the whim discriminates underneath a doubtless calm.

part 52


nowhere man.
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.

? o’clock.
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.
|departure #3|:

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.

so what?


an explanation of what?

part 50

Fascinating Grey Legged Cheap Small Sofa Patterned Cushion

the visiting nurse comes and goes. the clown is doing ok. onward and upward. he lifts the blinds to a sunny hot afternoon. he’ll wait for the cooler evening for a possible walk with his oxygen tank.
mac and cheese, and ginger ale.
the crimes against the people are many, but that has little to do with our theory of everything, maybe. or maybe that’s the russians. the tv informs us that the russians have everything to do with everything. we choose to believe or not believe. simple.
we believe in 0. we happen to believe in 0 being central to our theory. it is the nutshell of everything. /// but 0 represents an impossibility. there can be no such thing. or could there be? we don’t know at this point.
but 0 holds a place as if it does actually represent something – like 0 pigs. how many pigs? 0. there should be pigs but there is not.
so nuts to that.
do we really have any idea what we’re going on about anymore? it’s doubtful. but who else does? or is it all noise? that’s a possibility. a scrambled up buncha noise broadcast into outer space like anyone will understand it – not. the whole world talking at once.
so, that’s not it at all. is anything it? yes, actually anything is it as it is anything. it is what anything in question is in and of itself. it is really it. it is best as being itself. no other thing can be what it is, and in many cases would not wanna be. it is it. e pluribus unum.
there is no real point in anything being it. everything is fine by itself. but it adds a certain dimension to everything it does not possess on its own. it is a neutral universal pronoun. it can be applied to anything. yet it changes nothing about anything neither adding more nor subtracting less.
come on, it’s such a joy.
it is the best it can be – the ultimate. real top shelf groove thing. but this can become confusing as the best it can be is sometimes the worst depending on what is being described. the best of the worst and all that. now fly away… become… ?

could have died 1001 zillion times, but didn’t. fate is strange. each time against the odds in our favor like falling stars. but just like everybody else no matter what a rebel you think you are – come out, come out.
death by police.
where’s your utopia now? no place? hahaha – welcome to kansas, baby.

how can people be so stupid as those people?
but are we not them?
rock in pocket.
rockets to mars.
living in a magick haunted forest of dreams. of course good dreams and evil dreams. it’s groovy either way we experience it being it. and remember, it is it.
it’s medication time!

it is everything but everything isn’t necessarily it. unless we got that part of our theory of everything backwards which wouldn’t surprise us if so.
who eats just three (3) cookies?
not the clown.
each and every thing is it.
that seems more correct than before.

is it redundant and useless? of course it is.
is it god? ditto.
it is all that is real and imagined in all its contradictory forms of expression.
everybody waiting for that good time to happen but it’s probably happening someplace else by now, eh?
it’s never where we are. we are not it. we’ve figured out that much.
but it is true that it itself is also not it – not itself. this is becuz not it is something to be – and/or not be. being and not being is the same to it.
but few care about any of that – just the ultra-elite whose time may have come and gone. oh well.
the project is still on course though as it always has been and will be. the object of the project is the project. that is all.
make them work. keep them busy. creating maintaining destroying. pursuing happiness which is never attained. that is the end of everything if it ever is attained.
there cannot be happiness for everyone. some people will suffer. no one knows this like the people of omelas, while others walk away.

it is not a resolution to anything but further questions. ours is a philosophy of questions, mostly cuz we are too ignorant to know the answers, but also cuz we do not believe in answers when we do know what they are supposed to be according to others who do believe in them who get things done instead of sitting around thinking all day like us useless lay abouts.
but we have always been like they have always been – the workers and the bums. too much fun for everyone once we know our place in the scheme of things as they are not as we wish them to be. that’s the 1st lesson that should be learned. $$$ makes everything go around. no doubt about that. is $$$ it? many would think so but $$$ itself is not it. but what can $$$ buy which is it to some and not it to others and so on and on.

to know enlightenment, not just to know of it – guru jeff.
yes, maybe so – but all is pretend nonsense anyway. confusion is the correct response, as is $$$ equally correct.
everyone knows this is true but many are in denial.
cracking it up.
counting it down.
ready to go?
let’s go.

