out of Context;
‘to adapt to the raging inferno within our hearts which often contradict our minds and a logical thrust into reasoning our situation out amongst the other cattle charged to get slaughtered at random by some of a villainous underclass that create this disease we have all settled upon as the wager to meet as a greater good this civilized destination filled to the brim with all cravens and cowards as well as the best of us, but projected by and through this police state of deflection once the truth-seekers have come sniffing around is intimidation through loud insults and serious cruelty gone mainstream evident reflection of an everyday reality as the streets cloud with massive propulsions of people to protest the atrocious substance our system is addicted to…’
out of Context;
‘truth from behind the ears that hear only a bullshit to be purged once we get sick of it taking up the real estate in our heads between those ears infested with then curious and insecure as thumbless and trying to work the gripping machines to achieve removing the prize from the bottom of a trivial task into my cache of treasured things, left stored like a severed heart taken away to relieve the pain of love and loss but transmogrified into mind obtuse in frustration and confusion as we shape art into a new form of compassion by acknowledging the artist within all of us…’
out of Context;
‘trying to stay sensitive to the situation we have created collectively in this preservation of information reaching back along the living gears of the cosmos to meet Here… as repetition drives competition deeper into the wounds of culture like salt to assault in the fears and moods of the affected whose demons philter the essence of humanity on outward further into space as a dimension to hold all this stray effluvium before it fades away into clouds of mote and dust as chips on shoulders in burdensome memories of horrid trips taken in this flesh to live these lifetimes under the swaying hand of death as a release on life as yet, but i do say things which others doubt while keeping busy sorting out superstition from this reasoned smoothing…’
“Truth made you a traitor as it often does in a time of scoundrels.”
~ Lillian Hellman; american dramatist and screenwriter.
out of Context;
’embrace an open mind in which to view things by a variable light… as it seems to me enlightenment is what we are all striving to shoot for through our dreams though not in a truly ideal civilization where today a drama of society gathers like a sinister momentum Now summoned up by political ticks and distorted by facial twitches with their cheap false politeness draining the guts out of this nation of saps dripping out purged energies and the victimized citizens whose consumerism changes them into the same vicious predators as the victors who pillage and conquer, we laugh at the jokes that are made in the expensive selling of others as sense of the objective this way a struggling and suffering that leaves us rude as we adjust our perspective filters to fit…’
out of Context;
‘fearful suspension in a dimension of disbelief we barely perceive not able to crawl out from underneath displaced by our fates in Here chasing cosmic debris like thoughts into words remaining unseen until utilized properly, a series of disdainful measures taken against humanity throughout all the ages amassing like a wall of bricks and blocks placed ahead of us in our race to a finishing end alongside those paths we have been prevented from taking to circumvent these disasters in an imperfect heaven of monitored creatures as living beings though dissected once dead to scrape the genes from the inside of the head to study the many parts of this social anatomy…’
out of Context;
‘as holier than thou to possess these instincts as well as these experiences which bias and offend becoming catalyst to the social drama reset to start again whether a daytime epic that fuses a working life inside of a contingent myth as lengths of linear time frame the mind striving to advance beyond these oft-contemptible ages as an immortality craved by those oblivious eyes and devout minds of a paranoid being snuffed out at a moment’s peace as a preparation for the end as penultimate goal to surviving this cosmic shank in the spine used as a demon logic of an imperial swine song sung along to with ignorant obnoxious wails…’
out of Context;
‘as smoking can be one of those outcast habits taken for granted Here in this day and age as decay and slave wages leading the dreams of another day astray addicted to a pain as a need that will not relent for anything but curious for the new as it estranges the old as popular intrusive trends move through societies like sickness trying in vain to redeem those qualities thought lost or useless and toxic as a cosmic recycling program denoted by sages passed, out and over with the immortal of vernacular in words become as coins dripping from the golden lips of the goosed flesh of national debt creating a tension in our midst with heads full of ideas and no one to listen without the filter of a judgment to really listen…’
the self-fulfilling prophesies triggering a constricted air hole through which to breathe in the tiny bits and bytes of informative fuel that can inspire us to greater feats of whose foibles are tracked in consistent lock and step all throughout our cycles on this planet making a sub-optimal choice for our own reasons as seasoned by our individual attitudes and perspective suspects subjective in this a rat race made misery to quell curiosity that humans naturally feel in spite of the programming used to seal us inside, to determine a fate for ourselves when the weight of the world sits upon our shoulders each together though apart as clockwork cogs barely cognizant of the system surrounding us working a motivational motor of mojo on our parts through the demi-semi-quasi-waiving sounds that seem to be a stewing throughout the cosmos …
“All relationships change the brain – but most important are the intimate bonds that foster or fail us, altering the delicate circuits that shape memories, emotions and that ultimate souvenir, the self.”
~ Diane Ackerman; american author, poet and naturalist.