thoughts from the void

imagining sitting before the computer gazing out the window at people driving trucks up the street typing out a not-poem about our theory of everything.

the crime of love.
the time of hate.
the reason for it all.
believing.
bleeding.
and god.
and a dog.

not quite knowing what we’re doing but unable to stop ourselves.
it’s much too late by now.
we’re on our way.
destination unknown undiscovered.
what more do we want?
we want it all.
we want it now.
all unreason is ours for the others to wonder about how to make us behave ourselves which we refuse until our demands are met.

quack.
we begin by being.
we begin by realizing i am.
we open our eye to the void.
an empty canvas for us to paint as we please.
what do we feel?
what do we think?
we imagine everything happening at once in constant confusion settling into order as we desire for it to become.

he becomes tired.
life has done him in.
he squandered his chances for eternity.
he squandered his chances to become anyone he might choose.
he never could figure it out.
a silence descends upon him.
a silence of anxious peace he has become quite used to as his natural state of mind at rest for the time being as being human in a world appearing out of the play of light and shadow on the face of the deep.
a void of no space nor time nor anything but his mind thinking i am.

just kidding.
none of this is real.
wake up.
pay attention.
this will be on the test.
the test of the fate of our soul everlasting in torment or bliss or somewhere in the middle between.
it’s medication time.

it has been pretty much supposed that punishment does not deter crime.
so why is god so stupid?
but god is perfect, so god is right.
we are wrong.
so the wise guys tell us.
but there is no god that might be detected by our senses therefore it does not exist.
technically they are correct.
an infinite god cannot exist within finite parameters.
they are exacting that way.
we are more free with our definitions.
if it can be imagined then it exists.
our imagination as a sense to detect what the other senses do not.
perhaps.
or not.

he feels being out among people that he is still on a childhood playground the way we behave where we learned our basic social skills one way or another.
he watches and waits.
who are the few and far between among them?
look closely.
anyone?
everyone?

cleverly disguised as no one he gets by unnoticed.
nothing to see here, move along.
an observation point.
writing a report to the committee as a not poem.
the project is ahead of schedule and under budget.
all is well.

everything ultimately as one.
1 > infinity.
we can’t get there from here.
he chews some bazooka.
he scrambles some eggs for him and his baby.
everywhere is here.
god is here, undetectable but by imagination.
we are here.
the exact center of infinity is here.
everything is infinity.
everything is 0.
he sleeps.

he awakens.
the blues.
a cigarette.
a feeling of impending disaster looms over him.
one of the drawbacks of being mad.
but is it madness?
in reality anything can happen.
as the gods decide to cast fate upon us.
the gods can be cruel.
it’s medication time.

and he comes to the café.
mocha.
he’s not really awake as yet.
still partly dreaming.
radio making unnecessary noise people seem comforted by that he finds annoying.
he prefers silence.
he prefers his thinking which others seem to wanna avoid their own and need stimulating distractions.
little in this world is as he would have it.
but everyone probably feels that same way.
all these other fuckers fucking everything up.
they could die and we wouldn’t be that concerned about it but would feel perhaps relieved.
it would be quiet.
it’s just a mood he gets into once in a while.

is this world some sorta testing ground for us to earn points toward transcending our way out of it?
transcend to what?
higher more refined planes of perception and existence more perfect as we approach the perfect godhead?
but how perfect is it?
perfect being what?
is everything perfect except this world?
that seems rather strange.
perfection/imperfection is another duality continuum thing.
a matter of our perception.
a matter of taste?
are all our ideas of what is perfection the same?
nope.
he declares everything perfect with its imperfections.
if we decide to perceive it that way then is that how it is?
or something like that.

we find our own space and time to be able to be in the state of mind to perceive perfection even in the world as is.
he perceives perfection in the earth, the world is another matter.
the world human created by those of us who perceived the earth as wanting under the influence of the spell of the knowledge of good and evil we build the world to overcome.
but the earth itself is paradise of abundance while the world is filled with scarcity.
the earth tends to itself while the world needs constant vigilant maintenance or it collapses.
the earth is a playground while the world is a workshop.
he would like to live with the earth but where do we find it anymore?
who is prepared for it?
not him.
he is a child of the world in all its tyranny.
without it he is dead meat.

he doesn’t know what to do.
he is mad in relation to this world.
he is mad in relation to the earth.
he has nowhere to turn.
so he sits here in the café scribbling a not poem about our theory of everything for all it is worth.
all that perfection means.
no mistakes or flaws.
completely correct or accurate.
having all qualities wanted.
satisfying all requirements.
corresponding to an ideal standard or abstract concept.
faithfully reproducing the original.
lacking no essential detail.
and like that.
doesn’t the world qualify to at least some of these?

the world is perfect as it is but not compared with an ideal of perfection.
what is a mistake or flaw?
we are told the mistake and flaw in this world are ourselves.
we’re just a buncha fuck ups.
who tells us this but the wise guys in league with the pigs to keep us oppressed and doing our job?
to realize perfection we need to realize it within ourselves to be ourselves.
but others judge us otherwise and we judge others otherwise.
everyone is guilty.
everyone is to blame.
no one wants us around.
everything would be perfect without us.
we should all die.
save the world.
kill yourself.

the feeling arises in us that we are not good enough.
all heaven and hell comes from this.
perfection above.
imperfection below.
we are told we must rise above ourselves to seek higher ground.
up in the trees free as a breeze.
our social ranking is devised from this.
the higher the status the higher in the tree.
to shit and piss on the rest.
we still position ourselves this way and it is ingrained in our use of language and thinking.

opening doors to the other side where it is better than being here as it is believed in popular opinion.
everyone wants to escape.
everyone wants out.
to reach for perfection for our true happiness.
the closer to perfection the closer to happiness.
the closer to god.
but for him he derives happiness from imperfections within the ideal of perfection others seem to have.
to see weeds growing through cracks in a sidewalk and such like.
changing perfection rather than static perfection.
the perfection of water opposed to the perfection of stone.
but he chooses neither/both.

to allow the world to gently return to the earth before it suddenly collapses on its own.
but that will not happen probably.
the world continues to stagger on throughout our wavering history of rise and fall of civilizations.
this is perfection in the real as opposed to the ideal that is often imposed on the real to mimic.
this world is perfect in its own right as being the perfect best and the perfect worst of all possible perfect worlds.
it has all the qualities wanted satisfying all requirements and lacking no essential detail in both respect of being best and worst.
why worst?
isn’t perfection supposed to be best?
that is the ideal.
everyone wants the best for themselves.
but best and worst are relative to those experiencing them.
the best for one is the worst for another.
and as with any other duality the two are both complementary and in opposition.
and la-dee-da about that.

he knows nothing.
he views those in torment and to who avenues to enlightenment are far removed and inaccessible.
perhaps in further lifetimes they might be more fortunate and reach it.
should he trust this?
we all come from the same muck and mire of the world before attaining higher levels of consciousness that brings us to what we most desire to be perfect in heaven or hell or somewhere on the continuum between and beyond.
we cannot determine what perspectives others are basing their view of reality which is not one thing but many things.
and there is the individual and the collective ideals of it.
a rock is a rock.
is it the best rock?
is it the worst?
it’s just an ordinary rock yet it is perfect in and of itself for what it is if we decide to perceive it that way.
put it in your pocket.

it’s not what things are that we judge them but for what they are compared to what we feel they ought to be.
to perceive perfection in everything without this judgment.
he has a rock in his pocket not because it is perfect in the sense it has value to others like it being gold or a diamond or something but because it is perfect in its ordinariness.
it is a rock that can be found almost anywhere.
no one would think twice about it.
this is how we should view the world to see its perfection.
if one wants to that is.
no big deal if not.

it’s quite simple once we get through all the complicated shit to get to it.
and he wonders why that is.
why should we not have innate knowledge of this?
few of us are told about it but instead we are filled with useless information designed to make us productive citizens.
everything is such a struggle against everything.
becuz this world is the best and the worst.
and we’re a buncha fuck ups.
the worst fuck ups possible.
shape up or ship out.
or get on it.

and this isn’t anything but what one person gathered together from information accessible to pretty much everyone if they look for it and to think about one’s own experiences.
if he can do it then anyone should be able to.
but it takes a certain perspective of mind to think this way and to attract the information we need when we need it according to our understanding.
but maybe this is his lifetime that it happens and for others it’s not.

so in a tenuous situation that could collapse at any given moment it feels like or not he is fairly satisfied with his existence more or less thus far along the way toward further understanding as he perhaps deludes himself into thinking but even if that is the case, so be it.
there’s all sortsa shit he doesn’t like about the world that mainly centers around the actions of his fellow humans but they work hard for nothing almost to provide him with just about anything he might need or want which they give him $$$ to pay for.
but they’re always fucking with shit, mostly one another, instead of letting it go its own way.
but they won’t allow that though in the long term it could make our lives that much easier maybe.
when the power goes out he likes people fucking with shit to get it back on though perhaps eventually they won’t.
he lives by the grace of fate guided perhaps by god that has been kind thus far though he often felt otherwise.
but he is privileged to some extent to have had advantages others have not.
he doesn’t understand why this must be.
all should have equal advantage.
all should have equal upbringing and education regardless of social status which needs to wither away.
but there’s no room in the top of the trees for all of the monkeys.
but all this is nothing that hasn’t been pointed out before by others in more intelligent detailed analysis and blah blah blah.
he continues though it is so much babbling while he watches and waits while life goes on.
he needs to go to the store for supplies.

this is only his experience of it.
limited experience at that.
and remember, he is an idiot.
this world is based on frustration.
but we learn from our frustration toward understanding.
he has found this to be true.
frustrated that the world is not as perfect for us as it should be in our opinion.
we mostly try to change the world and not ourselves or our perception to adjust our ideals to account for actual reality.
he realized that the majority of frustration he feels is self-generated driven by expectations of things turning out differently than they are.
expectations are based in desire and fear, our primary motivators.
we want something or to get away from something.
we do not get what we want nor get away.

he comes home.
a toke.
a cigarette.
transmigration of soul/spirit/self.
the self within ourselves.
he never much understood what that means.
a cup of sea water poured back into the sea.
a vehicle we inhabit in this world until it breaks down and we find another.
bodies within bodies more and more refined to the point of not existing at all.
none of this makes shit sense to him.
how many selves?
how many bodies?
russian dolls to eternity.
he doubts that but if it is absurd it must be true.
we are to find it within.
he searches empty rooms for himself not himself.
he finds no one.
not even a reflection in a mirror.
what happened?

it gets more and more complicated when it should be getting more and more simple.
if it’s not simple then how are the simple to understand?
if the simple cannot understand then what are we doing here the fuck for anyway?
we don’t believe in magick answers.
we want to know exactly what and how otherwise no one has anything to tell us about nothing.
is this a masquerade party?
everybody in costume.
oh boy.
what fun.
not.
not with pain and suffering.
whose idea of a party is that?
how did they get to decide and not us?

no, we are to be thankful for life.
the wise guys tell us the world is nothing and our mortal selves are nothing.
then what the fuck are we doing here besides to work for the pigs till we drop?
fuck the pigs.
let them clean their own goddamn toilets.
it’s a scam scheme.
we are kidnapped by space pirates and brought here against our will to provide slave labor for the reptilian overlords and their master plan to pillage the earth to leave us with nothing.
and the wise guys are in on it telling us make believe stories to distract us from our plight.
we want our lives as we want to enjoy for the time being evermore.

or maybe that’s not right either.
begin again.
i am.
a being ever existing and/or willing itself to exist.
whatever.
it can do anything as there is nothing prohibiting or preventing it from doing so becuz other than itself is void.
so it does everything at once.
everything explodes onto the scene creating spacetime with which to do everything with as it wills the ensuing chaos into ordered patterns to become any countless number of things.
and this i am walks into a maze of mirrors reflecting itself into images of light and shadow with each having their own identity though each is still i am.
these reflecting images exist for mere flashing moments as the i am passes through them creating sustaining destroying them transforming itself through them and their experiences of everything.
and after a while it all runs down to 0 and poofs outta existence.

he lights a cigarette.
none of this might be true.
he’s making it up.
it’s medication time.