how to walk among the people without them taking notice, except those in the know about nothing – 0. every day is risky business. every moment could be the end.
your greatest fears are buried within your own imagination – guru jeff.
that’s how solipsism works.
think about it.
or not.
cereal killer roaming the town at night. jesus, what an idiot. everything was programmed to receive instructions. everything was an elaborate experimental hoax. it’s the only way it makes sense. it is it makes sense as well but perhaps too simple. the clown wishes he knew what to choose. but if he knew then it wouldn’t be free will (if there is such a thing). nope. some people are just natural born moochers. that’s the way of it. shave 1/2 your head. grow long dangling dreads on the other side. mark this day as a day of dope and hope.
good idea.
to live in a world where these things are possible as being real not just imagining them. but it’s not to be – never never.

clever pumpkins lined up all in a row. soon they won’t seem that smart as it’s off with their heads.
a case for predetermination such that theoretically a logical machine could predict everything. so it would know everything and be omniscient which is a quality we give only to god. also could it predict everything really when so many things and events are not known specifically yes or no? it would be an entangled tangling mess.
and what would it mean if so or not? clearly this is nonsense. ignore it. put it away hidden from view. it’s no good to us and our plans for success we are brewing. everything measured in success or not. watch the show. you’ll bust a gut level reaction to the inane proceedings of those who don’t give a damn.
and there’s coffee and ginger snaps and yogurt and a banana. all delivered to the door by dutiful beautiful workers of which the clown was once one. then he got smart. he quit. went to work for the state. all hail.

a generation of victims on the brink of disaster. how does anything work? who can remember? they didn’t teach us in school but useless information about nothing till our brains fell out on the floor and crawled away out the door. now there’s nothing to do but watch tv about shows about the extermination of plankton and such.
how did we get here? whose idea was this? we don’t know but everyone has their speculations about evil overlords of some kind. wake up, they tell us. wake up!
guru jeff laughs and says, i told you so. and we have to admit he’s right though we don’t want to.

crazy stuff going on singing a song to the moon so soon though it’s irrelevant to what’s going on which is the cities burning with living life of people celebrating themselves and each other while the clown cleans his glasses so he might see it more clearly and perhaps understand what’s happening though he doubts he will cuz that’s the kinda clown he is – honk honk.
clowns for buddha.
correct everything. everything correct. and we fail to make it once again as many times before. yes, it is our fault to more or less extent though this is not our world but some strange place we have been thrown into to survive by whatever means we might find to apply to the situation. some are born into it while some are born out of it. fate takes a turn turning the wheels beyond our control except to hope to choose the correct way to get us through. we often are wrong as we are told by the wise guys with all the answers.
but who’s paying attention? are we? do we know anything by now? what we know will fit in the palm of our hand with room to move.

the secrets are out. they’ve done their tricks to keep us under control of a ruling elite all this time for those who mastered them. the circus is folding up and leaving town. those who were in on it are laughing now and laughing last save for ourselves who have become the dream.
the intrigue of it all. is it necessary? are we to be judged for our ignorance? we suppose so though find it hard to believe in anything as cruel as that except it’s written in fine print in the rules.
we should have tried to join the game to win or lose. we tried to stay out of it but were unfortunately unable to do so and suffered the consequences as such.
now we are the fools – hahaha.

everything is in order. the people lined up to obey. the project is being fulfilled ongoing continuously despite rumors of its demise.
there is nothing else to report though we will babble on about something or another as does most everyone making no sense whatsoever to the overall schemes.
everybody worried about the players on the stage and not about those who back them so much so. oh well. life goes on and on with and without us. little tiny revelations for the simple minds.
enlightened elitist frauds thinking they are it. no one is it. how can we be? it is it.

why can’t the flower escape inside the wasteful effort?

part 48 (3)


the deep taste of coffee as morning sun comes in the window.
it’s medication time!
we are free. free as we wanna be. to be free from our dependency on those who can no longer be trusted if they ever could be. blanket negation of everything is the hip way to be without thinking about nothing.
a new higher perspective is needed to be inserted within us that we might fly to higher heights of awareness above beyond the realm of gods or something like that where when we can always be dreaming in a dream for all we know about whatever reality we are within and is within us.
reality is whatever we call it. it is as it is perceived as it appears, even if it is not. what ultimately is anything disappearing into oblivion where when it is forgotten and useless?
the transformative forms we pass through shedding skin that is not our own. what are we when it is all stripped away reducing us to 0 and beyond. is that anything to sneeze at? achoo!
watch as a police officer brutally beats homeless woman. the latest hit on the social media hit parade, as real as you want it to be. the clown wonders. something is phony about all of this. it’s a riddle. monkey in the middle. let’s see how long it takes for the monkey to figure it out.
but this monkey seems to be an idiot. or it doesn’t mind living in an ass backwards world that don’t make no sense. either way the results are the same. silly monkey, does what it’s told.

