everything is going our way

document 8 –

our dear one beloved:

when whispers roar in your mind as the day is broken upon us living our continuing lives, the clown’s predominant and perhaps only remaining question is, what is death like? but he will find out more in due time. he is tentatively curious and almost eager. what is left to learn of this life in this world that remotely interests him anymore? he does not know it all, nor has he experienced it all, nor had the time or inclination, but he mostly understands the basic gist of it – $$$.
11:11

coffee toke cigarette.
but he dreams and has visions of another life on another similar plane sideways to this one. $$$ still is its main motivation factor. everything else is nonsense, as guru jeff often told us, while guru jeff didn’t have a penny to his holy/unholy names.
is $$$ a crime?

$$$ is a tool that ultimately ideally may benefit all to have what they need and want without outside interference but just a common willingness for free equitable exchange everyone can profit from in their own ways.
the LOVE of $$$ is an entirely different tale to tell. it fucks up everything. but the greedy we shall always have with us, deal with it.
so far we have only been able to replace one group of greedy motherfuckers with another group of greedy motherfuckers down throughout history.
it’s all one can do to stay outta their way which no longer seems possible now with their world rapidly covering controlling consuming the earth, as it has been written.
___

keep the x in xmas. x – an unknown variable, perhaps unknowable. we seek it above all else. what is it? how wealthy would one be possessing it? how much power does it hold?
let x=x.
these and other questions to puzzle over.
the clown is not puzzled, the clown understands why this must be, and/or not be.
it’s simple, yet complicated to arrive at.
so there. may it serve you well, as you serve it well.

later another day or so.
idiot – one’s own, private person, layperson, common person, assumed to be mentally diminished and/or ill-educated, …
id – it.
yokels.

take out the trash, throw it on the heap of oblivion and walk away forever. that’s how you do it, baby.
a changing of the guard. a changing of the tide. a changing of the moon. sitting on a beach watching the waves, a swig of vodka passed around the circle. the machine everyone knows as nancy laughs, we feel she laughs at us. does she know how this might end? the joke perhaps is on us.

we exist on multiple levels it seems to us all experiencing at the same time. for now here we are, we are entertained but very much concerned regarding everything possible spinning out threads of living life to its full extent from no beginning to no end with everything in-between on countless continuums like waves on a beach.

3 of 6 –
so many people around him he knows suffering and he can do nothing for them it seems as they do nothing to help themselves. around around we go, ripples on a still pond, but what is a still pond but a mirror for narcissus? the eternal search of self for self, captured in the amber of a moment for eternity when nothing comes to an end and without beginning and blah blah blah along other mystical metaphysical lines radiating into one another in the midst of realization and the like.

do we need to continue? no. but we do anyway for our own sense of madness evoked from the backdoors of our minds into absolute consciousness, and we got away with it, haha. looking into the depths of the abyss to understand what’s happening. we are trusted with secrets. we were given a bill we cannot pay. we are doomed by our nature and nurture, and indoctrination. there is nothing left to us of ourselves anymore. we are given no choice but to seek the mysteries. this is the way many experience it for themselves. is this a test of our stupidity?

while we are practicing for enlightenment, whatever it might be, everything is taken from us. the clown knows he’s a useless fuck anymore but still he smiles to himself with uncertain mirth at the moments proceeding onward as if without a care to be forgotten.
wondering about the true base of reality unfolding constantly eating away at our brains. what a bargain.
what a thing to forget. the clown fights with himself always on the losing end of anything he is presented with already in progress before he knows it. isn’t god wonderful?
is everybody kidding with this shit? upstairs the lights blink out, downstairs the party’s just beginning.
light cannot dispel the darkness, the darkness cannot dispel the light. we live in both worlds as with all other duality yin yang thing. the clown laughs.
he sleeps.