dance, everybody, dance

halleluiah.
the gates open wide.
we exit stage left none too soon.
the uniform patrol arrives soon after looking for the deviant among us.
those who have gone astray from the master plan.
disharmony in our heads that will not fit into their ideal perfection.
we must be cast out.
down and out on easy street.
who would have thought we’d feel so complete?
but everything comes and goes as should be obvious to everyone but many pretend it’s otherwise.
slaves building pyramids in the sand.
there can be no above if there is no below.
another thing that should be obvious.
put pieces together every which way until we come to some understanding about it.
it is/is not it.
take it for another spin around the bend and over the hills and far away.
think about it while we go quite mad.
it is what appears to be.
what appears to be is determined by our individual sense of perception against the lowest common denominator collective will manipulated by those in positions of wealth and power.
some perceive more.
some perceive less.
and so on.

their schemes have always been devious.
scarcity and self-interest is their philosophy.
they devastate one place and move on to another.
wherever there’s $$$ to be made.
another promised land to conquer and enslave.
but we have our peace amid the turmoil around us.
an island in the eye of a storm raging on an otherwise calm sea.
the sea is humanity.
the threats of almighty god cannot change it otherwise.
people is people.

we ignore the hoopla whatnot of everything these crazy apes get themselves into for our own self-interest watching them drive themselves outta their minds with all they do.
it’s a circus game of winners and losers all or nothing prize.
no excuses, no exceptions.
you either make it or you don’t with whatever you got.
grab all that you can while it’s there to be grabbed if you can get it.
weasel your way into it somehow whatever you can do that might amuse the masters who are always looking down watching.
total subjugation of humanity.
total economic control over every aspect of our lives.
it all skews a bit sideways.

baby, we were born to run.
into silences of thought crashing through forgotten realities remembered now and again as they come and go from our minds.
there is nothing to it.
run for it.
the pursuit of happiness as fast as we can.
let’s go.
we sit in a meadow of daisies in the sun in the midst of the forest of dreams on the island where it’s rumored a monster lives.
we discuss among ourselves everything we might happen to think about, like tree frogs which none of us knows too much about cuz we’re not that interested besides glancing at cute colorful photos of them poised on a branch that becomes rather ordinary after a while seeing dozens of such.
tree frog overkill.

sitting at the counter in the diner scribbling a not poem about our theory of everything which seems in disarray but only to those who expect everything in rationalogic order which in part everything is and is not.
for all order there is disorder.
it stands to reason.
and they are not separate divided apart but intermingled each shadowing the other such that they become indistinguishable parts of a greater whole which is the gestalt of everything to become a living thinking experiencing organism that has to shit as well as eat and the rest of it.
to place value on one thing and not another is folly we often fall into judging this from that from the other thing on and on spinning the wheels of the machine creating sustaining destroying transforming itself into itself becoming a dragonfly flying away to mate and die and decay into the earth feeding a myriad of organisms continuing life unending.

he knows very little.
he understands much more.
he is not one to be much concerned with many details he leaves it to others to obsess over but ponders glittering generalities of everything altogether at once.
strings in a web connecting the dots woven vibrating wavelength into shape and form of some measure of symmetry thing going on into states of bliss we might experience if we are tuned into it now and then as the mood of the moment allows us to be as guru jeff has instructed us before his sudden departing when we decided we must kill him to perceive through the veils of spacetime parting for us to reveal a reality seeming at first unreal derealized madness until we become accustom to it adjusting ourselves accordingly.

he chews some nicotine gum wanting a cigarette as he farts wiping his nose with his sleeve realizing he needs to poop.
human is as human does.
nothing as virtual stuff potentially existing as everything becoming as it relates to us standing in line at the supermarket checkout giggling to ourselves at the absurdity of it rationalogic cannot explain why this and why not that or the other thing, etc.
ration.
finite.
scarcity.
infinity beyond its grasp forever, according to our theory of everything.
but there is no such thing as infinity except in our intuitive imaginations.
the bitter taste of the gum.
but he likes bitter.

birth life death.
creating sustaining destroying.
transforming.
away we go on and on.
energy wave patterns filling the void.
what we think, say and do changing the world.
rationalogic can’t see the forest for the trees which it measures by the board foot.
rationalogic isn’t the end all of everything.
it describes the mechanics of everything but has no sense of the living life of everything.
irrationalogic, gazorbnik, is needed to further perceive and understand what cannot be calculated by rationalogic.
it hasn’t the depth to reach the spiritual nature of everything but only deals with the physical surface of reality as it appears to ourselves in the state we’re in.
gazorbnik has no problem with rationalogic within its limited scope, but rationalogic has a major problem with gazorbnik and all it categorizes as irrational.
it’s a no win situation with them.
whatever.

we are not in opposition to rationalogic except insofar as it is opposition to us enough to feel we need to be eradicated by any means that might prove necessary to their way of thinking about their master plan to transform the world into earthly paradise for themselves.
but we they shall always have with them.
we are flukes of the universe – random inexplicable glitches of the main program.
their ideals of perfection they attempt to mimic and manufacture.
it’s all death eternal toward oblivion.
dead as a pyramid of stone with a corpse inside it for good measure.
but such it must be like this between us for everything to be everything which perhaps it is not so.
but for all yin there is yang and action/reaction thing.
and inaction is action.
and inaction is reaction.
within yin is yang.
within yang is yin.
within all is tao.
the answer is a riddle.
monkey in the middle.
arf.

as we found out, nothing is real.
everything is nothing but therefore nothing is everything and we have turned ourselves around full cycle.
there is what appears to be.
what exactly that might be or not cannot be known for sure.
we may doubt whether or not it actually is.
is this a problem for anyone?
and we may ask if everything is illusion of the mind then why can we not mold it the way we would desire?
for himself he already has this covered by feeling he does live in a world he would and does desire.
the best and worst of all possible worlds.
he enjoys the fuck outta it – even the scary parts like right now a couple of cars shooting at each other driving by the café where he’s at now and shit like that.

there are so many possibilities he can think of.
think logically, logic man insists.
logic never fails as it swallows its tail spiraling toward its self-annihilation.
all is true.
all is false.
all is along on a continuum between.
how simple can it be?
perhaps too simple?
fuzzy wuzzy.
now there’s nothing but police outside and tv news crews.
he didn’t see nothing.
everyone does what they do even if it’s doing nothing.
it’s all alright as it’s supposed to be cuz it is what it is and if it is supposed to be something else then it would be something else, right?
maybe.
or not.
we cannot be sure about anything.
nope.

he is not as confused as he might seem to be or if he is he is happily confused.
confusion leads us to realization.
do what thou wilt and all that jazz.
be here now.
kick out the jams.
twist and shout, baby.

unconscious magick.
improvise.
know not what you do.
goo goo ga-joob.
this is it.
all systems go.
everyone aboard the mind shift/ship in whatever way any of us might fashion it to be.
he makes coffee.
a toke.
nicotine gum.
be logical.
be reasonable.
straighten up and fly right.
it’s medication time.

there would seem to be in a given society there are x-number of those who are considered mad.
there must be some sort of evolutionary advantage to this being the case with us being a social species.
just as the fact we have emotions and imagination.
and drugs.
and gods.
and cats.
everything we do.
and there are those who are investigating those same subjects and more on and on.

sketches of madness developing though it becomes meaningless for a while sometimes with the radio playing yesterday’s hits from the tomb.
he thinks about everything he doesn’t know about anything he was never much interested in to begin with but everything itself what can possibly be understood about it as it is happening.
he is overjoyed and overwhelmed by how much information is readily available now than ever was though it can complicate matters as he gazes into a maze of mirrors seeing himself in everything everywhere everywhen that may or may not have been or will be doesn’t really matter much to a toad in the road.
he is content to be as he is.
who needs to improve upon perfection?
not perfection that is complete but ongoing changing becoming.
he has patience.
he can wait for it to come if ever or never.
he does not need glorification.
he does not need to become enlightened.
he is doing ok as it is as it develops on its own way.
what mystery always remains regardless of how much we feel we have come to understand.
would we want it any other way?
this is our mission purpose for our existence.
what becomes of us if it ever comes to an end?
how do we continue?
what’s the point?

we are blessed and/or cursed.
we are a mixed up mess either way.
a mob of billions on the face of the earth in the world at large each into their own trip of how they might have learned to perceive what is and what is not as instructed.
how much better can it get or how much worse?
either way we learn to ride with it for our lives.
this world as an expression of ourselves.
ourselves as an expression of the world.

sitting by the window at the café – mocha, orange juice.
scribbling a not poem in a notebook as usual as he does continually.
no matter what might happen to him is inconsequential to all being right in the world as it is with everyone getting their ya-yas out in one form or another for better or worse.
as it may become.
it’s not his problem.
it’s all fun till someone loses an eye.

flash paradise.
beginning with i am.
i am is the one necessary component for existence.
without conscious perception there is nothing no matter what might occur.
but occurring is consciousness.
i am is always eternal with everything passed on being to being throughout receiving processing transmitting.
it’s simple.
but ya gotta think about it.
sometimes ya gotta think about it for a lifetime.

he pets the kitty now he’s home.
a cigarette.
he sees his therapist today.
more drugs?
maybe.
he feels sorta ok though not wanting to be medicated to feel that way but the world drives him nuts.
otherwise the day is his to do nothing.
he eats some cashews.
he picks his nose.

he doesn’t feel he needs to confirm godhead for himself as the wise guys urge us.
he’ll take their word for it.
what does he need with godhead?
he realizes i am on his own.
the i am playing in the world to experience what it is like to be mortal and human.
what a trip it is.
he’ll be glad and sad when it’s over.
glad to be done with all the dada bullshit involved in having to deal with others.
sad not to enjoy the sensations of it as only being a mortal human can.
chewing bazooka.
but maybe he’ll decide to take another shot at it.
if it’s his choice and not some default of the program.
he’d like to think he is not forced into this.
what a thing for a god to do.
but there is no god – not really.
or not.
what does it matter?
it comes out the same either way.

love is the answer.
love is the law.
not love given or taken, but love felt.
he knows no love.
he feels a blank space of indifference.
no direction home.
people bug him.
people amuse him.
he tries to stay outta their way as much as possible.
he’d rather be on his own.
they’d rather he was on his own as well.
he’s such a bother they do not understand what the fuck is wrong with him.
it must be something, they know that much.
he eats a hot dog.

there’s nothing wrong with him at all.
he’s human as humans will be in all diverse varieties of kind.
he is as unique as anyone else except the groupthinkers who all try to act and behave the same.
and they are many.
they get things done.
not always things that need doing but still they get it done.
join us, they tell us.
become one with us.
be happy.
but he sees it’s more a case of misery loves company.

he goes to visit with the therapist.
she pronounces him sane enough, sort of.
he can tell she has her doubts.
she is tall.

coming home he imagines sitting before the computer on a sunny warm spring afternoon hunched over the keyboard typing out the infamous epic not poem about our theory of everything and such.
and report to the committee.
and we are them manifesto.
and shit.

left turning discombobulating widdershins theory.
makes no sense to nobody important enough to know better.
mucky muck intellectuals gathered in their masses.
knowledge for its own sake, never mind the consequences to anyone else – especially if it’s the peasants.
the great unwashed.
the less of them the better.
nothing but trouble.

and gazorbnik saves the day.
the mind shift/ship takes it all away yonder.
ghost shirts.
crossfire of truths.
sitting on a fence.
what does and does not make sense to one another we include in with our theory of everything anyway.
mix it up and turn it around deconstructing down to the ground where we plant both feet and walk away.
if it were that easy does it.
but it is inside our heads outta our minds.
another cigarette.
he imagines a human transformation everywhere on all levels.
or maybe not.
it all becomes destroyed.
enclaves of the wealthy and powerful and their heavily armed trusted minions and underlings.
the rest of us fend for ourselves on a ruined earth.
eat or be eaten.
tribal warfare.
turf.
militia at ready for local takeover.
death to the heretics.

enough with the good life.
out on the street.
refugee.
bum.

the absurd rules according to plan.
just as we expected from long times ago.
at the beginning of the dawn we began to work our magick while the others worked wonders for us.
as it is so now today in the future.
we are them.
the project is ahead of schedule and under budget and near complete according to our cockeyed calculations notwithstanding.
bring it all down to earth.
let us roam as we please gathering what we find useful for our survival or interesting for our amusement making up stories as we wander along toward the promised land in our pursuit of happiness.
1000 years.
but who’s counting?

a different world awaits us.
trials and tribulations.
holy zion has fallen.
year zero.

come as you are.
you will have no other choice.
this broken world half in pieces.
billions dying.
no tender age is this.
no compassion nor sympathy.
grab it all for ourselves what we can of what’s left behind.
we do what we are able.
our self-interest is at stake.
meditate and transcend to higher more refined spheres of endless delights.
naked unafraid – unarmed.
the lion lays down with the lamb and starves to death.
hook and crook.
surrender.
adapt to the situation.
improvise.
die.

our madness will certainly continue no matter what.
we will always be here now.
fortune and misfortune go hand in hand.
the others will never escape.
we direct them with our mysterious ways and means.
as if.

but then we are delusional that way but it seems we are no wackier than some other people’s shit about stuff we would think.
we are dreamers of this wonderful world of good and evil.
dance, everybody, dance.