the clown makes up coffee. he sits back down picking at scabs of dead skin on his head. a package arrives at the door. guy coming around checking the water meters. a sunny afternoon. coffee’s done.
the clown doesn’t do somersaults. he would fall down. so he thinks about how to get out. it would help if he knew where he is to begin with but he hasn’t a clue but what is claimed by the wise guys about this being the mundane material world we are to rise ourselves above to astral celestial spheres. he’s not so sure he believes that. it seems only like further levels of the same trap he is already in. but maybe not.
the only way out the wise guys claim is disciplined meditation that they will teach us for a price. it always comes down to $$$ – how much you got, how much you don’t got. he thinks about having a cigarette once in a while. he eats some beans instead.

the state will wither away.
he doubts that as well. he doubts any way outta here. it will always be a zoo. the days of roaming free around the earth are long gone. savages – naked unafraid. they need to be civilized.
and UFOs.
those longing to be abducted to anywhere as long as it’s not here now. anything but that. to escape out of it or to escape into it. or to remain the same and dig it.
so many options but none seem to get close to what the clown imagines might be true that cannot be described or explained or whatnot. it is true being beyond where truth has any meaning. gazorbnik. he feels he is getting close to that state of being without meaning. he is just about meaningless to others, now he needs to become meaningless to himself. set it to 0. begin again, yet there is no beginning. pretend. make believe.
when everything is taken away will we perceive true reality? when everything taken away is illusion. how will we know the difference? do these questions need to be asked? do they have any answers that aren’t just more questions? we doubt that.
he stops and breathes. he considers a nap. he decides not to but to continue with not p0em on and on for as long as he lives or until he gives up.

give up to who?
it’s a lonely world – no one nowhere at no time who is worth it much.
people one might tolerate for a while more or less though he would rather not.
why tolerate anyone who doesn’t tolerate him? becuz love? love ever shining up above the sky and deep under the sea. love encompassing everything. as if that has any meaning.
when meaning = 0. when the fat lady sings. when your head is a hole in the ground.
when 0 = meaning? can we state that with any certainty? the certainty of our universal doubt? huh? tell us your secrets.

some breathing exercises. clueless. pet the kitty. those soulful eyes demanding. whirlwinds of consciousness wondering about itself. ding-dong. cheerio, gosh darn it. [cough cough] 11:11?

bad ass special effects, baby. looking absolutely real. it’s easy to forget. and the improvised synchronistic manifestations – fantastic.
gunfire in the near distance as tires squeal around the corner the wrong way crash head on and outta the car with guns out for the passers-by will see making their escape up the hill is the last we saw.
pull up your pants. no one is impressed though many feel oppressed. we can never tell anymore. we’ve been had all over the place by now to really wanna trust anyone with nothing. psychophobia. it’s all in our minds. trying to be correct without thoughtcrime. but with a hidden irrationalogic study one will discover the method to the madness. or not.

the way is clear is the way. is 0 sizeless? is it everythingless? a certain turn of mind facing NE. though no rules are set to forbid it nor to condone it.
let the deeper lessons be learned by all without regard to nothing but our good looks.
why should we believe? believe who? what? and it all comes tumbling down – hahaha… and even though the clown is fucked he agrees that collapse must happen for us to move on – perhaps. or it remains the same, one wave after another, tide after tide, moon after moon.

their schemes of the universe don’t make that much sense if we happen to think about it as we may do from time to time, time after time. danger.
it’s medication time!
gulp those pills down. and it’s time for a peanut butter and bacon sandwich and more coffee.

there are no stupid questions, just stupid people – guru jeff.
everything is truth, by the way. not that it does us any good by now. everything will be forgotten. no more sacrifices to be made. laugh screaming alone in the void inside his head for once and for all in the meantime laying down beside still waters after the war to end all wars in some time to come.
or something like that.
some wanna live like royalty they think that’s where it’s at. but that breeds nothing but trouble in the long run all the way downhill. something’s missing. is it your mind? do you remember?




