out of Context;
‘we see it everyday, pistol-whipped and nipple-fed, the everyday sheltered populace in their witty fashion apparel… if the groundhogs eat our flesh, sew the better seeds i say, and forget about the past with all its myriad functioning things… the better to make us all martyrs someday…’
out of Context;
‘we are never wholly bound by this crazed contrast of ideas made manifest, we are simply conjunctions responding to the tug and ebb of dirty words and dark thoughts, and sacrificing too much to the wasted and vapid years as men that we might try to boldly ‘cowboy-up’ as the retarded emulsifiers the male of the species ill-bent…’
out of Context;
‘obviously not everything i write is going to be a jewel, but it is the effort of working through what isn’t just meat and tissue that makes this exercise worthwhile, not every word stands alone…. because you cannot understand the story without reading every word….’
out of Context;
‘my skin crawls every single time i make a mistake, creating a vacuum in anticipation of the next mistake somewhere in the back of my mind, intimidated by my crap-abiding personality… a fever pitch of dissatisfaction, and where am i in all of this?…’
out of Context;
‘a wrought-iron pin stabbing through the fever-pitch brain as it melts the eyes in my head, the nerves inside are far too burned out to be repaired, or so it would seem from the insight out…’
out of Context;
‘the canvas desires other things to appease it, like the spilling of blood or the flowing of wine into gullets, these are the choices in the prices we have made our weights to bear… constantly on the lookout for the fruits of our suffering…’
out of Context;
‘there are few ways we can maintain a system as blankly lacking compassion as ours is now, the gross facade of the machine working totally for our benefit is the misnomer i think, but being unable to sustain the world we live in now with all of its conveniences is a confusing wall to hit hard…’
out of Context;
‘waving the demon thumb around at the strangers makes me wild and crazy, but the partner’s aid takes me back to introspection in dismay of my own demonic directives, the parade of flesh fears that the mind is the doorway in…’
“We are here among you as seekers of refuge from our present-your future-a time of worldwide famine, exhausted fuel supplies, terminal poverty-the end of the capitalistic experiment. Once we came to understand the simple truth that earth’s resources were limited, in fact soon to run out, the whole capitalistic illusion fell to pieces. Those of us who spoke this truth were denounced as heretics, as enemies of the prevailing economic faith. Like religious Dissenters of an earlier day…”
~Thomas Pynchon; american author and satirist.