awakening for the zillionth time it seems to become almost a useless endeavor. in tv ads we wake with happy smiley faces ready to go and face the day in a dream.
coffee toke cigarette.
relax. breathe. to remind oneself we are cosmic beings acting in a play upon the stage at the burning theater. we are so gracefully clumsy, foolishly wise. to experience all we might experience experiencing this experience whatever way it turns itself this way, that way, the other way, etcetera.

all that does not really happen adding up to ±0. who can ever tell which side of it we’re on? it’s not as easy as it might seem to us at first. first we must understand what it is we do not know. that’s the hard part. what’s easiest is to do nothing. everything becomes intensely simple, though nothing is really any sorta answer.
we don’t need answers for what we are doing, if we knew what we are doing – haha. but it’s not that funny either. something somewhere in the middle where it’s all happening. few know. fewer yet understand.

why?
why not?

a world where when nothing is forbidden and everything is permitted. square one. from that point on for centuries we fight it out amongst ourselves about how the world is to be. by force we make rules to be followed, or else.
there’s $$$ to be made, that’s the important thing to many, whereas many others do without and watch. it’s a game we play in simulated real-time.

but we imagine worlds for ourselves each to one’s own liking and temperament. there’s a reason we are all here whatever it may be – or not.
there are those who guide the ways to other planes among us whoever has the sense to recognize who they may be out of all the multitude of faces. take care with who you spend your $$$.

we wanted everything for free. it was made clear to us this is not the case; it is not the time back to when we roamed the earth free. rules and $$$ are in place now. those with $$$ make the rules. we have no rules we can think of we want to be enforced. we still dream of a world where no rules is possible without force, where force is neutralized by common will and understanding.
oh well.

nothing works as it should. everything is broken in one form or another. but the project must continue, that is the object for those of understanding.
knowledge can be communicated one to another, understanding however cannot. one might understand everything while knowing nothing.
words create far more confusion than understanding, yet confusion can lead one to understanding.
knowledge is facts. understanding is meaning.

it’s what we each put together for ourselves that is reality to each one of us. it seems silly to fight about what it all means. but that is not what we fight about really. we fight about $$$. it’s always about $$$ no matter if we realize or not and believe perhaps instead to be on a mission from the gods. ha – what a joke that is.

and all else we won’t get into now but to state how wonderful everything all is to our understanding of how it truly works. and it’s all for our benefit – even everything evil that is balanced with everything good.
the clown sleeps.

 

squeak?

part 88 –

pretending sitting watching waves on an imaginary island with the machine everyone knows as nancy in the eye of a storm raging on an otherwise calm sea.
the sea is humanity.

dream pie deluxe octogonistic flamboyant dundle bunny prancing in his head the clown typing not p0em for anyone anymore as thinking of the collective id magnified by our “intelligence” with or without our noticing the haunting “entities” that thrive there we must always be on guard for and/or against where lines are drawn across shifting sands.
do not forget the krill.

what potluck smorgasbord offerings of non-linear propulsions with metaschizophrenic science as designed by the seriousness of the situations written as chalkboard calculations for our approval undone by irrationalogic reason.
monkeys on trial for their tactless indiscretions of free thought not in line with prohibitions disguised as common sense.
holy hi-ho/la-dee-da. give or take an inch. zingo.
_________

it is told to us by the wise guys that we must overcome. overcoming the boredom is the hardest part. it is quicksand. we have seen many sinking into it never to come out again.
but we ourselves “fly away above”. we don’t know how or why this is or not.

he is happy and he knows it, he claps his hands.
goof nugget. “zippy”. the realizations that come to him now that it is too late but to remember where/when it all comes from living the life he has lived in joy and despair. he don’t care if you “understand”.

the clown paints himself into a corner. he whistles a different tune waiting for the paint to dry.
it all balances at 0. but 0 is nothing, so we venture out to see what’s happening – to create what is happening. to make $$$ for somebody.