part 46

it’s medication time?
yes, indeed it is.

the clown coughs as he laughs about not p0em bzzzap peering out at what he can see of the world from here [boing] now easy chicken 7-8-9-6-3-2-1 something must be done.
what? chorus the queens of the silver spoons. death so young. complications affix themselves to the walls. thunder without lightning. gazorbnik?

how could we ever not be sure, though we are heavy with fundamental doubts? the mass plans of covert social research programs like the project older than dirt. pet the kitty.
the few who it takes to control the world. are they in control of themselves? absolute discipline for generations. is that the way? we who fall behind just in case. it’s gotta be somebody. what do we have to lose? our minds around around outta our heads swirling twirling across the universe? perhaps.

missiles into the sea closer and closer. the revolution is in place. children| know it by heart.
…what fucking revolution?
worldwide riots.
let them eat cake.
now, off with their heads.
everything onstage at the burning theater where the show never ends, nor begins. come waste your time with us. we’ll make you laugh and cry, fall tenderly in love or feel loathsome hate. don’t hesitate. make it a date to re,\member – eh?

hang on, it’s a long way down and there’s nothing there we might know how to use. our memories are short if at all. here we go. next stop – oblivion. back into the seas of possibilities. cosmic soup. shaken not stirred. flies buzzing around in our faces leaving traces of bygone days reaching the end. ]\an old old friend. we were so young but we seemed to understand what it was about. it means nothing in the end – haha.

surrounded by militia hereabouts we carry on as if it might matter to our perhaps steady rapid declining position among the better armed and organized whoever.
or not.
many sundry possibilities creeping us out. how far do we take it? how far do we wanna go? or be here now focused energy of the particle-waves surrounding us vibrating in rhythms outta rhythm partly order partly chaos neither quite having dominance over the other each in need to be in balance with its opposite in action/reaction yin yang-a-doodle all day.
to control the masses, you disarm them – guru jeff.

why is there nothing instead of something? turn everything around backwards for once or twice.
opposite reasoning need not apply. go it alone from here along on pathless paths la-dee-da. the clown spaces out into wild free thought hard to explain.
everything is nothing. nothing is everything.


kingdom come.
as it will be done.
earth and heaven – and hell.
he’s an idiot, if he’s even that.
atomic dead warzones afterlife with no escape.
hitting the edge singing beautiful and screaming loud the very empty shadows of being.
one step in any direction will take us there – here now.
you ought to be ready – mixing it all up as we please.
our growing sense of catastrophe.
ride the roller coaster off the cliff and into the sea.
the sea is humanity.
blub blub blub down down down we go to the bottom of everything where when it becomes nothing. what else good are we? good for nothings. what a lovely day. everything going our way. hooray.


fascist collective combative goon squads looking for trouble and finding it everywhere they go. trapped within celestial spheres in a maze of mirrors where light shatters itself into a zillion pieces at once ongoing continuing process of creating riffs of patterns of being flowing as would a river part of the dream we dream dreaming cuz that’s what we do.
do not suspect otherwise. danger. subliminal thinking into the deepest night of unconscious transmissions. this could be a mistake. we have our doubts.
we have our heroes of the hour. next, it’ll be someone else. it might even be you. will your stars shine favorably upon you for once more?
it all turns on 0. 0, the center of everything everywhere everywhen. we can’t get away from it. it’s in the center of our minds according to our theory of everything. it should mean something, but does it? what meaning does it have?

gazorbnik is meaningless, so it is open to take on any meaning we might choose for it to have. to call it meaningless is to give it meaning. we give it value. giving it value as having no value. none. 0.
then why bother?

we cannot think nothing. to do so makes nothing something to think.
not that any of this is important to anyone but the clown who thinks thinking about nothing is fun.
unspeakable unknowable.
the axis of everything threading all of it together. a gestalt of nothing.
is everything contained within nothing or is nothing contained within everything?
can either be true or false?
out of the blues and into the fire.
being human and mortal and experiencing oneself as such.
what a trip.

everything is so big and everything is so small.
everything is so long and everything is so short.
the size of space and the length of time.
nothing but existence.
bare minimum.
but existence depends on being observed, and vice versa.
does anything exist but that being perceived as existing, directly or indirectly?
or something like that.

