“What a chimera then is man! What a novelty, what a monster, what a chaos, what a contradiction, what a prodigy! judge of all things, feeble earthworm, repository of truth, sewer of uncertainty and error, the glory and the scum of the universe.”
~ Blaise Pascal; french mathematician, physicist, inventor, writer and philosopher.
out of Context;
‘those inconsistencies that riddle our system with pain and suffering, but even in the concrete of care-taking what gives way to the decay and lack of improvement even if no one is devoted to making things better as though changing this by anything other than a humble mindfulness can distract from identifying with a confident version of the Self that is able to act and be responsible when needed as weeded out from the resting wicked Here in a kind of purge that keeps the outsiders on the fringe that bursts loose from the seams making it more madness than we ever could need… keeping oriented with the ticking away of clocks into oblivion as time is something easily referred to by the upper management whose presence is not ever seen only felt…’
out of Context;
‘in revolutions of shameless surprise trying to wield opportunity like a hot knife to easily cut the butter of this fatty stubborn resolve that puts us at odds with ourselves much easier than with those narrowed sights we perceive being the reality in this case the burning window to the soul as hoop aflame to leap through forced when it seems that we cannot be the ones required to summon the courage to confront our fears as much the perceived flaw a shedding of tears is considered bad form or rude manners even though it is a catharsis for those so cryptic emotions… that we can be assured of anything is wrong and always is ending up fueling that sacred fire that is our divine being in the various forms of not only gods and monsters within…’
out of Context;
‘the radical consonants constant throughout revolution as it evolves to become something more than a caricature of society whose intent and content have been welded and looped madly together selective and with deliberate motion to inflict a particular notion upon these wary people as a framework for puppetry raised with guttural symbols to places of power, and used as figureheads for the authority speaking in harsh voices forcing bodies to move in the directional options given them as though any children could possibly learn from these proxies as mocking the real debate of issues necessary to confront the heart of many speeches forming the basis for all of our theories and argument…’
out of Context;
‘the words are used to condemn as reflect what we see inside of other souls our cells as soul are power that is scared by vulnerability being defensive at any and all costs to protect that only inner child as hidden as it is rambunctious and juvenile fighting and resisting both tooth and nail at the stolid solid sold-out adult as an authority to indoctrinate the youth through a charming swoon as call and response to the troops, it is this way that the novelty breaks out of previous molds conforming us to what we are told in a style that is reminiscent upon the term ‘learned helplessness’ that you could say drives us to herd as like single-minded the pack of cattle squished together and crowded mewling in panic…’
out of Context;
‘for oneself much like any a modern magick is formulated to pull those blinders off our senses to clear the lenses of their obstruction as they dispose of our ability to move fluidly through in this ‘maithunam dravyam’ as the unrefined feel from an intercourse we as multiple parties share twined together either through intimacy or the relationships to each other that sustains and gives us some purpose to defend, but not to the extent then that lessons remain carved onto our foreheads as an external reminder hazing us in the present day no matter how the modern accessibility dreams between soul and functional as when that surging hot thrust of sexual play occurs momentarily that has only seemed to inhabit our fantasy lands until Now when we are out defending the castle or whatever it is…’
out of Context;
‘values set forth by revered ancestors… now dead gone far beyond the altered states of perception that we adore in this kingdom of the bored so jammed as a unit together into a realm of pure ennui or indifference filled with discontents who honor no authorities offering very few items of solace when confronted with this stagnation that brews and ferments mood as though the likeliest of suspects affected by this off-kilter synchronization managed by hosts and those parasitical fools that feed from off their chosen suscept when found…’
out of Context;
‘sorting saints who hang back unseen tinted darker than they first seem when traits get handed down to those who require them in an engaging of the system that files us down to the barest details, but we are currently the beings for whom this adventure was made whether as serpent attempting to change the universe or as damsel in distress pushed to the edges of sanity by the forces that push this wily and manipulative by genial polite society hiding within the dirty edges of nonsense spinning us in some directions we ought not take too lightly as we go to fight the enemy…’
out of Context;
‘unwary as the deep pool swallows the naive or ignorant with equal discrimination, but in this digital binary crypt we have found many avatars and solutions to solidify our place in this cosmos of dust and dusky horizons as closing eyes upon our current era which feels kind of uncertain even though there are many motives pushing from within as well as outside realizing that pressure comes through the tension created and manipulated by the least humane of our human beings Here having chosen loose and fast rules of recklessness to the detriment of all other beings involved or Here in the periphery… so we flip the script of whatever it is as written laws or otherwise whether the trials or tribulations of life and debt…’
“My dad told me that no one could ever make it as a writer, that my chances were equivalent to winning the lottery – which was good for me, because I like to have something to prove.”
~ Billy Martin “Poppy Z. Brite”; american author.