he knows what he’s missing and it ain’t that much.
go along with everybody else like the others do.
he’s made his opinion known about that and it hasn’t changed. he holds back watching and waiting. nothing to be in such a hurry about. turn it on and turn it off.
practice makes perfection. he is perfectly mad as he has been trained to be. perfectly imperfect. someone has to be. randomly chosen from a cast of thousands if not more – cast of millions, billions. more coffee. they tell us we’re running out – of everything. wishful thinking. the dead earth.
the clown comes home from the doctor’s. he’s doing more or less ok. a bowl of cereal. a tooth comes out. hooray. but it’s the wrong one. not the jagged edged one scraping irritating his tongue making it painful to chew anything. oh well.
we don’t need to pay attention to nobody. we are enthralled by ourselves. gazorbnik. where shadows meet the night with a fright suddenly beginning to realize we are not alone. who have we become? who are we to become still? still over our once upon a time graves in some romantic journey to nowhere down by the river with a jug of kool-aid for the crew who worked so hard getting us here to this point of our…???
not able to keep up with the crowd. why would we? there is something strange about them we don’t quite know what. but it’s strange familiar. falling asleep at the wheel to this beat up battleship from some yesterday war. can you imagine?
cinnamon flavored chewing stick in his mouth the clown typing not p0em as some may have figured out by now it’s the way it’s always been for those experiencing in linear time what it’s all about as far as they know.
initial here, here, and here.
you are now the proud owner of nothing. enjoy the view.
mind going going gone bang-a-gong.
manipulation of psychic input. it’s like a game to the child god mind – and only that. we learn every day in every way.
born of the earth and sky of the anti-verse polarity shifted backwards thing. positive for negative, negative for positive. how do we cope with our morality and judgment reversed? or are we just used to it and think it’s “normal” like we do now. what tricks we can think up to fool ourselves to believe.
pet the kitty. oh no!
what’s with the chicken?
meaningless references to those who weren’t there where or when whirling twirling among the burning flags up on the hill through the colored smoke with great temptations among us to feed on each other’s souls and whatnot.
fat rats in the park. watch out. they’re coming to get us.
time is $$$ – an invention to enslave us.
but if it could be any other way it would be, yes?
we think so, though the clown isn’t so sure.
the clown isn’t sure about anything. it’s all mystery to him. perhaps such as it should be.
just do your job. we’ll take care of the rest. we’re always the best. put us to the test.
as many of you might know not p0em is an expression of our theory of everything which seems to maybe have gone down the drain or up the chimney or out the window or something like that as it is supposed to perhaps – or not. we don’t particularly know nor care sideways to all understanding forthcoming from the lord most high higher highest above all creation where it belongs according to multiple theories we mortal humans have made up outta make believe and sprinklings of fairy dust and eye of newt.
as many of you might know the aliens are landing. hup-2-3-4. are they our friends? do we need to fight them? what is our fate from here now? are we the only ones?
the clown feels strangely strange to himself as if his body is compartmentalized into certain functions of individualogical understanding. x is a function of it. x is unknown variable to it. undiscovered. perhaps undiscoverable. at this location of spacetime we do not know. as we move onward to further other locations of spacetime perhaps we will know. wanna bet?
prisoners of our own device – haha.
buckle up. enjoy the ride. the clown sometimes wishes he had (done so, but then he remembers…).
prisoners of our own excuses we try to give to ourselves like tricks of the trade underscored by good intentions on a stick.
but where does yesterday go? how near or how far? is it spacetime or some other coordinate system? how many coordinate systems are there? how many or few dimensions do they have? is there a minimum? is it 0? is it it? is it x? all possibilities with whatever probabilities to come and go into out of existence as if that is the final answer to an unspoken question. is it? we can never be so sure, can we?
whatever the fuck.
it’s medication time!
pet the kitty time too.
so busy with the day moment by moment.
reality and unreality coming together in a dream.
a bagel with cream cheese and a ginger ale.
people with illusions of being shaman gurus and such for the praise of others.
we mix everything up for the benefit of their confusion. if they cannot figure us out beyond their perceived impressions of us then what good are they? there have been a few but not many. they tell us we do not know ourselves. ha – such an easy thing to say when one is at a loss for words otherwise.
we have only one shaman guru, guru jeff. and who we had to kill him in his sleep for reasons only we might imagine what for.
we need no one else. we are looking for no one else. we have found ourselves, and we are lost it would seem. but that’s ok. who actually knows where the fuck they are? let them announce it to the world. we can’t even decide if the earth is round or flat that we all might agree on. fuck authority. let us each decide for ourselves.
but all the $$$ in the world is betting on everything being a certain way. it’s way too late to change without everything collapsing in on itself which may be happening anyway for lack of faith. but everything changes one way or another. creating maintaining destroying, as it should be.
let’s all go around and around till we’re dizzy and fall off. who would notice we are missing? a few perhaps. those to who we owe $$$ would come looking. sending us letters that are never returned.
would we be free? maybe as free as we wanna be. can everyone wake up at once? what would happen?
screaming kids riding on wheels. a sunny afternoon. too hot for the clown who will wait for a cooler evening to walk around the park as he pleases.
and everything according to someone is wrong. too much of this, not enough of that, and such.
is agreement necessary? if not then toleration is necessary. or war.
what’s wrong with war? are there any innocent victims? what is an innocent victim?
death or worse comes easy in this world. much easier than $$$. $$$ is precious, life/death not so much. this based on our observations. we observe the world and report to the committee via not p0em. who knows what might be true or not?
the iffy dimensions beyond spacetime we supposedly exist in otherwise than here now. spacetime is screwy. we’re screwy along with it.
but don’t worry your pretty head about it. we get along – most of us, sorta. if not, oh well.
it’s the same everywhere all the time. no excuses. no one cares much anyway. they are following the $$$ hoping to cash in on it for themselves. convert it into sex and drugs and fast cars everyone dreams about in their dreams.