figure it out, dumb shit.
thinking out on one’s own with whatever one has got more or less.
pay attention.
or to imagine dreaming delusions of one’s fanciful fancy like the bad old days of ill spent youth and such without regret anymore.
eggs with cheese and mushrooms for mid-afternoon meal.
followed without a cigarette.
bombarding reality with love bombs. how can this be? is there any truth in it? or is it all deception? another distraction? what is love?


xiy ooj alok d cah-qapd

part 45 (9)


look out.

sitting before the computer hunched over the keyboard typing not p0em the clown picks his nose while pondering what next about our continuing theory of everything and report to the committee and such like.
we haven’t a clue, but we have no doubt.
why not p0em?
why not not p0em?
1001 reasons becuz.

as he eats some raisin bran with the side of his tongue scraping painfully on a sharp broken edge of tooth.
as he just came home from the hospital getting his heart fixed up. it dances to a different drummer, only a bit too fast it seems is the problem. slow that sucker down.
as he pets the kitty wondering about those who decide to make us their adversary while he just wants to dig living life and write not p0em and such. why they take that as a personal affront he will never understand these peoples like that. are they strange aliens from another dimension in outer space? have we been invaded in secrecy?
whatever, baby.

simpleton consciousness worry wart thing leftover humdrum easy action as how many flowers must die for our realized salvation situational programs to conjure
twofaced greasy head messiah coming down the highway for no good jeopardizing the weather delving into shallow shadows of the feast of delusion always engaged jerking slow motion down the hill to meet jack and jill at a local tavern just after lunch while we are ready for sleep to peep inside windows with constipated glee as nothing is quite right for us anyhow preparing to die 1000 deaths again like the last time in a picture frame depicting the events we search to remember as it was is will be done with humble misgivings of pain and divisions among ourselves like trees in a forest embarking upon journeys toward within through the slime industrial vacuum cleaners dancing randomly in starlight?

opening zigzag to the show opportunity presents electric beeping hahaha when nothing is worth the time or $$$ with the advent of following rules of grammar when all else fails intense override lucky banana q11 selling everything we own and owe to live down by the river.
fancy that.
time ticks slowly a pony riding a flying saucer landing on the roof ding-a-ling disaster no ice.
come along with us.

hot shit baby.
the remaining logic of it like a hollow rotten old great tree and a big juicy burger to satisfy proceeding forth onward toward make believe.
be the best you can be.
people have weird ideas what constitutes best of anything.
people have weird ideas about nearly everything.

no one writes not p0em like the clown does.
he is the best ever.
he is the master.
everyone else can shove it – losers.

the pitiful people of pleasures they do not feel far from divine purpose engaging warp overdrive into the bright void undertaking the trip of trips while the clown doth sneeze his ego into a handkerchief.

fix it.
the silent confusion of confession.
first he was against it, now he is all for it.
the clown never sleeps except taking a nap.
within the storm knowing no bounds being but a flea to an elephant grabbing onto passing planets.
now he is a dead and dying thing not even human in retrospect.
call no one.
everyone is happy though happiness is not the goal.
magick mirrors of circus tricks down down down.
something else to meditate upon in a meadow in the forest of dreams.

evolution of secret thought no longer heeds the will. this is where the lost return with quiet motion against a howling moon where mystery abounds with cheap meaningless words.
living life to the end.
let the elite be elite.
let the common be common.
let dharma be dharma.
let us be as we are being the joyful player from king to fool.
a god among a zillion gods chasing playful butterflies down city streets screaming for joy watching waves at dawn until taken out and shot.
love radiating through the universe on the head of a pin dancing with angels or some such nonsense.
the aliens are landing is what is happening in our reality sometime on and off it comes and goes despite rumors to the contrary as they will be.

sitting silently breathing wandering with stars reflecting in puddles of toxic rain. are we close to finding i am? in the broken streets direction unknown if need be. souls abandoned on shores of tomorrowland.

the children singing songs of revolution as they have been taught in school marching around the playground.
up in your face hot and sweaty the romance is gone for those who know what that means bubblegum fantasy chewing its leg off to escape the dull angst of imagination.
but enough about that business. let’s think happy thoughts we will pretend are real. cute ass bunnies on the grill with sweet meaty blood flavor of smoke. and there’s a railroad to run on time.
let’s go!