[=]

when one runs outta dreams.
at the café scribbling in a notebook a not poem cuz he ain’t no poet about our theory of everything disjointed mish mash of whatnot.
nothing is revealed.
there is nothing to be revealed.
nothing we do not know already if we think about it.
waking up with mocha in hand.
cars traveling by outside the window.
disco beat on the stereo.
he wonders about all the misery there is in the world for no reason.
he overcomes it for himself most of the time but when he becomes fearful overwhelmed by thinking turning into dark passages of heart and mind which he has become used to by now happening time to time.
but as he imagines a house by a garden gate on an island in the eye of a storm raging on an otherwise calm sea.
the sea is humanity.
he shipwrecked here years ago in the heights and/or depths of his madness.
no one can do him no harm.
cigarette in hand.

he is empty void.
is this a good thing or bad thing?
he let’s go of most everything he’s had in the past to free himself from bondage to it.
he has a rock in his pocket.
he imagines possessing everything that is and is not.
clouds drifting by laden with rain from the sea on this semi-rainy day with bouts of sunshine.
a dream world.
a world of dreams surrounding him in his isolation.
a visitor to this strange world – or not.
what is he supposed to learn?
decreed by who?
the masters?
fuck them.
what does he want to learn?
not much of anything.
maybe more about tree frogs or how everything works.
he feels pain all around him.
the pain of ignorance on all levels bottom to tippy top of the mass of humanity stuck in this misery world we have created of our own free will.
back when we had the earth to freely wander.

he wanders in his own ignorance not seeking or searching but still coming across bits of information here or there everywhere he goes in his head turning around.
standing on his head standing his ground.
he basks in contentment is all he asks.
he wants none of joy or sorrow nor anything of other extremes of emotion humans feel.
this easy peace.
love is a lost memory.
understanding is unfurling before him as he proceeds along pathless paths toward unknown destinations.

meanwhile he comes home again sitting before the computer gazing out the window at what he can see of the world as it appears to be as it is but he knows better.
hunched over the keyboard he begins typing out words that are ultimately meaningless faced with everything that could be as others have been here in the same situation.
thoughts wild in his head.
they just won’t behave themselves acting all silly.
everything will be forgotten and nothing forgiven.
he leaves no history behind himself as if he isn’t here at all.
and maybe he is not.
who knows?

whatever it might be or not he continues his mission.
he is here for a reason though many would argue that point.
the universe is absurd to them.
let it be so.
it doesn’t much matter to him.
if one’s faith is easily shaken by opposition then it does us no good but actually works against us.
he has faith in his doubts.
he has doubts about his faith.
he is left nowhere (now here).
old and slow.
the clocks are running down.
too much too late.

a toke.
a cigarette.
he is tired.
he’s worn out used up.
they have taken everything from him that they could without taking everything.
or does he do that to himself?
the sun comes out for a while.
he may could have been somebody nobody to fuck with.
but he thinks about that and what a person’s head is like to be that person.
he wants no part of that.
he’d rather be no one with nothing.
he’d rather live in a tub.
but it’s not in his nature nor nurture to be a big somebody – or even a little somebody.
besides, it seems like a lot of work.
he’s too damn lazy for anything like that whether in the real world or spiritual worlds.
he’s quite more or less comfortable where he’s at sitting on the edge of the seat on the ride of his life with periods of quiet contemplation thinking writing imagining becoming.
finally he is absent.
as if not here now at all.
but it will always be with or without him – or not.
or to awaken from a dream to be inside a dream dreaming dreams as infinitely regressive russian dolls forever, amen.
everything unfolds before him.
so much beyond his immediate comprehension.
he’ll have to think about it.
the clouds of heaven parting.
transcending into celestial spheres of fields of energies radiating from everything everywhere everywhen.
the appearance of everything enough to fool our senses into believing its reality until we look through it to see its inward being.
infinitesimal to infinity one and the same or vice versa.
sailing cosmic seas our freak flag flying high higher highest like neptunian gas bag things merrily playing in blue blue atmospheres of home sweet home away from home.
free.

from life to life.
from death to death.
we wander through worlds each different from the last to enjoy the wonders of everything being as real as we can imagine it to be.
we are amazed by our own creating sustaining destroying transforming ourselves ever anew through eternity as long as it lasts in a moment.
a moment divided split to itself in order to conjure up the appearance of reality through continuum waves of complementary polarized opposites in opposition action/reaction yin yang thing to create the contrasting environment necessary for the perception of anything.
infinitesimal binary bits blinking on/off as instructed at random while patterns develop by happenstance fate to become everything that is including ourselves.
spin the wheels one more time.

there are no gods but us.
or not.
we rise above ourselves to become ourselves.
the universe is a gigantic infinite loop of itself through the eye of a needle of spacetime.
or something like that.
a singularity mustard seed.
we perceive through our believing we perceive.
yet we fight our wars among ourselves while some of us find some measure of peace and tranquility enough to actually think about anything we might choose whatever comes to mind.
they are no good to us as we are no good to them.
complementary polarized opposites in opposition blending in the middle along a continuum between until who can tell which is which.
according to our theory of everything as much as we are able to surmise about it being in such a state of mixed up confusion like it is modeling how we speculate everything is in and of itself in actuality if there is such a thing.
to each their own way until unless they interfere with others and then we do something about it if we think we can which in most cases we cannot as evidenced by the statistical results which often are far worse than the original problem and on and on like that for all of human history till now as we proceed along the same lines as before thinking we can fix everything while under the spell of the knowledge of good and evil which causes us to believe there is something to be corrected and improved upon to begin with.
only when this spell is lifted from us for the time being can we begin to truly perceive what perhaps might be reality and adjust ourselves accordingly.
or not.

he has been fortunate enough to be one of these who have had the opportunity to think everything out to what extent we are able considering the circumstances of our particular situations.
still, he feels it has been a complete waste of his time.
yawn.
he chews some bazooka.
he doesn’t know what he wants.
he wants to experience everything he can while not having to actually do anything.
so he spends his time in his head thinking about everything he knows about and/or can imagine perhaps being.
a dreamer of this world – the best and worst of all possible worlds rolled into one.
something for everyone whether they like it or not.
up the ass with a red hot rusted barbwire dildo.
burning ripping flesh.
the audience of the burning theater gasp then cheer wildly at the horrific screaming.
well worth above and beyond the price of admission.
imagine what we will without conflicting restraint.
no reward nor punishment but the pleasure and pain of the self.
into heaven and into hell we go.
in thinking about everything he knows little about anything.
he sacrifices knowing anything for understanding everything.
perhaps a fool’s choice.
oh well.
better luck next time.

goodness and light cannot exist without evil and darkness.
some of us go one way others of us go the other never finding what we seek.
the fault lies in our perception each believing reality can be divided suchwise.
we can’t get there from here.
if we could we’d be there.
but here we are now.
get used to it.
realize this is where when everything is all happening.
think of something that does not exist in reality or imagination.
go ahead.
do it.

he doesn’t know quite why or even how he thinks about anything.
it comes to mind from… ???
a muse?
a god?
the devil?
logic and reason?
random happenstance?
alien mind probes?
who knows?

he thinks about i am.
i am is the thing to be the thing that we are universally the same before any and all distinctions otherwise are made.
i am this.
i am that.
i am the other thing.
etc.
that’s where when we get into trouble for various reasons under the sun.
but it’s all in fun.
everything we have done.
we walk away laughing.
it’s all make believe to us as gods bored with immortal life.
but there’s no turning back.
but we are interconnected mortal and immortal.
one cannot be without the other as is with all duality.
and the continuum between and beyond.
we imagine infinity and behold here it is in blazing glory disappearing further than light can see.
everything interconnected e pluribus unum throughout it all everything everywhere everywhen.
and the infinitesimal which is its own infinity.
and the finite which is its own infinity.
and everything contained within the others.
spiraling cycles never repeating quite the same ever forever.
an entanglement of serpents swallowing each other’s tails.
shazam.

tickets for paradise.
empty pockets.
come as you are to become.
infinity allows for every possibility even the improbable and impossible if need be.
there essentially are no rules – or more correctly there are all rules.
all rules cancel each other out until there are none.
then everything breaks loose.
this is all outside what we know as the spacetime universe which in this context is finite while everything is infinite to the furthest reach of everything infinity might possibly mean.
all in the wink of an eye.

it’s thoughts as these that drive us mad which drives us to have thoughts as these.
around around.
which came first is the social construct distinction of madness without which this whole question would be moot.
the question our madness poses for others who decide whether to agree or disagree with it.
it is supposed and assumed that they are the vast majority so they are the ones who make it so or not so.
but what they collectively decide based upon various criteria about what they are told to believe by who and so on.
but we are content being mad.
we have been fortunate to have received this gift of fate to ourselves.
we couldn’t ask for more – except to win the lottery.

the empty solitude of it pretty much self-imposed upon ourselves to be free from needless drama of the surrounding others in the reality of their lives ongoing in their own social collective madness we all are tangled up in as soon as we are born ever onward through constant psychic bombardments of conflicting information by all media concerns involved with their respective propaganda agency agendas until there is few if any remaining sources we might trust to tell us anything resembling what could be the truth or some such whatever constitutes meaning for us.
for us truth has little meaning though it is an important component of the overall picture we imagine as everything.
we do not view truth as the be all of everything as others consider it to be.
there are other things than truth.

conflicted and conflicting storms of angels and demons of all our desires and fears plague us until we confess our crimes and surrender to our heart’s content upon the altar of our perpetual sacrifice we are meant to act out to fulfill the prosperity of others who stand by and silently watch.
we refuse.
we resist.
we are cast out from among them to the island of misfit toys in the sea of oblivion where we bask relaxing in lazy leisure all day and night passing slow time watching and waiting for nothing that will ever happen.
those days are gone.

heaven and hell help us from ourselves.
we are the cause of our own destruction as we are of our own creating and sustaining.
everything transforming.
everything remains perfectly still relative to what we cannot tell.
there is no such thing as motion.
infinity is unmoveable.
infinity is un-anything.
infinity is not.
there is no spacetime.
there is no universe or world.
there is no ourselves.
we are extinguished by our own reasoning.
we think too much.
we are mad so it doesn’t matter.

as if some metaphysical world appears by magick to our enlightened eye is not necessarily how it works.
view the plain and ordinary to see it is not as plain and ordinary as first it may appear but is transformed by vibrant living energies in everything into extraordinary wonder while remaining unchanged but as unchanged like water not stone.
but stone is water if viewed correctly.

the problem and question of everything has been solved ages ago which formulates our ideas about god being exactly that and none other.
we want to remove this imposter usurper from our thinking and from the thinking of those surrounding us who can become quite dangerous with their interpretations of such a thing as god.
everything as a living being eternal.
a gestalt of everything becoming consciousness.
we ourselves becoming part of this consciousness but not its whole unless we discipline ourselves in tune with it which seems entirely possible on paper.
but there have been along the way those who have used this near unimaginable idea of god for their own interests and economic and political ends over the ignorant and easily led masses.
it is this god that causes us nothing but trouble we oppose.

we do not need to be forgiven by some lord god almighty that is a product of an ancient unenlightened brutal time we should have easily surpassed but for those who hold onto it still.
so many are beaten down by life and are told it is their own fault that the idea of forgiveness is tempting and they are lured in by those who profit from their continuing misery perpetuated by further degrading sermons and such like.
everything without god.
everything just as itself without any supernatural anthropomorphic dada attached to it.