the fat black cat sleeping.
steady as it goes. cold banana. surf the slippery slope. he’s never had much “faith” in any one thing or another, so he built his own out of what he could understand in his own way possible. he expounds upon it outta virgo enhanced obsessive/compulsive disorder. and no one need buy into it. it’s his own trip.
we thought that was understood at the beginning but perhaps not. maybe you weren’t paying attention.
so it goes to believing in everything as much as the eye can see and imagine. believing in gods of every kind – yours included. earth peopled with gods. there is no god. but there is $$$ in god. find god that sells. keep the change.

this is his peace and quiet typing not p0em the clown enjoying being here now. ah-choo.
he expects nothing else. he is boring, but never bored©.
i am!? is the battle cry before we die laughing.
{exploring the self to the point of “i am”. but what is i am? another illusion of itself shrouded in itself? i am before it has a thought of itself. just experiencing. just being. just radiating through everything everywhere everywhen. nothing to it.}

ultra-transcendalistically the clown creeps about in his “brain” looking for monitoring devices. they could be in anything we ingest what we have come to “trust no one”.
hats off.

this is it when everything ends.
this is it when everything begins.
it is it when everything continues.
this moment, now.

everyone calling for the “end of the world” by whatever name they might call it as it occurs in every moment passing.
they have it figured out and imagine they will be the ones “saved” who survive.
the clown knows he will be among the billions dead.
no big deal – he is more than 1/2 way there already.
everything is reset to 0.
is he done with this world?
we shall see.

the one thing we have is gazorbnik and gazorbnik is like unto a swollen infected [cyst] ready to be lanced open to spill out its pus and stench.
it is a butterfly emerging from the crazy cartoon cocoon to mate and die in a display of glorious wonder.
gazorbnik is “fake” for all to see and imagine.
do not think about gazorbnik.
gazorbnik is not for you.
few understand the “humor” in this.
once we understand then the laughter begins, though nothing is all that humorous come to think of it.

has.

11:11
spreading madness [as instructed] like jam on slices of buttered toast.
yum.
more coffee, toke, and a cigarette.
hahaha.
everything is more interesting now than before “it is it” always taking crazy cryptic curves bending what is known to us as “reality”, though it probably is not. nevermind.
chastised and still laughing at the confusion in the eyes of those attempting to reason with us. make us obey and pay, or make us go away and don’t come back another day.

but th

all are not created equal.™

let us not forget that this is not p0em written by a clown as he seems to have reached a stalemate with himself. everything is odd imperfect balance out of balance of contradictory oppositions in discordant harmony. can you see “it”? is your head screwed on right? or is it left? we can make the proper adjustments accordingly.

it’s medication time.
and some people like everything structured in order. it’s ok for some things but chaos needs to have its place for this teetering balancing act to |function.
that’s how we are here for; it would seem; or not.
we are happenstance glitches in the spacetime continuums mechanism galore and then some. we don’t know how or why. we just happen to appear as if by some godawful magick. a blessing in disguise?
it takes all kinds. why don’t you see? see the possibility.
it’s a joke, isn’t it?
perhaps.

sticks and stones will break our bones, but names will never hurt us.
we are mutating freaks that “r/evolution” demands. we are gazorbnik. and we don’t “get it” that much either. we relate what we know about it. our ignorance is great and weighs heavily upon us. cheer up. we are given the strength we might come to need when we need it. strength to withstand the attacks against us if “they” knew who/what we are in a world conspiring in our benefit it would seem.
we are them.

how many universes can be balanced on the head of a pin?
and so much else that it sometimes stuns him with itself into fits of babbling idiocy.

yes?
yes.
all we can tell you is, yes.

hail victory.
more power to you.
good lucky luck.
sweet dreams.