strange indeed…

part 42 (6)

black flower

the darkness before the dawning of the bright astral light. don’t be alarmed, peoples. everything is as it should be, but you will not believe us, nor perhaps should you believe us.
taking our time but with no time to waste.
what do we have to prove?

don’t be fooled again by satan, baby.
we are not honest.
we watch and wait.
we will be annihilated with everything else in the end.
do we have time still for this pointless confusion?
let us check our calendars.
yes, nothing but time.
he goes to get some coffee. sometimes that’s all one can do when confronted by one’s own stupidity. even the cat even knows. we should just let it all alone for now, nothing can be done as it is. comeback another day.
apologize for this, apologize for that, apologize for the other thing – a life of apology///.
sorry for existing and disrupting the lives of others more important than ourselves which will always be the case in this back stabbing hierarchical world we employ for the glory of some and the degradation of others.
and there is the worship of heroes that changes day to day. those who live the lives of what the many wish for themselves. they love to watch them rise. they love to watch them fall. be careful.
everything is phony fake ass shit. the tired displays hauled out each time to celebrate the repeating affairs ever the same.

follow the bouncing ball. you all know what to do. kill the motherfuckers. if they don’t free us we will free ourselves. but free to do what? has anybody thought it out that far?
we will find out how dependent we are on a slave society when it is all upended topsy turvy and we starve to death cuz no one will bring us our dinner.

we wonder how it begins. we wonder when it ends. there is always someone who picks up the pieces and it continues everything all the same again – winners and losers.
the cheering of the crowds when it’s all set right again. the riots in the streets when it’s not. political power might come from a gun but armies march on their stomachs.
the world of illusion put together by the effort of our delusion to manufacture reality we might believe in for a while in a passing moment which is all that is needed to distract us from our ignorance.

the clown tries to keep awake but he is worn down and out. maybe a quick nap before medication time.

squeaky shoes.
millennial teenage world.
don’t know if you’re a boy or girl.
but the cavemen still hold on, wanna know what’s going on.
they wanna know what’s in your pants.
you wanna know if they can dance.
is there a chance?
whose love is true?

the sensitive life easily bruised.
staying outta the way.
let the other girls and boys break on through to the other side now.
the clown doubts they know where they’re going or what they are doing.
do they?
it would be a surprise.
but back then it was the days everything is alive.
the future bites back with memories.
we walk the darkened hallways of the museum – stone monuments and brass glass display cases.
a mausoleum of plunder.
while many visitors are oblivious, a few are sharp eyed to recognize the deception. a deception on generations of losers by the victors. the clues are what’s missing as well as what’s there. no one knows, but does anybody care?

some people get it and some people don’t – and some people won’t. they refuse with all their might, keeping their minds closed up tight. try to change them and they’ll put up a fight. this is the left as well as the right. this is up as well as down. this is humanity.
giant bugs telling us secret information we will need when we arrive at the next level, if ever. the process of a game more real than life. why should it not be? life is boring, tedious, repetitive – no fun. it should be action packed with excitement. that’s what everybody wants right now. they don’t care what needs to be destroyed to give it to them.
oh boy.
but we are the same even with our seemingly simple desires on the face of it. we cannot get away. there is no solution. none that has been found with 1000s of years of questioning thought the world over. we are not the 1st nor only ones. it would be strange if we were.

strange indeed…


part 40



nothing left to lose – hahaha…
the ways of cheating love guiding us toward opening coming in join the party happening around about now.
everybody’s relaxed but awakened in anxious moments passing in our experience taking so long as we have heard in the old radio night you’re better off dead.
it’s all good, we’re ready to go now reading mirrors far away into electric guitar feedback buzz-xx?.
fuzzy fat cat walking by through the clown’s field of visions waving in the breeze.
he doesn’t understand people ever, over.
nothing is the same as it seems to be ever was will be.
the immediate pain.
love is on the move. bringing it all down. shticks. they are watching you to take you away. what else for? the clown wonders experimental horseradish goo harnessed unity with biting mouths gleaming train a-coming.

