grotesque nectar

some semblance of doubt.
some remnant of faith.
torn between one or the other when both amount to the same.
while others lead their tumultuous lives he does nothing but sit before the computer typing out a not poem cuz he ain’t no poet about our theory of everything.
like some broken down aristocrat.
good for nothing.
and the gods are no good either.
the hierarchy of heaven.
the corporate state of groupthink nirvana.
he can’t get in.
he can’t get out.
same as it ever was.
8iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii8i8888888888
thinking about nasty muffins.
thinking much too much for his own good.
thinking is a curse.
it only leads to trouble for us.
it’s not our place to think.
we should always know our place.
the fat black cat attacks him.
draws blood.
everything is fine and dandy.
what could be better?
much could be worse.
the song remains the same.
hello kitty.
he dreams senseless things for no particular reasons.
just to waste time passing.
it’s a mystery.
a plenum of infinitely dense matter.
pinpoint at zero or something else he doesn’t quite understand.
all comes alive with energy willing itself to be.
anything is possible at this point.
a god by any other name.
he’s a fool for thinking this shit.
thinking and thinking.
trying to put pieces of it together any way he might manage to get them to fit.
but what makes him think they need to fit?
something ingrained in his head that may be true/not true.
the pointlessness of it astounds him.
he is overcome with joy and anguish at this demise of thought.
thinking bad.
not thinking good.
that’s what the wise guys try to convince us that may be true or not.
he wonders if that should concern him or not.
everything is or is not.
what does it matter?
here we are in the thick of it.
a universe as unconcerned about us as we are about the fate of any particular particle of ourselves might be.
disco will never die.
boom boom boom throbbing beat.
the cosmic beat everlasting.
the more it changes the more it remains the same – forever.
the hierarchical order we perceive as is our nature to organize ourselves and our thoughts accordingly this way.
the competition for supremacy in all aspects of our lives from subversive underground to corporate boardrooms.
what else might be possible?
how much $$$ could it make before we will consider it.
so much goes to waste including human lives.
the gods don’t care.
they watch it all on tv changing channels as fits the mood of the moment.
he comes to realization.
he comes to understanding.
it does him little good.
it changes nothing.
but what would he change?
the ways of the world are set deep in its foundations.
there is no way to alter it without an entire transformation from the bottom up.
not likely to happen no matter what turn of events might occur.
this is it.
o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o
he goes to the café for a mocha.
he comes back for a toke.
a cigarette.
gazing out the window at nothing much happening but everything we come to be complacent about and hardly notice it happening all the time before our eyes.
everything is change.
a series of constantly running programs of shifting algorithms and such flashing and dancing producing a reality simulation convincing enough to believe is real though if we think about it we realize it cannot be except under particular circumstances of possibilities.
but the same goes with any reality we might be exposed to experiencing.
what is the true test of reality?
everything occurring in our thinking no matter which what.
and supposedly our thinking alters reality which in turn alters our thinking and around around that serpent swallowing its tail we go.
hooray.
celebrate the moment we endure.
we will inherit the earth what’s left of it to watch grow back over the ruins of yesterday into an abundant garden once more.
or not.
we have our crazy doubts.
we have dreams.
envisioning a world of peace, tolerance and understanding falling into the common will of all concerned not needing to be enforced.
greed withers away.
empires turn back into sand.
the survivors live in co-existing diverse blendings of culture interlinking the world.
local global networks.
and all that jazz.

cybersync.
he lights another cigarette.
there is no reasonable reason why any of that should take place.
it takes imagination.
it’s a continuing fantasy world we live in believing it is possible though everything tells us we are wrong.
we’ve been wrong before.
there is every reason to doubt.
a gray gloom day.
nothing much happening in the park.
he makes some tea.
black tea and licorice.
stimulating soothing.
and an english muffin with orange marmalade.
chill a bit.
cars driving by now outside the window.
out of our right minds.
our right minds would tell us what’s what and what’s not.
they would show us what to do correctly.
if we ever wanted to know.
we spend our days in dreamtime.
reality is such a drag much of the time.
little things that drive us mad.
the blessing curse of madness.
but we are not mad really.
or not.
no more or less than the rest of us.
a planet of madness where all things make sense to somebody.
we are them.
solipsistic dreamers.
sisyphusian dreams.
we can’t get there from here.
the journey with no destination in mind but the continuing journey itself.
he tries meditating but nods off as usual.
he was never much able to get past that anytime.
oh well.
he doesn’t get it.
it’s not the way for him apparently.
his scattered minds.
he tries not to see the world.
he nukes some lasagna.
the world changes into geometric shifting schematics of energy fluctuating force fields and such.
cosmic dance.
living organism.
eat or be eaten.
or hide.
or radiate good vibrations.
being naked and unafraid.
what does it take to be that?
literally and metaphorically.
weaponless in a world we no longer perceive as hostile – coming to get us.
what’s wrong with that reality fantasy?
unicorns or no unicorns.
blowing bubbles of worlds for our amusement.
dreamers dreaming about dreamers dreaming on and on…
zxzxzxzxzxzxzxzxzxzxzxzxzxzxzxzxzxzxzx
hahaha.

