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and so as we amuse ourselves speculating about whatever whatnot about everything we might imagine about including in with our theory of everything which of course everything is included even the dirty nasty disgusting parts crawling through the backs of our minds he continues sitting before the computer hunched over the keyboard typing out a not poem about our aforementioned theory of everything and such cuz he ain’t no poet.
we laugh and laugh and laugh about nothing.
then we break down and cry over spilled milk.
those are the breaks, baby.
get used to it.

no angst about it as we just are wondering about what’s up and what’s not.
don’t panic.
calm soothing waves of energy.
everything everywhere everywhen.
hanging out on easy street watching people going by avoiding eye contact with dregs like us.
we gaze into the universe.
astonishing.
pay attention.
dreaming of a better life in a better world beyond this world of self-loathing despair.
this best and worst of all possible worlds.
we find the balance of it out of balance.
the action/reaction yin yang thing as we have stated before.
easy.
it comes and goes.
we watch and wait.
nothing.
we laugh and laugh some more.
we have no expectations as to avoid disappointment and being quite content with what is and what is not already.

everything.
it may begin with less than a pinpoint.
a 0 dimension plenum singularity thing or something like that – if even that.
it doesn’t need to begin but might be beginningless.
a continuous being.
or not.
what do we care?
it’s just something to think about when we think about it.
what comes to mind in the moment.
eternal.
a god?
why?
why not?
that argument continues unabated between the rival camps.
as if they know shit.
a toke.
a cigarette.
a conscious being here now.
he feels himself to be a continuing extension of that consciousness.
he can almost remember.
lost in imagination.
fancying fantasy.
an illusion of light and shadow.
he has fooled himself into believing he is this isolated alone thing.
a dull reflection of himself.
himself as i am.
billions of others as i am.
ain’t nothing special about that.

he thinks about everything.
a mad god laughing screaming alone in the void inside his head.
he imagines i am taking everything and throwing it to the winds to land as it will.
thus the universe.
thus the world.
thus himself.
improvisation.
surprise.
sunrise.

[P]

as a spaceship hovers nearby he continues typing not poem.
a report to the committee.
who knows who?
it could be you.
it’s not us.
it’s not them.
yes.

we are them.
subjects of the experiment that seems to be a blazing success.
the project is the object.
everything according to plan.
follow the $$$.
who has it and how and why?
who doesn’t have it and how and why?
every side has its propaganda to convince you of their truth the one truth and nothing but the truth shall be admissible and set you free to die or fend for yourself.
yup.

so – where we at?
being here now thinking about everything trying to assemble a theory of everything out of nothing.
it is it.
gazorbnik.
(don’t) drink the kool-aid.
he eats some grapes.
he’s baking some potatoes.
another cigarette.
a game of balance out of balance.
gyroscopic in a wobbly world.
disintegration.
finding a sense of everything.
a sense of understanding.
vibrating energy within and without.
don’t know what it’s all about.
give it a shout.
(what’s the amount we have to pay in order to stay?)
B-3
become.
haphazard happenstance occurring synchronistic be-bop.
we fit in where when we can.
that’s the plan.
infiltrate.
subvert.
take over?
nope, not us.
we are them.

inexcusable behavior becomes the new norm.
battle of the (t)wits.
smarter than the average idiot perhaps but does us no good.
our thinking is blowing in the wind.
our thinking is blowing our minds.
it takes all kinds to make a village.
we exclude nothing from our theory.
however, much of it excludes itself.
they don’t want to associate themselves with our kind.
this is nearly universal.
that’s ok cuz we don’t wanna associate with them either.
too many rules.
cooperation enforced with competition for carrots dangling on sticks manipulated by our overlords according to some theories that are also exclusive.
we believe their truth or we can take a hike.
hike we must wandering pathless paths avoiding falling into their tricky traps set out for the unsuspecting.
of course doing that itself might be a trap.
what difference does it make at this point?
but we have our protectors.

imagine being i am.
what does that do for us?
in our heads outta our minds.
outta control – their control.
or not.
i am lights another cigarette.
i am takes its medications.
i am thinks about everything.
i am perceives through mysteries to itself.
who cannot say, i am that i am?
if they thought about it like as much as he thinks about it.
would we not arrive at the same conclusion though there is no conclusion?
it’s simple.
just follow the bouncing ball.

the lost art.
thinking.
now the answers are given as they always have been.
pay attention.
learn the facts and figures as calculated and written out for the world to see and believe.
they tell us to trust them, as if we had a choice.
they make sure that they are the only game in town.
it is difficult to get around out of it but it is possible.
are you gonna be there (at the love-in)?
cheetos.
another cigarette.
he sleeps.

awakening.
coffee, toke, cigarette.
here we go.
fantastic.
the trip is still the trip.
oh my.
excitations.
good vibrations along a rocky road.
who said this was gonna be easy?
you want easy then go to hell.
it’s all downhill.
not that that is necessarily a bad thing.
who knows?
not us.

sophomoric understanding.
every word attempts to define the indefinable.
any description is metaphoric at best.
what tells us anything is our direct experience.
perhaps.
how much should we trust the accounts of other people’s experiences?
unless we are able to duplicate them we should remain wary.
if truth exists it is not easy to come by.