thrown into a world with nothing to go on but how it all appears but with a tingling sense something ain’t quite right about it somehow.
when their answers don’t answer all our questions.
when we are too confused that we cannot formulate the questions needing to be asked.
but this is it.
this is as how it is.
when we are told our reason is unreasonable.
when it is determined by them for us to be mad like that is at all productive for anyone.
can’t they follow our logic in its wandering way about it that arrives at different conclusions or no conclusions?
what’s wrong with them?
are they that stupid?

we lose track of ourselves along our way toward whatever we might happen upon next.
their rationalogic maze of thinking.
our irrationalogic meandering hither and yon this way that way the other way on and on.
but irrationalogic is not a term we like to use though it is what it is as the irrational is not definable nor is our way of thinking.
but the irrational is considered in a negative connotation while the rational is considered to be the correct way for us to be thinking.
there is the rational which is all very good for what it is.
there is the irrational which is taken to mean anti-rational.
so we make up gazorbnik which is more or less the same as irrationalogic but much much more.
it should be stated that gazorbnik is not meant to replace rationalogic but to add to it and to discover aspects of everything rationalogic cannot think about cuz it would break the rules.

the universe is not perhaps as much spherical but amoeba-like wiggling squiggling in the void.
the void of that which we thus far cannot perceive.
the supposed multiverse is of no interest to us.
more russian dolls.
where is the end to it?
watch them dance the hoochie-coo.
we will be forgotten.

a fingertip into a calm quiet pool to create moving rippling waves reflecting light and shadow images to please the eye.
the self within the self and all that jazz.
with no beginning nor end of beginnings and endings everywhere everywhen.
we enter the absurd to be described using the language of the absurd.
a language of hidden meanings like surreal landscapes stopping on a dime.
the higher conspiracies develop along lines of hopeful pleasure.

to the discovery of itself with high distinction disconnected from the ordinary spacetime event fields waiting by the door opening into the sins of the flesh written across damp skies forbidden by decree of mushroom logic devised from tidbits of flavored fear in the café he sits with mocha scribbling sketches of a not poem into a notebook with spiral wire binding empty blue lined pages at a table by the window gazing out at traffic rolling by on wheels spinning around like a tadpole in a jar toward uncertain destinations imagined forthwith succumbing to desires brought about by heroic efforts on the part of the everyperson who happens to come in for coffee to go on their way toward the constitutional misgiving dreaming turning left at the next light where fortune awaits silently becoming misused as a product of dreaming masturbating bear bearing no resemblance to what may have been imagined thus far developing fish fry taken seriously as the emptiness drags on catching breath speaking about the easy remembering of dead grandmothers and broken heads tick tocked inside a closet full of dandelions coming out into the open arms of tomorrow hidden in festering oozing gaping wound in the service of the temple dedicated to successful enterprises of powerful interests sleeping in unmade beds screwed in tight against any circumstances that may disrupt seeking answers of ancient problems best forgotten.
he eats nothing.
he forgets something.
everything calls his name from a list of those destined for oblivion where we celebrate the day from the night gently fading across the sea tossing tumbling mistaken identity wingnuts with masonic ritual notwithstanding the impossible police car crashing through the gates of eden.

to organize the disorderly mob gathering on the field of battle of wits to move mountains.
and this is nothing to sneeze at.
we wonder about certain uncertainties coming over the horizon to share secret identities among ourselves for no obvious other reason than to be mysterious.
the masses are kept distracted from understanding.
their grunt pleasures.
their blank expressions shouting with unspoken rage.
he feels being had by enterprising propaganda machines duking it out for mass control.
but he has always felt suspicious about things he could not name.
he steps out on the patio for a smoke.
overcast sky of dim light.
he is amazed at everything he sees around him no matter how dull and mundane it appears otherwise.
he opens then closes his hand a few times wondering about how he makes that happen by thinking it.
it’s a miracle.
everything is a miracle of some sort.
we just need an eye to see it while others walk on by.
which reality is real?
he is prepared to confess his supposed reality being composed primarily of self-induced fantasy and fiction and much else besides that is not considered correct enough to be a person in good standing among one’s social economic peers as he is.
in death of night to that funky beat.
signals in the dark.
we remain oblivious to one another in our pursuit of self-interest.
a planet full of billions of solipsistoids with dreams clashing canceling out one another until a world is created to become reality.
it’s a miracle.

he is home.
it’s time for a nap.

in another dream

to find our own way through it.
to connect the dots.
but through to what?
through into the heart of the fun machine.
look at us go.

examine the probable evidence notwithstanding other possibilities.
how do we choose to begin to describe that which has no beginning?
where do we end when there is no end?
a moment everlasting continuing.
or not.

it is here now.
we are here now – sort of.
past and future illusions in our delusional minds.
yet time seems to work ok and make a lot of people a lot of $$$.
not like some spaced out old freak living off the benevolence of the state when friends and family turned him away.
we can imagine what actually might be while not directly perceiving it in its entirety or simplicity.
we imagine a plenum of infinitely dense matter to a singularity point of 0 dimensions.
it’s all relative to the subjectivity of the objective observer.
a point that is either on or off or not.
the exact nature of it.
it is it.
it is not it.
creating sustaining destroying.
transforming through it all.
existing here now.
everything everywhere everywhen.

meanwhile, don’t think everything you believe.
other than that we continue with him waking up to the world again imagining himself sitting before the computer typing out a not poem cuz he ain’t no poet about our theory of everything.
a toke.
a cigarette.
a time to consider everything he knows about everything.
not much considering what there is to know about everything.
but maybe he’s got it mixed up?
maybe he need not concern himself with everything?
but why not?
he can’t think of any reason.
he is mad.
he can think about whatever he wants to.

madness has its drawbacks.
for one thing, you are mad.
but it allows many freedoms sanity does not.
sanity is socially determined and caused construct thing.
to have sanity means we conform to the given society we wish to or are forced to belong to.
to be mad means going it alone for the most part.
he dislikes groups – large groups, small groups, it doesn’t matter.
he doesn’t know quite how to function within them.
he’s always on the outer edges.
and he usually doesn’t believe what they believe in to maintain their cohesion as a group.
so he makes it up for himself gathering bits and pieces from the ideas of others to use in a montage philosophy that most would not know how to begin to understand.
he doesn’t know either.
he’s just around around looking at it all that he’s collected so far and to see if it might make some sorta sense if put together in any certain way or not.
so far he hasn’t had much success – though some of dubious nature has occurred along the way.
he feels dubious about many things – mostly himself.
he reads this and that and the other thing about stuff that might help him understand everything.
much of it contradicts other things he’s read and vice versa.
he is free to choose which and what to believe and/or doubt.
he has spent his life doubting for the most part but wanting to believe something – but only if it is true and real.
he wondered how one goes about finding and determining that about anything.
this is what brought him to everything.
if anything is true and real it is everything.
if everything isn’t true and real then nothing is, right?
so, it’s kinda the same thing either way.
and he set himself out to experience everything he could for himself.
he lived a more or less simple life working grunt work and having a family and stuff like that.
he pretended he was an artist and a poet for years before the realization came to him that he was neither.
oh well.
then he went mad, though he has always been mad since he can remember.
then the state saved his ass and he lived happily ever after with all the time he wanted to think about everything which he realized is his true vocation.
and so all that begins.

but he realizes also that everything he knows is very nearly wrong.
he discovers that with everything he’s thought about doesn’t add up to a clue.
he’s at square 1 face to face with this vast ignorance he must now grope his way through.
there is little that might help him as what he seeks is not of this world as he now perceives it.
or so they tell him.
it must be experienced to be known.
we’ll see about that.

but in this course are many paths leading every which way that may arrive at the same point or not.
some may lead away.
he must trust his instinct about it.
or choose every way as he has done before.
he is physically too old and slow for much of it he neglected when he had the chance when he was younger, so he uses his imagination.
that’s the ticket.
spin those wheels one more time.
let’s see where we end up.

and with new realizations of more avenues to understanding everything he is gladdened to continue when everything had seemed to him desperately hopeless previous up till now.
maybe the increase to his medication is working.
the cosmic waves unfurling around him as he proceeds onward or backwards or sideways or whatever may or may not become something or another.
he awaits to become surprised and amazed.
he needs to reorganize and redirect his madness for new adventures to explore perhaps or not.
he must beware of expectations that always breed disappointment and such.
it is urged for him to change his ways.
perhaps to some extent.
have a brighter more hopeful outlook.
all that goody positive shit.
what about evil negative shit?
neither should sway him one way or another.
he’s not much interested in either and is wary of those who are as he is with anyone of any particular persuasion or another.
screw that shit.
school’s for fools.
if he can’t figure it out on his own terms then fuck it.
let the others have their glory they seek following teachings of masters and all that hoopla ilk and such dada dogma doo-doo whiz bang.

butterflies and zebras.
dead butterflies and zebras.
either way should not matter to him and he finds strangely enough that it really doesn’t.
he is ambivalent toward such distinctions realizing both must occur for everything to operate as it does.
simple.
all duality negated.
all continuums collapse.
all becomes one.
one becomes all.
words are practically useless at this point.

but he has nothing but words.
words that ultimately are meaningless.
but it is the way of the mad to babble whatever nonsense comes to our troubled minds.
those who speak do not know.
those who know do not speak.
and all that jazz.
he didn’t make the rules.
he had absolutely no say in any of this whatsoever.

he knows he doesn’t know shit.
it doesn’t bother him much.
should it?
what’s to know?
the answer is a riddle.
a riddle of more questions than one can shake a stick at.

open/close.
he tries it another way.
probably the “wrong” way.
he won’t parade with head held high above the rest.
he’ll creep in the dark corners of his own mind giggling at the absurdity of it.

he refuses to take any of this business seriously, often to his detriment.
he cannot bring himself to it.
if we can’t laugh at god then what can we laugh at?
what a joke.
take a toke.
at times he wishes to spit in god’s face.
he wants to piss on god’s unmarked grave.
he will never never worship that asshole ever.
why doesn’t god worship us?
are we such horrible creatures it created on purpose?
what a fucked up mess.

the way he imagines must not be.
it is too absurd against their rationalogic reason that makes $$$ for them who follow that path.
our ways seem impossible given our nature as competitive self-interested brutes.
and it is true.
they never will achieve it as we have.
it is it.

and we are scorned for this.
we are openly insulted to our face.
we are shunned and cast out.
fuck their misery loves company scam schemes.
we’d rather die out on our own.

breathe…

???
the absurdity of it continues.
this way and that way and the other way on and on.
spinning wheels.
mistakes will be made.
he has no confusion about that.
in conversation with himself thinking what he is writing what he is thinking.
as if there is anything there at all to consider.
medication time.

quickening doubts.
twists and shouts.
angels and demons in his head trying to convince him their way or the highway.
let them have their war with one another.
what does it have to do with him and his wandering pursuit of happiness?
the destination is the journey or vice versa or some such.
pathless paths.
the random synchronicities.
the voices in conversations in his head.
he listens for the one most difficult to understand.
silence.
he cannot hear it except he can imagine it.
silence is the expression of eternal bliss consciousness, if one is into that sort of thing.
the self bathing in the self bathing in the self… if you think about it.
gone back to the 0 dimension singularity.

if that is the goal then he’ll take his time getting there.
but maybe not.
but he is already there cuz there is here now.
the 0 dimension singularity radiating everything everywhere everywhen.
to be and/or not be.
the answer is a riddle playing a fiddle for the monkey in the middle.
dance, monkey, dance.

he’s pooped.
he lights a cigarette.
his heart belongs to hello kitty.
his mind belongs to everything.
his self belongs to nothing.

he farts.
it smells.
he wonders about the wonders of the known universe not much impressed with the displays of special effects that wow the crowd generated to produce this illusion.
not when so many suffer becuz of it.
the proof is in the pudding.
nazi-zionist illuminati secret chief reptilian overlords dictating the world at large.
we are nothing.
he is something.
he has his secrets he’s not telling anyone too.
secrets madness revels.
he savors them with the tongue of his mind gone sideways from the usual scheme of things in general among the population who refuse to understand but party hardy and rah rah rah for our side and such.

