out of Context;
‘the senses can overwhelm the user, creating a need in the resident to get free, but not always in a pleasant way depending upon the person who chooses to leave. abuse of the reason to live is no means to destruction, just more reason to wonder what the hell is going on within the mental illness of the capitalist pigs ruling over the ruling party no matter what.’
out of Context;
‘to surge ahead is the greatest wealth that the electric soul can provide, and potential becomes kinetic so easily, thoughts become the next new structure to dismantle at some point. humor allows for this balance to thrive within the most degrading and deranged circumstances. the structures function through their internal dichotomies, and this altogether makes the understanding of the knowledge so more potent.’
a stream of consciousness tale of drugs and the mind-bending situations that go along with their indifferent motions.
styles and fads are the conditioning that surrounds our occasional instances requiring our presences in forms channelling instinct into the furnace, like some purifying extinction process that needs to be, and the reborn thing is the product in waiting. For some individuals, it is even like a baby or child in waiting, and their wombs are ready to indulge in the experience of procreation.
the wall was built to protect the advantages that others kept to themselves…the rot was more of a side effect than anything else…the excitation was diverting distraction’s edge…blunting the blade, as it were…laughter fills the air with the knife in one hand, and a reasonable doubt within another grip…the alibi fell short, and my friends feel the pressure…the intestinal fortitude scared my sensibilities…the stylized rhythm filtered through the air, the particles and the space betwixt those, but came to settle further into the ear of the madman…the altars are a swollen place…the fusions losing all form…the suckers have rowed ashore for ages since…the functions lost tales long ago…forgotten…turned into those short phrase situations…the ones where a dull silence pervades the sickness, greasy and matted over the conversations they speak of in the dimly-lit rooms…hair flattened and dense in the …
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…’
out of Context;
‘the growth became a cancer of intelligence, the single-minded instead of the single-celled organism, and began a plague of toxic shedding of darker pieces of swirling shards of self.’
…the creature, at a thought’s notice, becomes clearly aware of the retarded common denominator inherent inside these dichotomous situations…