meanwhile we plod along with murky minds stumbling along pathless paths toward who knows what beyond the edges of oblivion we come across in our travels.
are we 1?
are we infinite?
are we caught in the middle?
it’s a riddle.
everything on our minds.
faced with the dilemma of madness.
what is real and what is not?
who is to tell us but ourselves?
as a jet rumbles overhead.
simple as a pimple.
squeeze it.
SEX.

it is it.
let x=x.
it is the thing (object) itself.
how do we know everything’s not all in our minds?
then why do we cause pain to ourselves?
to experience the full experience?
that might explain it.
or not.
everything is a learning experience if we allow it to be.
it and not it annihilate each other in one implosive explosive eternal orgasm reaching spheres of bliss.
that’s one way to go about it.
ultimate death.
more coffee, another cigarette.
damn it to heaven.
who among the many gods claiming to be the one true god is actually the one true god if any?
interesting mind game to play with awhile.
always questions.
we know the answers too late.
more questions.
life goes on.
appearances may be deceiving.
or not.
this could be it.
forever in doubt.
according to our theory of everything this could very well be true under certain circumstances and conditions and from certain points of view in certain states of mind.
but we cannot be certain of this however cuz anything might happen.

we live in an anything might happen world – especially regarding human behavior which also must be included in with our theory of everything unlike rationalogic theories which dismiss the human element so they might be “objective”.
and all this fuss may be a tempest in a teacup sorta thing about nothing.
if we were gods.
but we’re not.
we’re pathetic stupid humans.
all of us.
for us this is larger than life.

he gives what he’s got to give by not having it to begin with.
the simple life is the peaceful life filled with perplexing understanding.
or not.
everything should be easy for everyone.
or not.
for everyone who wants it.
but living is to struggle.
he struggles with his own mind.
it thinks up the craziest shit.
this is his madness.
he doesn’t know what to believe or not.
but the world is crazy too so what is he supposed to think otherwise?
he doesn’t know.
it’s all mixed up in its own convoluted confusion with those shouting their truths.
a cacophony of utter nonsense.
and those who feel order must be imposed.
but no one can agree on what it should be if anything at all.
it must come forth from within not enforced from without.
there are no rules but the arbitrary ones of those who would be the enforcers.
refuse.
resist.
become.

and he comes to understanding that few seem to understand.
he is mad.
he is an idiot.
he doesn’t care.
it’s all blowing in the wind to him.
and he laughs at them all with their formality and pretense.
their flags waving burning.
making a loud noise about nothing.

for him is silence.
far away from the crowds.
they are all mad as is he suffering from the same human condition.
we escape any which way we can.
is there anything else that has meaning or purpose?
shipwrecked washing ashore on some island in the eye of a storm raging on an otherwise calm sea.
the sea is humanity.
peace on earth.
goodwill toward everyone.
and common understanding.
not too much trouble.
not too much to ask.
is it?
but one finds this within oneself for oneself by oneself.
we each ourselves are all what we need to worry about.
how we each choose to go about doing that is our own fucking business.
but the collective hates the individual crushing them wherever they might be found – everywhere.
this has been the foundation philosophy of any all organizations they have devised.
the infidel, the heretic, the witch, etc. – whatever they call us.
search and destroy.
blah blah blah.

but we manage to fit in anyway.
but they are thinking up ways of detecting and eliminating us with their rationalogic science and technology where religion has failed.
there may be no escape.
oh well.
it was fun while it lasted.

sensations.
vibrations.
of everything.
being.
experiencing.
feeling thinking.
imagining.
desire and fear.
walk betwixt the two and enter the garden.
sing and dance.
fall down.
laugh.

according to many theories our perceptions of this world are false.
be that as it may we still are existing in order to have these false perceptions – correct?
it proves nothing.
we may have forgotten that we had chosen this world to possibly experience as the same as any inhabitant might.
enwrapped in mortal garb.
enclosed in a mortal brain.

our mortal minds grasping for meaning in a seemingly meaningless world where we know very little about what everything might be or not.
we delude ourselves with truth.
why blinder ourselves with truth?
there is so much more to experience.
everything.
everything in creation.
however means it is created.
a golden dragonfly laying an egg which in no-time bursts instantly into everything.
a chaotic jumble of hot nonsense noise.
and the beat goes on and on.
cycles spiraling every which (witch) way out of a hat.
imagine that.
until it all slowly dies and goes out.
poof.

atomic cockroaches in the jungles of mind.
it’s medication time.
another cigarette.
he makes corned beef hash and eggs for his baby.
more coffee.
continuing on with not poem about our theory of everything.
0 dimension point that is neither large nor small.
plenum singularity.
here now.
playing with pieces of puzzles or no puzzle at all.
fractions of itself – ourselves.
it is/is not it.
take your pick.

everything is nothing.
nothing is everything.
that’s how that goes.
serpent swallowing its tail.
and all that jazz.

he lights a gold candle.
he gnashes clenched teeth in a grin.
the endless rounds of rituals year after year.
going nowhere (now here).
he is tired.
isn’t anybody else?
what’s the point?
everything the same not the same.
but what is not ritual?
wheels spinning turning all possible directions.
wind blowing through his hair.
geese flying south and stuff like that.
the rhythms of nature.
ho-hum.
spicy hot cheese log.
god dog.
let’s do without gods a while and see what happens – what we become.
new gods or old, fuck ‘em all.
why not?
and he sleeps.