a sign from heaven or hell.
both each are silent.
he cannot decide which he might wanna side with.
both each have their fair share of assholes promoting their cause.
what is their true nature and purpose?
he can’t know everything.
not like how others claim they do proudly boasting their accomplishments in this regard.
he has many doubts but nothing to counter with that is accepted within their exclusive rationalogic reasoning they hold dear to.
he lights a meditative cigarette.
nothing can do him no harm.
until he puts it out.
then everything breaks loose again.
wheee… ???

reflex mind.
action/reaction.
yin yang thing.
this is not the way to go.
go away from us.
nothing for you here but cornfusion.
you don’t wanna mess with that.
leave it up to the professionals.
opening up a can of worms is serious business.
it takes a steady mind and shakey hand.
it takes quack-a-whack-a-doodle all day.
no one understands but to dismiss our supposed irrationalogic without a thought otherwise.
without a clue.
without a voice but a legion of the fuckers inside his head yakking it up for his confused amusement.
he laughs at and with them.

he feels within.
deep penetration like alien anl probe in the dead of night in a dream.
peace.
calm.
relax.
this won’t hurt a bit.
ouch?

broken splinters of mind over matter thing-a-ma-bob thing.
he works with what he’s been given by fate and karma and such.
not playing with a full deck.
so that goes with a bang.
they want him and his kind eliminated.
the ones with too many questions.
the ones with too many doubts.
we’ll come back in more favorable times if they might ever occur which we have our doubts about that.
he’s duped himself all his life.
the chickens come home to roost.
now he sizes up the situation  and is uncertain what to do.
which side to join?
why must that be the only choice given by the others of this world?
they are held bound by its spells and promises.
everything will be better we are told.
work harder and we will achieve our goal and receive our reward.
life in heaven.
don’t even think about it.
you’ll spoil it for yourselves.
full speed ahead, comrades.
be prepared.

his busy mind always thinking up new tricks for itself.
mind outta control.
mind free to its own devices.
mind that couldn’t care less.
his secretive mind that will not reveal what it knows or not.
not unless he has the codeword.
gazorbnik unlocking any door – every door.
maybe not necessarily all at once.
the resulting light and darkness would be blinding.
that is what we are composed of.
that is what we perceive.
we are idiots stumbling through the attic for hidden treasures we wouldn’t know what to do with.
medication time.
he has to poop too.

mission accomplished.
now to carry on.

um… what?

awakening from a long long sleep.
he makes tea.
a toke.
a cigarette.
thinking about everything sideways.

monkeys.
nothing but monkeys.
living in a trailer park in an area of town commonly referred to as felony flats.
life on the other side of this life.
digging it.
if you’re not digging it then why are you doing it? – guru jeff.

choice is not always an option.
fate delivers what it will.
nature nurture karma thing having its part in the mixed up mix of ourselves.
everything is as it is according to certain sets of given parameters that create the illusion of this world as reality.
at the center of an infinite universe.

things in his head that are irrelevant to anything.
things in his head that make anything irrelevant.
it’s all love and fear and loathing.
it’s all radiating in cosmic waves throughout the universe.
what do we know?
what does he know about what we know?
what do we know about what we know?
everyone processing all sorts of information worldwide from scribbling on paper to massive computer networks.
what does it all mean?
gazorbnik, that’s what.
hahaha.
nobody gets it but us.
there’s a few more surprises yet to come.
hang on to your fright wigs, people.
full speed down a rocky road straight to heck.
not even hell will have us.
we are them.

he lights another cigarette.
thinking deep shallow thoughts.
it’s all he knows having not been paying attention when he should have been nor does he still.
lack of interest.
he’s not into shit like other people are into shit.
just into everything as much as he can grasp with his simple mind.
he figures that’s enough.
cold and rainy day.
he’s not all here now.
that’s the thing of it.
one of the things of it.
it is it.
it consciousness.
the primordial spark of being.
it comes and goes.
changing changelessness.
action through inaction.
e=mc².
and all that jazz.
and he needs to sleep again.
and there’s dishes to put into the machine.

late after a nap –
and there so many people who just don’t understand one another.
or understand one another far too well.
he understands and does not understand.
nor do many understand themselves.
he has little understanding of himself either.
the sun is out now.
bipolar weather.
spring.
what to doubt and what not to doubt.
a bullet can end the world.
put it out of its misery.
zoom in on the world and see all the needless suffering when there is pain enough already.
interesting.
zoom out into blissful oblivion.

a rotten fallen tree laying taking root as its branches unfurl themselves upward.
eternal life.
everything in fluctuation.
new life from old.
observe.
understand.
understand the anger and hatred there is among us.
anger and hatred of each other and the deeper anger and hatred of ourselves.
understand that within ourselves.
understand that within each other.
everything is change.
everything is redundant.
typing out whatever comes to mind at the moment into a not poem about our theory of everything.
the blues come to town.
time of non-thought.
another cigarette.
sleep.

awake again.
the drama continues with the problems he tries to stay out of.
he has no idea how they might be resolved except people just chill out getting so excited.
we are our own undoing.
he thinks about how he will not remember any of this.
it’ll all be gone as if it never was.
so why bother with any of it?
let it go its own way.
he doesn’t know anything else he might be able to do about it.
not with these people as they are.
not with himself as he is.
what’s the point?
no one gives a shit.

people are weird.
he’s never been able to quite figure them out what they’re about very much why they do this or that or the other thing and on and on.
seeking a place to hang their hat where when it’s cool.
becoming bored with that and seeking fun and excitement until that becomes too much.
around around they go.
the nature of the beast.
he’s never been able to figure himself out either why he does this or that or the other thing cuz it seems like the thing to do at the time.
people destructive to themselves and each other.
he can barely tolerate the vibrations of despair and suffering emanating from them constantly when he is out among them.
so he mostly stays at home with himself and his baby and the fat black cat.

he doesn’t trust people much.
they are not reliable in the condition they are in always wavering and arguing about everything there is.
he reaches for his own peace, love and understanding as he might find it however he will or won’t as it comes and goes as waves on a beach of an island in the eye of a storm raging on an otherwise calm sea.
the sea is humanity.
this is where he imagines himself watching the waves roll in and wash out as they will and waiting for an eternity in a moment.
all things must pass as is their nature.
nothing really exists anyway so what does it matter?
it matters not.
ever-flowing kaleidoscope of diamond light and shadow images mesmerizing us into a dream where everything is real.
how absurd.
he laughs at the thought of this being.
everything is absurd.
everything is nothing.
nothing is everything.
the answer is a riddle.
it’s in our mind.
our mind over matter.

and he should know about these things he questions.
if he paid more attention perhaps.
or he should have known instinctively from birth.
we shouldn’t be left abandoned here in ignorance about things it is important that we understand for our wellbeing and wellbeing of others.
but how else do the gods find their amusement but through our antics they gaze from afar?
all could be and should be different.
all equal to all.
none above another.
but that’s not how it is.
that’s how it will never be.
being all through it as much as his simple mind can fathom and he doesn’t get it.
he’ll never understand ever it seems to him now.
he could gain enlightened godhead this instant and still be a dumb fuck as much as always.
he holds no hope for that.

he is lost.
he is found.
he doesn’t know which.
sometimes it seems one and sometimes seems the other.
how is one to tell?
life is the same either way as not being fair.
boo-fucking-hoo.
he is not complaining as much as he just doesn’t understand.
he sees no way to it though there are those who promise answers but you have to get involved in their whole groupthink trip of whatever and of course give them $$$.
110% commitment.
devotees devoted to devotion.
he’s not been much into that sort of thing mostly.
it makes him feel silly.
he likes his homegrown shit for all it is and all it is not as useless as it may seem to others.
he has nothing for anyone.
they are on their own.
he is on his own it would seem as well.

what to make of all this.
what is it?
a dream in our minds?
what minds?
our minds in the dream.
nothing is impossible unless forbidden by certain set conditions of a particular given reality.
this and not that.
that and not this.
an infinite number of universes and beyond.
spin the wheels one more time.

nosey neighbors spying through cracked blinds keeping track of infractions against the unspoken rules by others.
no one minds their own business.
everyone has something to say about it.
the social drama of it.
such a waste of time when we could be discussing the nature of everything to see what we might come up with that rings true enough for our purposes.
who knows what could happen?
we might actually agree on things despite how much we are told otherwise by those who have a vested interest in keeping us divided and conquered.
$$$.
it all comes back to that.
$$$ is an economic tool to simplify our transactions with one another for our wants and needs in our pursuit of happiness and such.
it should flow among us equally more or less.
but there are those of us who build dams to hold it all for themselves keeping it from the rest of us.
such a waste of time and energy that only increases friction among us such that it is nearly impossible for us to get along.
a perfect cooperative communal world is probably not possible but we don’t even make an attempt to realize it even in part.
it cannot be enforced.
people will reject it outright for that reason alone no matter what possible benefits they might gain from it.
it should swell from the ground up and take over the hearts and minds of the population until it reaches critical mass and becomes itself fully realized.
like that’ll ever happen.
it is easily quashed by a guarded attentive regime of wealth and power and those invested in maintaining it that way cuz they feel they too might climb to the top and rule over others and get their own way.
children.
they do not know any better.
they cannot nor will not think beyond their own selfish greed.
they do not question that might makes right.
they do not question that things might be different.
their way is TRUTH.
oh well.
it was fun while it lasted.

we assume that in the beginning there was nothing.
we assume first of all that there was a beginning no matter how we envision how it might have been.
if there is infinity then there is no beginning nor end.
if everything is everything then there must be infinity.
everything and nothing are two sides of the same coin flipping up in the air in a state of probability.
we watch and wait.
will it ever be decided one way or another?
we doubt that.
as everything exists as it is in this probability state continuum thing of indecision.
that is how everything appears to exist while not actually existing or some such.
so, we have a continuing state of probability appearing as reality.
we cannot say it is one thing nor another as it all stands now.
but now is all there is whether now is yesterday or tomorrow or whenever.
it exists the same.
eternity is now.

and what else do we propose with our theory of everything?
everything is in cycles vibrating from every possible location and beyond never repeating the same though similar enough to be perceived by our naked eye to be the same.
the variations may be infinitesimal beyond our natural vision.
these such things appear to us as being solid.
for all intents and purposes they might as well be.
though if we think about it we realize that they are not but that realization does little to aid us as we relate to the world which is one of a kind best and worst of all possible worlds that may cause us the greatest pleasure or pain on a whim expressed as fate.
it is possible that the world is a collective creation of all our minds, which may be one mind according to some theories among us.
we have little invested in it being one or the other – one or many minds.
it works for us either way.
why not both?
one thing cannot be two things, cries the logic man.
we laugh.

we experience therefore we exist?
that might be one way to put it, though others will undoubtedly argue about it as they enjoy doing.
i am that i am is another way to express it.
or it is it.
or gazorbnik.
whatever.
we each make it up for ourselves individually influenced by how it is collectively made up by the others.
we steal ideas from whatever sources we might come across as they are useful to us in some way or another.
we gather them and try to fit them together into our own scheme of things that works for us.

then there is the solipsist solution to everything.
it makes it so much easier.
we exist because we say so and no one else may question us cuz we are all only what exists – so there.
but we have our doubts.
but maybe not.

anyway, so here we are all of us together in disarray it seems.
but is everything not in disarray?
why should it be in perfect order as many theories hold to be true?
and why not both?
dualities are not necessarily binary as many theories hold to be true.
they are continuums from one binary pole to its opposite.
these poles have no value other than being opposite.
opposites in opposition.
complementary opposites.
or both.
sigh.
this gets wearisome thinking this shit that few and far between might possibly understand while the world goes mad.
oh well.

another cigarette is called for.
he lights one up.
ahhh…
meanwhile we are thinking about the exact natural role tree frogs might play in the function of turning galaxies.
will this ever be calculated by super-über-duber logic machine minds?
perhaps.
but our mission never ends until eternity is no more.
even death does not seem to hinder us but in fact aid us in our pursuit.
to evolve one mind to another perhaps according to some theories.
whatever may come to be will come to be.
maybe many things will come to be.
all everyone’s idea of it coming true.
is that not this world already?
ideas of reality competing adapting to fit and survive and possibly thrive.
the losers meet with oblivion.
a world not complete but always under construction deconstruction reconstruction and such.
a world we know is always changing from all of our observations.