sugar tones easing forth down by the river where the tunes playing flickering in the sun for free like it used to be sometimes when it all went broke people talking with themselves walking a dog god out of pocket for a while. bONUs tickets for tonight’s show at the burning theater where it’s hardly worth it anymore to show up still playing the fool.\\\ ||// peace – out [=] jumbling jazzootie hushabinks rushing waters that if we might be fortunate we may dream into them our sacred images of ourselves.
we’re scared.
ghosts in the machine for lack of anything else to be. whatever possibility which is thoughtcrime now more or less. for those thrown into the barren wilderness where they have nothing to sow for themselves to grow. but life’s not fair and they will have their revenge even if it’s their own hearts. there is no reason for there to be anything to fall back on. the quiet solitude of being catching the wind. leave it all behind.
kill the motherfuckers.
light up the scene with acid. do what we must do.
he goes to sleep.

eating tokes of weed oil chocolate.
hooked up on oxygen.
no more cigarettes.
911 early morning heart failure business blues.
a bagel with cream cheese.
self-important people.
the clown keeps breathing into a face of death.
is there any escape? there is for a suspended moment or 3.
intercontinental missile.
time from 0.
launching spy planes into space or something like that. bamboozled. the right to bear arms, as though that’ll do us any good against heavily armored police. beets, if you please. the variant degrees of hopeless desires as we walk on by. tell it to the marines who die for your sins committed among you to protect you from same. nevermind what else. let none speak of forgiveness, there is nothing here to forgive. quick animal logic objective insights spark integrating mix and match.
a forgotten past of denial for some of lost hopes.

right here we make a stand to reclaim ourselves up early in the morning. still collecting data some may find useful at this point beyond. another toke for peace. strung to an oxygen machine. back from the brink of everything. the fat black is happy being petted.
we choose what we choose choosing living life for now. always time for death. spin the wheels one more time. feel ourselves going outta our mind. more coffee. it’s all going down from here on out. only those who can save themselves. sad day in paradise. cookies.
an opening subsides into shape. this is probably not the end when there is no end. another piece of the puzzle of our minds.
will they ever tell us? it’s doubtful. what’s in their best interest in order to proceed and to profit from our mistakes?
echo bonnets, can we hear ourselves?
hey, you kids, get off our lawn.
when do we decide to stop? stop what exactly? can anything be exact? what do we need it to be?
we need a location in spacetime.
the bounds of this theoretical location is 0 to infinity between and beyond.
everything everywhere everywhen here now.
what does this mean? can it mean anything? is that possible? who might comprehend? comprehension from experiencing. understanding from comprehension. what’s that all about?

typing a report to the committee as not p0em the clown enters a zone of thought as non-thought. a matter of space and time. there is too much to describe yet not enough. there is no description. the ebb and flow of it throughout the process of becoming.
he naps.

awakening to the world again. coffee, toke, ginger snaps.
it’s medication time.
yummy – pills.
the clown needs to take it easy, breathe, heal what he can, let go of what he must, and just hold on. yup.
trading one crazy house of cards for another. he is a silly man decrepit from a young age until now. a life spent falling apart. x-ray vision time lapse memories. he knows what he’s got, it ain’t a whole lot but enough to get by as he keeps landing on his feet. it’s quite a trick. he doesn’t quite know how he does it. a magick secret place of all possibility perhaps. people paid to call him on the phone. he just wants to be left alone. that seems to be too much to ask. everybody minding each other’s business trying to tell them how it should be. but they’re squares and just don’t get it. see them breeding everywhere.
standing by – get ready to get ready.
this is it, baby. all of the good and all of the evil anointing our heads at once. how will it be? strange tranquility. demonic rage all over the place. heavenly ascension.
what’s the difference among all the options? none we can determine. tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth.
but who has the time for such shenanigans as that? gosh.
egad. who has time for anything but for the end of the world?
as if, baby, as if.
the silly parade dialing in but not like it used to be back in remembering days. did we not forget? lemon doubtful chicken. consume. scream that existential scream at the absurdity of it if we want to. or not if we don’t want to. it depends upon the weather, yes?
the coffee is bitter as it should be dunking ginger snaps to taste.
to taste and to experience all that it is. package deal. to smell, to feel, to hear, to see. to understand the gestalt of it in myriad aspects of dreaming.
it’s medication time.
safety first.
and he farts in celebration being alone all he can be.
no one else seems to dig.
oh well – maybe there is nothing to dig.
just cuz it can be done doesn’t mean we need to do it.
he is thinking funny to himself at the moment in a cubist sort of way.

end and begin it here.