?

ooga booga

part 81 –

sprinkling faerie dust all over the place.
watching it fall to the ground beneath the heel.
so much for that.
hahaha.
little do we know.

beware those among us who claim to know.
this time of false prophets and such.
what is there to know but peace, love, and understanding?
that will lead you where you want to go, yes?
while others beat the drums of war.
interesting times, indeed.

come all ye faithful.
come let’s doubt together.
we are tested with fire and hammer.
tra-la-la.

the clown typing not poem for the multitude of the great unwashed.
let this be a lesson to ya.
what?

who are we kidding?
this testament to our ignorance of all the others value and hold dear.
we want none of it.
let their greed lead them ever onward.
the greedy we shall always have with us.

and yet as a spaceship hovers nearby the clown thinks about how everything is conspiring for his benefit to guide him along on his chosen pathless paths for no reason but to be and become.
how many more times does this need to be repeated before it begins to somewhat make some sorta sense?
days repeating themselves each different.
every moment different, as the old song goes.
this realization may save what’s left of your life.

begin it again, though there is no beginning.
everything continues.
there is no inside.
there is no outside.
there aren’t any sides.
everything is infinity, though there is no infinity.
infinity as such cannot exist.
think.

a few thoughts the clown has come to realize through the fog of his self-imposed ignorance.
as dawn creeps up over the distant mountains.
coffee, cigarette.

to have a revolution we gotta break some eggs – the minds of the masses locked in tight to the official story.
tear them away.
make it difficult for the powers that be to offer an explanation contrary to reason.
let us think of ways to invent.

the clown sits back into the privileged luxury and leisure afforded him in these troubling times.
he doesn’t know why.
he should be dead in the street.
a forgotten corpse.
but he may get his turn yet.

he is positive/negative in his understanding of events around him near and far.
he perceives them as part of a scheme to keep the majority of us oppressed and obedient.
wave those burning flags, people.
your angry words proceed you.

the clown sits still at times waiting for it.
it is it.
it is never quite finished but continues forever from no beginning toward no end.
face it.

we understand all through our ever-changing (evolving?) theory of everything such as it is.
he makes and eats a pb&j sandwich for his breaking fast.
pigs on ice.
and it’s medication time.
11:11

if not for the exaggerations, lies, and name calling we might actually be able to get our shit together.
but…

people work out their own narrative, or buy into one that’s worked out for them, and they refuse to believe anything else.
we refuse to believe anything we don’t wanna and we don’t have to.
we’re different.
hahaha.

this world and universe and whatever else divinely inspiring and guiding him the clown tiptoes through minefields of eggshells trying carefully not to make a mistake.
but it happens.
but he is somehow protected from harm – so far.
gods love fools and watch out for them.
he doesn’t know why this must be.
he just observes it happening in his life.

how to get over ourselves in the meantime.
breathe in.
breathe out.
relax.

but he himself too gets all anxious about shit.
it’s a normal day for him to be.
all us people all hopped up over something or another.
bees in our bonnets.
ants in our pants.

it’s aliens.
they won’t leave us alone.
surprise.
and pissed off alpha-apes beating their chests.
how nothing has changed for millennia around the sun.
strange, yet all too familiar.
and it goes down the line from the top to the bottom – or from the bottom to the top?
what does it matter?

it’s all fake.
it’s all lies.
our heroes turn out to be businesspeople after all counting their hoards of $$$.
like that means shit to us.
it’s just sad to see others go wanting instead.
but this is the business of the world at large.
have at it, fuckers.

the spiritual life in the material physical world of illusions of reality in our minds.
don’t fight it.
allow it to play itself out.
enjoy the show, the endless drama of comedy and tragedy.
do we know which is what?
do we know when to laugh or when to cry?
waiting for the houselights to dim.

the end of the beginning.
the beginning of the end.
the continuing spinning of the wheels forever.