this is roughly a draft outline sketch of our theory of everything.
we could be entirely wrong.
that’s what makes it a theory, not truth.
but to us all truth is theory until all the data is in which it probably never will be ever never.
as it is they bend their truths for their convenience when necessary to meet the demands of newly discovered evidence to the contrary.
but for many truth is the only answer they will accept.
they are not amused with answers being riddles of more questions.
they won’t put up with theory.
it must be absolute truth not only for themselves but in their minds universally for all everyone to subscribe to and obey without any more fucking questions, goddamn it.
we have nothing to counter to that state of thinking.
everything we know is wrong according to them.
we cannot win.
we cannot even compromise.
for them it’s all or nothing.
thank the gods that may or may not be that we don’t think like they do.
how sad and frightening that would be.

but it seems that the truth believers have an advantage over the rest of us.
they are able to organize and take over the world as they have done.
only a rival counter truth might rise up against them and take their place.
another paradigm whose turn has come.
we however are hopelessly helpless in this regard of domination and control.
first of all we don’t want it even if it were an available option for us.
that is not how our theory of everything works.
action through inaction sort of.
we endure with the possibility that we will continue to be among them whether they or we like it or not.
it doesn’t matter if we do or not.
only that we are here now and we influence what we can in our favor.
in everybody’s favor if they would just stop and think about it.
our way is one way becuz it is all ways.
simple.
adapt and survive.
we are basically parasitic in nature.
we feed off the host while doing little benefit – nor harm.
but are not parasites god’s creatures too?
don’t they deserve their place in heaven?
we happen to think so – but only becuz we are them.

to be continued…

kinda like being insane, isn’t it?

unlimited horizons to cross.
unlimited information to gather what might be known among us all.
the tourists for the weekend in this desperate land.
and sometimes he can’t think worth shit no matter he thinks all the time about goody goody wise guys and their directives to keep us on the correct path away from the dark side of another meaningless duality thing that is laughable to those with true all-encompassing enlightened vision who find peace with everything at once even that which to others seems to be in contradiction and conflict.
such a simple thing but the wise guys would have us believe otherwise cuz that way they can make $$$ off of it.
stupid fuckers.
but we could be wrong.
that’s the thing that divides us from the herd of those professing knowledge of eternal truth with no room for error.
those hopeless fools who don’t fool us who rely on our own experience not some dogma dada of utter nonsense of purity and goodness and all that rot – or the proponents of the opposite values as their truth the same.
how these idiots come up with this shit from our most primal instincts of avoiding pain and seeking pleasure to formulate a philosophy.
we need to avoid these people as much as possible from all denominations of belief in the same shit centuries old directing us to the ruination of the earth as paradise gone perhaps forever replaced with this world of their confusion with themselves.
he has played the madperson for the benefit of their lack of understanding and incomprehension of his nature among them with their rules about this and that and the other thing according to their limited perception of what is and what is not defined in rationalogic terms of surrender.
he laughs at this.
it is their loss and his gain playing the fool that they might be unaware of his true identity which must remain secret until a time to come when they might be ready.
this is his delusion.
he laughs again.
what a silly pointless joke it is.
a joke they fall for each time around.
he pretends this is so.
he makes believe possibility out of a hat.
just another excuse for being an idiot – his pride and joy in himself.
let them think him too stupid to think as correctly like they do with their refined minds.
lockstep regimented groupthink dogma doo-doo.
they have no mind of their own.
monkey see, monkey do.
monkey in the middle of a riddle.
what a pickle.
what are we to do with them?
let them destroy themselves if that is what they desire and fear in their hearts.
why should we care?
it has no bearing on our personal evolution.
we fit in where and when we fit in.
no big deal if we do or not.
we take on lives rejected by others who feel themselves much too important.
they are on a quest for truth when truth is in everything.
no new worlds but this one with new vision to transform it to our specifications.
breathe.
the heart beats.
living life.
a rock in the ground.
a tree reaching for the sun.
we are here to show there are other ways to it but the ancient dead end prescriptions.
madness is a virtue.
madness is a blessing – with a curse.
a blessing to ourselves, a curse to others and how they treat us in their ignorance.
there is nothing we might not accomplish with madness.
we must be brave and find courage despite the fear invoked upon us by the others.
pretty pretty doggie.
he is tired of it all the entangled dada bullshit of it fucking itself over and over becuz it can and they have no will to stop it and maybe think about it for a moment or 3 and perhaps decide to choose a different course than banging their heads against the wall of their own reality.
he’s tired of complaining but is more tired of there being things to complain about that they create where there was nothing before.
he moves through it.
he is mindful of his prayers to no god of the daily sacrifice of others for his wellbeing while also toward others who have set themselves against him and his kind which there is no one of his kind ever except those individually unique enough to not belong.
as he feels further insulted by what he reads by the wise guys of every ilk he knows of he wonders if there is anyone anywhere who does not have this sense of superiority and privilege to themselves to hold above the others deemed as ignorant and wrong inferiors.
as he imagines himself at the café drinking a mocha scribbling in a notebook about whatever whatnot as it comes to mind.
he enjoys his life as scary and depressing as it gets at times without the grandeur and glory others seek to appease themselves with to the detriment of the rest of us and themselves included.
what’s the big deal with that?
inflated ego world.
he enjoys his life without the fuss and bother others create around themselves.
he could happily remain the last only person on earth.
he enjoys his life sublime with madness as it is deemed by others who know nothing about it except it displeases and offends them becuz the mad speak the truth and they need to categorize us as different and other to make their phony reality scheme work.
people are strange creatures.
language is lasagna from outer space.
he tries to think.
our thinking ain’t no good the wise guys claim.
our minds work against us.
what the fuck?
what’s the deal with that besides of course they don’t want us to think about what we are being told?
he’ll rage against this forever no matter the “reasonable” justifications given for it or the punishments threatened.
it’s fucked up – period.
he cannot believe in it.
he sees no reason for it but the basic primal unthinking instinct behind it that it is composed of.
its all about winners and losers in competition.
that’s the only concept they seem to be able to comprehend and believe is truth and reality.
are they that fucking stupid?
it would seem so from what he has observed all this time.
as this is the situation with the others he avoids them as much as is possible.
fuck them.
he pities them and their limited idea of what constitutes enlightenment which seems to be their only concern is whatever aids them in their grab for wealth and power.
what a buncha clowns.
he laughs.
they wouldn’t know true enlightenment even if it slapped them silly.
he laughs some more.
the world is a circus and he has a ringside seat to enjoy their antics against one another over who can gain over who among us on their way to the tippy top of the hill like playground days at the indoctrination center.
as he rags on bats in the belfry.
he has his peace.
he has his torment.
he has his mortal living life the gods themselves envy.
everything we know is wrong.
that is square 1.
begin again.
think about it.
think about what we are being told from any and every source and why.
deconstruct the message.
what do they gain?
what do we lose?
pliable realities in our hands.
shape it as we will.
but we need to 1st command the will to what we wish.
but we need to 1st know what we wish – and why.
why desire?
why fear?
why anything?
action through inaction.
isn’t that the mystic path toward nirvana?
who wants nirvana?
blissful boredom.
we couldn’t wait to get outta there fast enough.
to land in a world that is the best and the worst of all possible worlds.
a cosmic amusement park.
an impeccable reality simulation.
dreams come true.
but forget all that.
forget everything we might try to tell you.
it’s a product of our supposed madness as diagnosed by those authorized to do so by some upstanding institution but also generally recognized by the public sector at large.
that’s their problem they make into our being the problem needing to be corrected and/or eliminated by any and all means possible.
good luck with that, assholes.
the problem is one of perception by the others their rigid view of reality that will not compromise until it shatters apart.
their rationalogic reasoning and comprehension cannot calculate and deduce true nature.
this is not to state that rationalogic does not perceive truth and perhaps one and only truth in a certain sense of definition.
rationalogic is an integral part of our thinking but not the only component as being there are several up toward infinity and beyond.
fantasy is another integral component.
and on and so on.
the gods favor our endeavors.
we are them.
please, pass the ketchup.
all this world of ironic sarcastic wry humor of fate and then some.
we have not ever before been in such a state of unknowing confusion that we can remember as such.
we feel our way through the darkness of it dreading each moment with its possible unexpected surprise that could go any which way for us or against us as it is fated to become as it will.
we sail the seas on a ship of fools.
we fly high higher highest kissing the sky of stars and galaxies that might not ever exist as we know it.
what do we know?
perhaps nothing.
perhaps everything.
how do we know what is which?
does it matter if we do or not?
what matters is ourselves experiencing everything as we imagine it possibly being and such.
a mad god laughing screaming alone in the void inside his head.
imagine that in a hat.
it’s where it’s at.
he comes to that realization early on in his career as an intellectual and philosopher.
what to do with it?
what not to do with it?
to not ask why.
to not ask anything of anyone anywhere anytime.
to know what we need to know for whatever reason as it fits into this karmic melodrama surrounding us we are supposed to be some sort of functioning part of according to those who are merely shadow fictions of themselves we invent so we will have company in our solitude of existing as even a shadow fiction of ourselves.
cuz we’re on a groove sometimes as it is shaking it up and shaking it down.
shaking it all around this town.
our glory comes and goes from heaven and hell.
but as yet we endure till our time is come.
what we believe and doubt along the way as we see fits the occasion.
the situational ethical thing to do.
we cannot save anyone.
to each their own.
reality is ours for the taking.
baked chicken with smashed potatoes with country gravy.
a ginger ale.
to not be perceived with senses.
to be perceived with imagination – if even that.
the invisible visible everyday world out of the ordinary.
kinda like being insane, isn’t it?

love?

we seem to have disappointed many who feel perhaps we do not have the answers they are looking for.
oh well.
the answers we have found are riddles of more questions.
back into the grind of it.
thinking much too much and all that jazz.
people aren’t ready for it.
turning spinning houses.
we are built for times like this.
eat or be eaten.
logic never fails.
time is $$$.
and so on into the night.
better late than never.
we are very much late.
we’re holding up the whole show.
the others are annoyed.
but there was music playing and we got taken away.
we are really not supposed to be here but here we are.
it’s complicated.
deal with it, baby.

love, love and more love.
suckers born every minute.
get into the groove of it.
get taken for all you’re worth and then some.
but continue to love.
lovey dovey.
love is the key to open all doors.
this is what the wise guys claim.
but what is love?
what is hate and all other emotion?
what makes love so fucking special?
fucking hippies smoking all that dope is what that is.
round ’em up.
get ’em outta here.
he lights another cigarette.
the love/hate duality.
yin yang turning spinning.
see it everywhere everywhen.
in a puddle of mud with chemical rainbow sheen.
gaze into your reflection.
narcissus in a toxic waste dump.
someone should call his name but he never answers.
we walk away.

no one gives a shit.
not that we are able to determine thus far.
we are made to feel so helpless – useless.
nothing ever changes except who holds the wealth and power at any given moment.
for us life is the same.
mundane lives in a mundane world where light is dim.
like living in a cave entrapped against our will imprisoned lied to misled.
it’s all part of the game.
winners and losers.
the few winners and the many losers.
and the winners enjoy the spoils.
the losers beg in the street.
what a fine upstanding world this is.
what a fine mess we gotten ourselves into.
he believes in love but doesn’t believe those who profess love.
he feels nothing from them.
holier than thou.
more loving than thou.
love is not a competition.
it is free for all.
choose or not choose.

he loves all.
all is as it should be – sorta but not really.
all is as it is – sadly.
he loves satan and all the demons in hell on earth.
he loves killers rapists torturers, etc.
he loves and he loves for all the good it does.
nobody wants love.
love don’t pay no bills.
give ’em $$$.
that’s what they want.
this is what has become of us from our greed.
greed for all things.

