29 –
life’s good. good enough to die and rot in hell, ah – haha. the god machine dreaming life and death we act out onstage of the burning theater in times like these we have long ago forgotten in the future – buzz.
there is no future, just loneliness.
when one is hated for exposing lies & revealing truth, as if anyone cares about that sort of thing. it’s happening. the prayer line is disconnected. nothing to worry about really. oh shit. and nothing more to lose, if we’re not mistaken.
have a positive attitude, that’ll do the trick. what you see is what you get, or something like that. whatever floats your battleship to fight another day.
this world is so old, we have been here such a short time they tell us, yet long enough to trash the place until everything once living is dead. hooray – we win.
the clown continues typing not p0em. today is not such a good day with the funky blues hanging around on everything. rich fucks robbing the treasury. more $$$ for their god fearing greed. it’s always been them, down through ages taking everything they can for themselves and leaving everyone else with none. nice.
but there are no rules. it’s a grab it while you can and hold onto it as long as you are able to world. it is just as it should be for everyone but the losers. the losers can die, nobody cares. their names are forgotten. but for the rich pigs their names are memorialized.
take a chance, find romance, let’s dance. could anything be true anymore, or was that a dream we had once?
junk food jamboree going on baby, yup. it’s the death of everything. let’s celebrate. shitfaced pumpkin heads. this is nuts as we kinda expected by now. who is to tell us different? let them be ashamed to stand before our mighty god(s). let them tremble from their nose to their toes. then let’s laugh at them cuz it’s all a joke after all. wouldn’t that be funny if it is true. the joke’s on all of you. what nonsense this is and we love every moment of it descending like snow on a peaceful quiet night. you know what we mean.
how could we be as cruel as having people tortured and slowly killed? many enjoy it, should we not include them in our play? amusements are critically developed from our past indifferences.
the clown is concerned. he thinks about 0&±0 in a boxing match. which do you think would win if theoretically possible? what is not theoretically possible with our theory of everything? we cannot think or even imagine impossibilities. our brains balk at the prospect of another twisting twisted ordeal our minds put us through with their wild investigative thinking.
the clown considers a cigarette but then decides, no.. he grins. he spins. then he hesitates while observing and studying a flower, lost in the vision of it. then he crushes the flower in his fist for a reason he does not know why. he ought to ask the therapist who is now on maternity leave. it will have to wait by which/witch time he will forget. it’s easy. yes, it is.
the clown sighs feeling defeated by himself – his negative self? perhaps not. it’s a game of dirty tricks that exactly follow the rules. what rules? no one told us there are rules. what the fuck? do you wanna fuck the president? fuck fuck fuckity fuck!
as we have mentioned always before, everything is fake. so now and then what do we do? acknowledge it for what it’s worth on the open market, though no market is really open, people up to shenanigans all the time, gotta always get ahead by whatever means. it gives the clown the creeps, but what doesn’t at some point or another? coo-coo.
paragraph 8: suddenly nothing happened. it was quite a surprise. did you see it? are you one of the chosen ones we are after? do you see the light of darkness too? here, fill out this form and we’ll get back to you momentarily as soon as we can. 11:11
the clown rocks out awhile. old school hippie shit. then he returns to reality of not p0em he’s typing along his merrie way hither thither a-ram-dang-doo chewing double bubble always getting into trouble for some sorta dramatic effect. with divine light pouring into his heads still. and he sleeps.
awakening to a plain regular day hereabouts. not too much of anything. coffee, toke, cigarette. thinking about everything as much as it is possible. he may go back to sleep. it’s medication time. and pet the kitty.
and the sun comes out as the clouds begin to clear away. we respond to light and dark judging light to be good and dark to be evil. but they are just light and dark. we judge all things putting them in categories, or something like that.
in the air, in the psycho psychedelic mindscape where spirits roam singing the magic pencil song. how we love to go along. it’s just like cheesecake.
and you can feel however you feel, but we don’t need to particularly care how you might feel. you can speak what you want to, but we don’t necessarily need to listen. everything’s about us, and whoever else we might decide to include.
has this gone far enough? not really. we feel it needs to go much further. we can take it as far as it goes before we leave this world abode.
the project will not ever be completed in any of our lifetimes nor the lifetimes of those who are to come. dig it.
the project is perpetually ongoing, always changing itself from itself into itself. brawk! and one may ask, how is that done? the answer is, we don’t know. we just follow instructions from the ethereal waves we radiate one to/from another.
pork it. put it in its place where everything goes. bend over and take it. replace it. you know what to do. it’s written in your blood on teeny tiny strands of DNA (do not activate). storm the castle walls, hahaha – arrgh.
to casually discuss mass death as if ordering chinese. anything to keep one’s pride and honor. suck it baby, suck it long and hard. you know you like it, down on your knees. more power to you. this is how it goes from here to there. long live no one, they are not happy until they die. so die already.
enlightenment is not as much fun as we might expect. it’s a dirty business as now everything is taken from us because we are stupid and helpless. what a way to go.
the more greedy the more intelligent they believe themselves to be. they do not need to be kind, they are strong and mighty. they take what they want. why do we suffer in their idiot world they are the masters of? they are nitwit chattering monkeys bent on a mission. we wish them all success and then turn our backs and ignore them. we’ve better things to do than stand around watching their parades they believe are what is needed for them to feel important. we laugh before they come to murder us.
o’ this world so licentiously delicious as they rank each other according to ancient standards of confusion. what a buncha jerks with no imagination but lottsa $$$. it’s funny to see them all suited up to go to war. better them than us as we count our blessings disguised as a curse we are told we must tremble before its disgusting glory of beauty they promise. huh?
ticky tacky way out there with golden showers of useless wealth they hold so dear. this is what the fuss is about? come on, tell us it isn’t so. hahaha hahaha hahaha, what’s so funny? not us. we are sad and pathetic in our appearance as what we are not. we play the fool to play them as fools without them knowing or even remotely considering might be true. magick process of our quiet deceptions. we’re cool with just about anything everything might present us with. all we really need to do is die. and with that taken care of we can relax and sit back and enjoy the rest of the show.
gazorbnik 