;
‘to confuse and access a very different alignment of facts as food for the digestion of real parts to translate into the fake or imaginary realms implanted for growth like a seed… we spent the previous week in odd anticipation of the event even though it was unconfirmed whether we were to meet the band after the show or not, and it seems that wristbands make the idiots stand out more for their love of gloom-infused darkly poetic music when fellow gathered gothic twats vie for a spot on the coveted ‘meet-and-greet’ line-up, where the lead singer of the group was quoted saying, “…10 minutes. no bullshitting, no stories…”…’
out of Context;
‘dressing up in an isolated and conservative town, if that manner is relative more so to a Victorian appeal as opposed to an athletic or consumer static visage of hypocrisy… top hat and tails are what make the outfit, and dressing down is necessary to blend in with the micro-minded officiators of the general trends among all of these so-called real people… they hate us just as we hate them…’
out of Context;
‘we are born into a world where a singular vision and sense of the world are found at opposite ends of the substantial spectrum, as the material world caves in to build itself up into a real impulse of carnation and creation, and it relies upon our never-ending urge to procreate and populate to use us as the great weapon to end an era of misery and mayhem… we feel like a cure needs to be realized to gain footing equal to the landslide we are surfing upon toward the bottom of this queer suspension of disbelief, but maybe if we keep hoping and praying, this will enlighten us all with proof of what we need to drive us…’
out of Context;
‘the moronic pseudo-intellectual, totally ineffectual in general, has triumphed over the multitudes on the twin coasts of shared civilization… the filmstrips from what feels like centuries ago have filtered through some of the eldest generations of us to formulate the consistent patterns that underlay the surface exterior whose reflection dexterously evades certain definition, and though many stare open-mouthed at the wonder that prevails in this now awe inspired whirlwind catastrophe showing us our own distracted message on repeat, point where was there ever a point any more?…’