café time again.
another mocha.
he worries about whatnot about everything.
he wonders if this is a dream come true haunted with karma.
thrills and chills.
the moment progressing.
this briefing for a decent into hell.
writing a report to the committee as if there might be one to write a report to but we fantasize.
he hopes the gods protect fools.
but sometimes it’s not pretty.
but there is naught we can do against fate and the actions of others.
he lights another cigarette.
he hopes for the best while expecting the worst.
what else does a bum like him do?
skating across thin ice juggling faith and doubt.
he sits onstage at the burning theater watching the proceedings of drama unfolding for the delight of the crowd.
he sits at an unsteady table scribbling a not poem into a notebook about our theory of everything.
this strange beautiful world.
the corruption of greed.
the sorrow of innocence.
he watches and waits.
let’s see what might happen next.
the caw of crows.
the sounds of passing traffic on an overcast afternoon.
a cup of coffee.
another cigarette.
relax.
calm.
be.
it.
it transcending itself through everything in all possibility.
just a thought.
just what comes to mind passing with the moment.
he is in over his head with what he does not understand.
his vast ignorance and the combined ignorance of the species is overwhelming at times.
then it seems just a sneeze.
will we sneeze in heaven?
will we cough burp fart?
will we pick our noses?
will we ever be cold and shivering or hot and sweaty?
just how perfect will heaven be?
an unchanging static sphere of perpetual nothingness.
this is his vision of godhead.
empty head free of thought.
senseless being.
a sacrifice of self for the unity of whole.
unity as one everlasting absolute.
it is it.
as simple as that.
it coming to understanding of itself through a process of discovery of all it might become.
the mind of our minds.
the being of our being.
the trouble coming every day it sometimes seems to be in disheartened moments now as it comes and goes as we are to be free of concern.
but we enjoy the thrill of being on the edge of our seats in the burning theater watching the show go on and on.
but not for long.
our time is short.
there’s more at the door.
suckers born by the minute into the grand parade onward toward whatever will be will be.
he tries to be of good cheer.
it’s not too easy being in this world of turmoil and bitter disappointments from our excited expectations we make for ourselves.
just another sucker.
oh well.
transformational changes to ourselves becoming transcending beings forthcoming to newly perceived worlds as we imagine.
he has many unfortunate doubts.
but he thinks too much, so he’s told.
madness overtakes him.
this in the name of the absurd.
but he gazorbniks away through it into fantastic dreams half-forgotten and jokes no one seems to find amusing he tells to himself all himself to the end if an end ever occurs which he also doubts doubting everything at some point or another along the way of the long strange trip it’s been gazing toward the possible infinity of spacetime universe thing as it is as we have imagined it to be for our enjoyment.

and he comes home.
he has a toke – coughing hacking.
he makes tea.
he lights a cigarette.
he pets the kitty.
he meditates with mind whirling flip flops.
quite a fix.
writing has been his meditation.
thinking as he writes as he thinks.
a process of self-realization of sorts.
improvised with the moment in streams of consciousness on variations on themes from ages past till now.
nuked mac and cheese and a ginger ale.
a search of understanding of everything which now he may be coming to realize – or not.
everything he might know about and imagine being.
or is this a symptom of his madness?
whirl-a-gig head.
flip his wig.
aura.
tao.
dharma 101.
karma 777.
refuse it.
resist it.
become it.
everything discovering itself to know itself through experiencing itself.
this experiencing living through us as an electric current through a light bulb that eventually burns out but the current continues.
radiating expanding waves of patterns ordered out of chaos.
everything is a metaphor of itself as it is described by whatever means or media.
the process of transmitting/receiving bits of data.
tokens of exchange.
deriving meaning from it.
useful information to consume and digest.
organism.
thinking.
contemplating its existence.
the answer is a riddle.