enjoying a gray sunny day in the café wondering why it always turns out that we are the dumb fucks of the universe who need to become enlightened and shit.
we should be born enlightened is what he thinks – yes?
that would make things far more simpler for all concerned.
but who then would the wise guys have seeking their guidance?
they’d be out of a job – useless.
the whole institution would be obsolete.
wouldn’t that be wonderful?
imagine no one degrading us telling us how ignorant and stupid we are.
but it’s a game they play with us as their expendable pieces.
a game rigged in their favor to maintain their positions on high above us pulling strings.
and we refuse.
we resist.
we participate as little as we can get away with while they control all the resources we need to survive.
there’s no place to go anymore.
they “own” the world.
we endure what we can while we can.
some of us opt out.
others stay in it trying to change it but it is ingrained into our nature and nurture reinforced by indoctrination.
one power elite who promise us they are on our side replaces another.
it needs to be torn down to the ground.
the very foundation needs to be torn up or we will only rebuild what has been.
why build anything at all?
that seems to be the crux of the problem.
all our plans for improvement that only make matters worse in practice.
bring it down to level.
our feet on the ground.
a lament will rise about the wonders of our civilizations now gone reclaimed by the earth.
there will be those who will want to put the pieces back together again.
we must not listen to them.
we must not allow them to mislead us as they have before with promises of better tomorrows and shit.
fuck that noise.
fuck them.
fuck us if we heed their words.
we wander the earth naked unafraid.
relax.
enjoy.

but what does being enlightened mean anyway?
knowing truth?
knowing god?
and shit.
truth/god is a rock in his pocket.
he’s got it covered.
or else it’s a deep dark secret known only to an elite elect to meager out to us ignorant folk kept in the dark as it pleases them.
you decide.

it’s a bullshit scam.
a set up that needs us to play the fools.
and we willingly play into it going to them begging for salvation.
save yourselves, fuckers.
get up off your knees.
turn your backs.
walk away.
become.
but who pays any attention to us?
we are mad.
we babble meaningless nonsense of our confused minds.
hahaha.
let them believe what they will while we sit in a garden watching waiting.
no one shows up.
we expect no one.
no one is clever or crazy enough.
they follow the ancient outdated ways dressed up as something new and different.
they have no memory so they are easily deceived and taken for all they are worth $$$ and soul.
it’s sad to see but what are we to do?
this is what we do.
so it goes.

but to continue the not poem he writes about our theory of everything on and on explaining nothing as there is nothing to explain that others do not experience for themselves in some manner or another.
or so the theory goes like that.
but it is about how we individually think and feel about our experience that makes the difference.
the differences in what we think and feel about whatever.
why one of us gets it while others do not.
the few and far between.
he doesn’t know how or why.
it shouldn’t be this way but it seems to be.
makes him wanna destroy it all in the name of love.
love guns.
love bombs.
we’re taking over.
gonna set you free whether you wanna be or not.
no more mr. nice guy.

outside the kidnapped paranoia shouts a county biscuit

as a spaceship hovers nearby he imagines himself sitting before the computer hunched over the keyboard typing out a not poem cuz he ain’t no poet about our theory of everything.
first, there is no first.
there is no beginning nor end but as the universe is finitely perceived but not as it is infinitely felt to be.
infinity in all directions – over under sideways down.
what is beauty?
what is ugly?
what absurd questions.
the subjective relative thing.
objectivity is a thing of the past.
ain’t no such thing.
even god is not objective.
it is that which it is and will always adopt that particular subjective view of everything that is – even and especially if everything is itself.
dig?
so we can throw objectivity out the window.
we experience everything as self though the self may be illusion.
we make reality work either for us or against us depending on our state of mind of the moment.
let’s go surfing now.
everybody’s learning how.
the primarily male dominated hierarchical social structure though women have their role in it proving they can be asshole pigs as well.
the male sky gods dominate.
the earth mother god subdued.
what has become of us this way?
what but our greed.
more more more.
more for the needy.
everybody in need.
everybody must be fed.
everybody with a place to sleep.
but the wealthy power elite will have none of it.
all is theirs.
they must possess it.
ain’t nothing we can do but rise up and kill them all.
that’ll do it.
hahaha.
fat chance.
sweet romance.
sweet oblivion take us down.
down beneath the ground.
let’s see what might be found.

he could never decide what he wants.
sitting on a fence.
waiting for it to make some sense.
at times it becomes quite intense.
he’s on the ride of his life.
through the conflict and strife.
balanced on the edge of a knife.
a cloudy day of passing showers.
what to do to pass the hours.
kiss the flowers one by one.
pretend we’re having fun.
maybe we’ll meet on the run.
there sure ain’t gonna be a jubilee to come.
nothing will make us free except to go on a killing spree.
what about you?

enlightenment comes and goes.
one moment we’re shining.
the next we’re dumb as a rock.
yet rocks are wise old souls.
long slow deep thought.
when he dies he wants to come back as a rock.
or maybe a tree.
self-sufficient uncaring unconcerned.
but these are probably reserved for the elite elect like everything else worth a shit.
they keep to themselves telling us we wouldn’t understand being so fucking ignorant and all that bullshit they justify their exalted positions above us looking down with pity and disgust.
but it’s alright.
we’re doing fine most of the time though there are moments when not.
they come and go.
the full range of emotion the wise guys tell us is inappropriate behavior for attaining realization.
fuck that.
we feel what we feel and never mind how uncomfortable it makes others feel.
let them medicate themselves instead of us to get over it.
so many real problems in the world and they make up new unnecessary ones besides.
who cares if they don’t like our rock and roll lifestyle?

we fly high.
we fly low.
we dig it everywhere we go.
so much joy to be had.
living this desperate life ain’t so bad.
up and down all around.
all around town.
this is us.
they are us who divide themselves exclusively apart.
fuckers.
cuz they won all the $$$ they feel they’re hot shit.
there ain’t nothing to be done about them.
greedy pigs have no pride and feel they got nothing to hide but it shows and it blows.
blowing out in the wind.

holy people suck with pretention.
holier than the rest of us.
and millions agree and follow their command.
we steal from them what we might find somewhat useful in our schemes included in with our theory of everything.
we put it together whichever way it fits in our skew of it.
children returning home from the indoctrination center.
we make up the rest to pretend.
our fantasies of ourselves.
it hails outside beneath a dark cloud.
night will fall early tonight.
he will too.
he is already sleepy.

what are the limits to our freedom?
freedom isn’t what we demand for ourselves, but what we allow for others – guru jeff.
what do we endure?
fate throwing spanners in the works of our plans otherwise.
life has to keep going anyway.
no time for slackers like us.
something different occurs.
we appear from nowhere anywhere at any time.
a buncha freaks.
mutant children of the sunrise.
surprise.
here we are now not knowing quite what to do with ourselves.
not knowing what we want – peace or excitement.
we have little ambition but to dream ourselves away from ourselves cuz we are mad that way with promises of love and devotion notwithstanding regardless we dance on our graves sideways to the normative value of our distress in these uncertain times acting out the same tired dramas of old with pretty new faces of the damned and unafraid with no more to lose against tides of those opposed to any opposition to their demands of justice delving heights yonder over the horizon where shadows turn backwards undergoing tumultuous endeavors heretofore mentioned in passing by ghost chipmunks thinking themselves pleasantly amused by outcomes of misfortune otherwise surrendering to themselves again to the advertised powers that be gigantic cock sucking contest whistle blowing cosmonauts all in a row about something now best forgotten by children of all ages sequestered inside a cracker box of flavor jumping for joy everlasting until the final hour has struck too soon too late unable to make up our minds subsequently happenstance balloons enjoying the afternoon delights with spoon insertion directly into brain cavity opening wide with pyramid grace sucking on a cough drop to maximum pleasure mode machine clouds moving across uncertain skies maintained for undisclosed purposes reasoning forthwith asunder remote communications abreast with the times they are a-changing degrees of perpetual sorrow declared by abandoned greek orthodox platoons of prostitutes marching to the sea disturbed by troubling storms sarcastically calling our names as we skate on thin possibility garbage can heroics heralding human hungers forcing the issue from becoming another casualty from the wreckage of our lives.

it’s medication time.
he doesn’t feel that the meds quite make it.
he is having them changed.
the dose was increased on one of them.
supposed to make it so his thoughts are more manageable without spiraling out like lined up dominos one thought to another another another… on and on.
and the breakdowns into gut-wrenching foreboding despair.
what a pickle.
nothing he can’t handle throughout his life of dreaming.
thinking about everything with nothing much to think about.
not much of any real interest.
paying minimal attention – enough to more or less function.
mind in the clouds.
bats in the belfry.
lazy fuck.

it’s cool though whatever.
he sleeps.

he wakes up and goes out to get a mocha and smokes.
he comes home.
a toke.
a cigarette.
fat black cat on the windowsill in the sun.
the world organized to function as one more or less.
operating on the same time.
liquid sky.
big business.
$$$.
he tends to mumble when he speaks.
he expects no one to listen.
quasi-avant garde mish mash doubleplusgood duckspeak.
thinking about everything.
everything is his god.
what mysteries lie hidden in its depths.
will it be anything he may have been able to imagine?
to be ready for it.
watching and waiting.
relax.
the fat black cat being a pest walking back and forth across the desk – and the keyboard.
what energy is created.
what energy is desired and/or feared.
the sun comes out of the gray shade of scattered clouds that sometimes rain.
is he an agent of free will?
or does fate decide what he will decide.
how does fate decide?
is there some logical formula?
or is it magick?
is it an act of will?
is it driven by our total combined actions with karmic repercussions?
he attaches a forked twig into the web of the mind shift/ship ready and waiting for action.
hijack the planet from the bad guys.
make everything alright.
magick sprouting as weeds in the cracks in the wall of brute rationalogic thought and reason.
the takeover will be complete.
in through the out door.
all in our heads outta our minds.
fantasy vs reality – though they don’t need to.
brazil.
wssssq32.
reference points and signs on our way along pathless paths following this one a while then that one then the other one on and on and so on.
landmarks from those who have passed this way before through these wilderness mindscapes.
a brilliant escape route.
he doesn’t know why this seems to be real but it does.
everything is mixed up in this world.
how are we to be expected to find our way through it?
what can we depend on?
we depend on everything.
the full whole of everything not just a slice of the pie.
the pie in the sky.
the pie in our face.
holy cow.

he’s nowhere close.
he has no idea what he’s doing for this or that or the other thing.
he hangs on dangling loose entangled threads twirling.
he thinks about abusive relationships.
he thinks about mountain streams.
he thinks about landing to colonize another planet.
he thinks about promises he’s broken to himself.
he lights another cigarette.
he thinks about being attacked by wild hungry dogs in the streets of the apocalypse.
earth abides.
those who survive.
the golden web of excited excrement.
be sure to wash your hands after and blow your nose.
where we’re at nobody knows.
not even us.
is it that important?
all we can tell is that we’re here now no matter where or when.
everything is here now everywhere everywhen.
duh.

simple things for simple minds.
the mind is a beautiful servant, a dangerous master – guru jeff.
it’s best to keep it simple.
those whose minds have big ideas.
hot dog.
cigarette.
the guy comes to mow the lawn.
he hates to see it being done but, when in rome…
collective social cultural pressure.
the individual oddball.
big white truck rumbles down the street toward the exit.
the world doesn’t come to an end – not completely.
it’s here just as we know it.
yet how much do we know it?
it is a mystery still, is it not?

the absurdity of everything amazes him.
heheheheheh.
what would the world be without being absurd?
the more sense we try to make of it the more absurd it becomes.
but here at central command we understand everything.
what else would we be doing here?
it may seem absurd but it’s true.
by the power of gazorbnik – long may it wave.
there are lessons in everything.
things work in many different ways.
rationalogic is one of them.

the degraded and the sublime hand in hand walking up the street much to many people’s dismay against the expectations of what’s to be expected.
the avatars sit with us in the garden to tell us their stories.
we give them the benefit of our doubt such as it may be.
doing the hokey pokey.
spin the wheels one more time.
come on, lucky 11.

he lights a bowl.
he lights a cigarette.
he thinks about living in interesting times.
the reality simulation machine thing churning.
imagine that.
but what is the base reality of that scenario?
is it as questionable as the one we experience?
why not?
how could it not be?
nothing is unquestionable.

he can’t imagine being without questions.
would he even be conscious anymore?
how would he think?
would it be the eternal silence of nirvana?
shattered perhaps by a mad god laughing screaming alone in the void inside his head.
heaven as forgetfulness.
forget this ever happened.
forget we ever existed.
is that the ideal we are striving for?
fuck that.

possibilities of truth.
a fucking horned god.
out in the fields in full moonlight.
a bonfire roars.
naked dancers flail to the driving beat of drummers.
we celebrate ourselves.

medication time.

heavenly grudge

he began searching for god and found the void.
he found god in the void.
a mad god laughing screaming alone in the void inside his head.
void of everything – even nothing.
then suddenly, i am.
the soul of bliss consciousness.
who is not i am though i am is no one?
the i am within who we believe ourselves to be.
as we fall deeper and deeper into it.
the i am aum thing vibration throughout the known universe ringing in our heads with discordant harmony devised by ancient ritual notwithstanding humming with energy continuing on and on.
he is fooling himself with hollow hallowed thoughts of himself alone as he has been abandoned here in this world he has never quite been able to understand thinking this way that way the other way about it much to his continued confusion.
if he could get his shit together but he has never been able to decide on what to do except being warned not to follow leaders.
he makes it up for himself according to other instructions he received being perhaps deceived.
he doesn’t know nothing.
watch out.
he is one who we are advised not to be.
he is one we are advised we should avoid.
so what’s to be done with him now?
everything is a mystery to him as it stands now if only there was anything he feels he can count on seeing him through it but there appears to be nothing tangible he is able to determine being as dimwitted as he is now and again.
while others chase what seems to them holy he watches and waits perhaps a bit too long for it to be of any useful purpose to him or another stepping into a machine of dreaming dreams forever unless stopped by reasonable doubt coming from within he doesn’t always understand how or why.
why not?
that is the question that is the answer.
why the fuck not?
he has no answer for it.
the answer is a riddle.
is it a joke?
digging a hole deeper and deeper he doesn’t know what else to do but radiate a vibration of himself into the chaotic noise surrounding him along with billions of other souls lost to the world as it should never be but we cause with our own actions of selfish greed in the pursuit of happiness without hope of attaining it by any means necessary for our development toward yonder higher planes of existence held out for us to strive to achieve.
he sits and thinks and sometimes he just sits.
blank staring beyond the void into radiating images of the one and many he feels he understands but it gives him nothing of any value ($$$) in this world to save him from himself broken down to the point of no deposit no return while poets sing of love.
gfvbhnnnb.
he loves his blue neptune home sweet home.
a gas bag floating self-sufficient free to mingle or not.
naked and unafraid.
kidnapped by space pirates and forced here in this world against his will.
that’s his story and he’s sticking to it.
this heavy world.
easy flights of fancy into dreamtime reality.
he makes tea and english muffin with peanut butter.
a cigarette.
wandering scattered mind.
the middle of doubt.
broken radio head unable to receive the broadcasts.
still trapped within the mind’s ego vehicle transport machine.
alienated alone in this world of billions.
the absurd universe.
he chuckles.
the fat black cat sits behind the computer screen in the sun.
the mail person comes and goes as do others.
sunny day amid the rain.
activity in the park.
people.
none he could count on in a fix.
the state is his only friend.
long may it wave.
all the cracks in the wall.
infestation of living life growing through.
constant changing configurations of reality.
when suddenly nothing happens.
abgob, unholy into dimensional reflections of itself toward unpromised lands left to choose discovering rivers filled with eat prana instant flesh of heavenly host proudly wavering trembling before reconciled ambitions.
he feels himself part of the universal love machine networked around the world making rah rah rah sideways integrated in with our theory of everything.
when thought vanishes and a new world appears into view.
dead carcass covered with flies in the sunshine of our love.
not as it may seem spastic delays in the control room where discussions take place about waves of tears washing away our special sorrows dear to us leaving us alone again with our instinct to survive.
bogba, aloof master order holy lord forthwith to be for us in struggles against ourselves hereafter.
wait while the mission resolves itself in accordance of divine plans.
hotcha.
we are on a mission from god almighty absolute lord of the universe and worlds below.
it’s secret.
we do not know ourselves.
we receive and follow instructions like everyone else.
what game is being played?
what shenanigans?
we step outside a moment or if 6 was 9.

enjoy

sleeping again.
awakening again.
coffee.
toke.
cigarette.
exploring the range of possibilities.
everything included in with our theory of everything as it should be.
nothing excluded as with other theories dismissing everything that doesn’t fit in with their theory they proudly wave on top of the hill.
making it work.
making $$$.
ours is the more complicated task how to keep everything together into some sort of coherent whole with parts contradicting conflicting with one another.
but that is as close as an approximation to a model of everything as we can manage.
it’s not a pretty picture.
nope.

for many there is a supreme god or a supreme truth that holds sway over everything.
perhaps.
if everything is everything then this remains a possibility.
it’s the probability of the possibilities that plays a major part.
probability within certain defining parameters.
and all that jazz.
remember, the house always wins.

ja guru deva om.
the big bang and evolution of the universe.
we fit into it.
we adapt.
we survive.
we are all mutants along continuums.
we are each unique and different.
everything is mutated.
this we know.
guru jeff tells us so.
natas.

there are monsters to be summoned from the depths.
arise.
be careful.
follow instructions.
consult the manual.

it depends on whose propaganda one believes in or not.
each are valued as truth.
which is not to state that there is not truth in them.
but we need to be attentive and sort out what is and what is not compared to what we learn from other sources we stumble upon.
non-linear propulsion.
metaschizophrenic science.
gazorbnik.
guru jeff will guide us if we allow him to.
but we each must find our own way through it.
we provide our way as an example not as a model.
do not follow us.
DIY.

but join us and perhaps others doing similar work on our own.
we clear our heads to free ourselves from the disinformation of the constant indoctrinations fed to us through various media channels as much as we are able.
it’s a lifetime task.
live and learn – often too late.
what entanglements nature and nurture and karma(?) get us caught up in by themselves.
then add all the social dada on top of that.
we are ill-prepared.
often many of us succumb.
the weight is heavy.
but we endure somehow by the chance of fate and our will.
we hold on in a world often in many ways set against us as it is in its present competitive state.
a state many proclaim as a natural state.
that would be dependent on how we perceive nature.
nature in abundance not scarcity.
until those of us get greedy about it.
but even so we endure.
we ask for little – enough to survive simply yet comfortably.
our comforts are meager.
there is plenty for all.
cooperative effort making small work for each of us to do our part as we can.
sharing and respect.
and all that jazz.

but if this world gets too cozy then why would we want to leave to attain higher realms as we are supposed to in order to reach godhead?
we would want to come here back again and again.
so this world must be made into suffering and misery so that we don’t get too comfortable.
we want out and we want it now.
yet we are told our ignorance holds us back.
perhaps this is so.
it does make a certain amount of sense that it would.
but then we are told to follow x-path to attain freedom.
there are so many.
so many interpretations of reality – if there is reality.
but there are those who tell us to make it up for ourselves.
this to us seemed to be the way to follow though we always have our doubts.
yet we are social zeros unable to join anyone about anything anyway so we don’t have much other choice.
ours is an exclusive path.
a path of me, myself and i am.
everyone else is other.
we are them.

we think about everything that happens to come to mind in the moment.
tesseracts.
bdsm.
bowling.
on beyond zebra.
etc.
we look for connections to whatever else we might be thinking at the time.
synchronistic synapses.
the living brain.
the fat black cat running around crazy around the room and up and down the hall.
outta our minds.
being quite mad.
we should have probably learned some discipline earlier on but we didn’t.
oh well.

we feel free of constraints in wild abandon thoughtless in thinking everything everywhere everywhen here now.
such grand design of chaotic happenstance following orders creating sustaining destroying in a process of existence we behold in wonder.
even the wise guys seem dumbfounded.
but this is what was is will be.
mystery always before us.
what the fuck?
a question we have thus far been unable to agree on an answer though we have many different theories among us we accept as truth.
for us we know of no truth as far as we have been able to determine from our own experience and the accounts of the experiences of others as we interpret them.
everything is possible.
our own imagination with our own reason.
right or wrong.
does it matter?
are we doomed if we fail?
in the structure of this world perhaps.
down and out to fend for ourselves while the victors take all.
alive and well on easy street.
for the moment.

logic loses its grip as we float away toward distant skies we might glimpse over the horizon of the known universe.
is this a good thing or a bad thing we are unable to judge for ourselves.
fortunately there are others who will judge for us with many telling us our mission is ill-advised.
it is too late now.
we are far past the point of no return.
if only we had heeded their words before now.
we could know their truth.
we would receive their blessing.
wouldn’t that be special?

everything is in doubt.
but we give it the benefit of doubt in order to be in it to enjoy the experience of it whichever way it might go.
it goes up and down.
it goes around around.
sideways.
a possible reality simulation for us who have no reality in our undisturbed natural state of eternal bliss consciousness and all that jazz.
we willingly succumb to the circumstances of this world.
when we watch tv the show is spoiled if we spend our time in realization that it is all illusion of flashing pixels on a screen.
we put that realization aside for the moment to enjoy being caught in the tragic comic drama of it all as it is meant to be perceived.
thrills and spills.
always on the edge of our seats.
if we are into that sort of thing.
and we happen not to be.
we want to know what it is and how it works and stuff like that.
we take it apart with no intention of putting it back together again – not as we found it anyway.
all in our heads – our heads included.
our heads so far up our ass they pop out as our heads again.
fun and games.

what can we do?
we’ve been dealt a hand and have to play it for whatever it might be worth.
winners and losers in this game the others have decided we are all gonna play for their own gain.
but that isn’t what we’re in it for.
we are here to observe.
watch and wait.
learn.
come to understand.
he lights another cigarette.

the fat black cat is bugging him hopping up on the desk and shit being a pest.
other than that he still continues attempting to think about everything but he seems to go around around in cycles never quite repeating about whatnot he’s been through before looking for whatever he may have missed the first 1000+ times.
what an idiot.
2+2=moo?

but he has doubtfully followed guru jeff (the living incarnation of the dada-ananda) faithfully for these many decades of his life when he first heard his name called from the celestial void.
he doesn’t wanna have to admit now that perhaps he made a mistake.
guru jeff is his key to truth as we imagine it to be.
he has followed whatever instructions there may be to come to this end when it begins continuing forever without beginning nor end or some such.
he’s not exactly clear about much of it as is probably quite clear.
he doesn’t pay much attention even to what he makes up for himself.
it comes and goes as does everything.
what can we count on to be in the next moment?
i am?
perhaps.
perhaps not.
everything is unknown.

but i am is all he’s got.
to doubt our own existence.
there is no logical reason for us to exist.
yet can we deny it?
we experience it every moment though we forget.
yet it could all be false.
oh well.
that’s what we get thinking too much.

we were advised to quit all our goddamn thinking early on.
we paid it no mind.
we couldn’t.
our brain won’t stop itself.
none of the medications we have been given do much good about that.
so we let it go to see where it might lead us to.
horrifying terror.
fantastic delight.
why would we want it any other way?
if this is madness then we want more of it.
or maybe not.
a lot comes with it the average person could not cope with for a moment never mind the eternities we go through.
eternities of lifetimes.
lifetimes of hopelessness.
lifetimes of joyfulness.
this is the life lived.
would we want another different?
what is different among our lives?
fate is a two-edged sword for all.
no matter how high we climb it’s still the same shit over and over.
somebody should do something about that.

those who believe they might have half of something without the whole are funny.
pure goodness and light.
pure evil and darkness.
and other such nonsense.
one half a duality defines and is defined by the other half.
there is no way around that.
all binary on/off thinking.
no blurring of the dividing lines and that sort of malarkey.
stating the obvious that many do seem to understand.
too much rationalogic thinking.
thinking in rations.
not thinking infinitely.
not thinking gazorbnik.

acid head.
take this, may it serve you well.
metaphysical vision thinking pie in the face of our imagination.
soupy sales kids these days don’t understand nor will anyone else ever.
23 skidoo, baby.
dig it if you can.
dig it all everything.
coffee.
toke.
cigarette.
when your life passes you by like a colorful parade of clowns.
and free range elephants tooting their horns.
when life is a cartoon of itself.
and don’t forget balloons and bubbles.
and a pink gorilla.
when these boots are made for walking.
we sit still wiggling in our seats with tense excitement.
we laugh into space.
all radiating instant karma blues.
blue blue neptune home.
a floating flock of self-sustaining organisms.
automatons.
meditative peace machine.
aum.
he pets the fat black cat.
purr.

grinning with teeth clenched.
nerves of tangled rubber bands.
eyes wide with wonder at the elegance of the illusion.
he’s never experienced anything like it.
enjoy.