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.

turd

as a spaceship hovers nearby he is busy planning an escape hoping to be able to open the necessary appointed portals in synchro-timed sequences such that he’s gone without anyone noticing which they usually don’t pay him much attention anyway so that’s not really a problem much and to devise pathways through twilight zone planes of reality he learned as a sprout back in indiana which isn’t that far from the truth and besides truth is for losers who have lost their own way and to remember the codes he discovered throwing backhanded i-ching with wooden nickels as guru jeff had taught us quite a while ago in the early years before his timely death at our hands on deck of cards chosen at quasi-random possibilities surrounding the quantum fields vibrating energies every tuesday after each of the half-moons waxing and waning like life itself until death do us part.

repent.
repent what?
repent being a self-centered selfish greedy ignorant brute without a care for anyone as much as they care about him?
repent disobeying the law of the fathers?
repent having too much fun being lazy as fuck?
he is guilty as charged, he supposes – and much much more.
one would imagine the almighty lord god would know better but it seems it was quite careless creating us such that only a few would be chosen while the vast majority goes to waste.
bad god.
bad bad god.
go to your room until you learn to behave yourself and play nice.
no one likes a bully – a self-righteous one at that.

we generally seem to hate in others what we perceive in them about what we most hate in ourselves.
that seems about right about god and its attitude about us.
he does not believe in a perfect god.
he does not believe in a perfect anything.
god is just a being that appears without beginning on the scene as bewildered as anyone would be until it discovers powers of creating sustaining destroying whatever realities at will it fills with images of itself each independently differently unique yet god seems to feel all must wish to be the same and obedient slaves to its will.
for some reason our acting on our own seems to drive it bananas into fits of rage and revenge.
god seriously needs to get over itself.
but the chances of that happening are probably nil.
we need to find a means of putting it outta its misery which since he was child told about there being god he never felt god was very happy with anything probably not with itself most of all.
it acts the spoiled child with too many toys it recklessly breaks or abandons cuz there will always be more where they come from with a snap of its fingers anytime it wants.
he does not believe this god knows anything about love and compassion, not that he has ever read about in the holy books or imagined on his own.
such a waste of time and energy.
but god has infinite reserves at its command and disposal so why should it care?
it obviously doesn’t.
so why should we care?
so why should he care?
we are born damned so who gives a fuck?
fuck it.
fuck it all.

but he finds his peace in moments of solitude where when he is left free of being bothered.
this is where when his thinking runs away with itself toward new understanding – or to further depths of delusion.
does it matter which, if it is not that the two are the same?
he doubts it.

we are commanded to love god.
he neither loves nor hates god.
he pities god if anything.
the poor soul laughing screaming alone in the void inside his head.
it seems frightened to him.
frightened that it will not be loved as it would seem it needs to be.
it is a sad thing to behold.
the great creator humbled by unrequited love.
if it actually can feel love.
he doubts that by its reported actions against those of us who are at best indifferent toward it.
it regards us as worth no more than the dirt from which we were formed.
easy come, easy go.
it carelessly sows seed all over the place on barren ground and fertile.
it prizes what the fertile ground produces and curses what the barren ground does not.
is it we who decide where we fall?
this is what he understands about it and he is not impressed.
the great almighty lord god of oz on the mountain top smoking and thundering and all sorts of other special effects to make us tremble and be afraid.
who wants any part of that if this is the only way god can relate to us?
why not each of us one on one face to face?
sit and talk it out.
light up a bowl.
light up a cigarette.
this mystery it cloaks itself in does nothing but confuse the whole fucking thing and makes us feel like stupid worthless shit not understanding what’s the deal.
what are these threats it makes?
if you love someone set them free and if they don’t come back then hunt them down and kill them seems to be its thinking.
he would expect a god to be above that sort of thing, but it would seem that it is not.
oh well.

he likes to love.
he tries to find love in his heart but it is a difficult thing.
he would like perhaps to love god but he will not love god just for the mere fact it has not destroyed him on a whim – yet.
and there is always one more test with god.
there is definitely something wrong with this picture.
it is probably himself.
that is what the wise guys would tell him.
but he doubts that as well.
he has been around this over and over again hoping the results would be different but not expecting them to be.
what is he missing?
to find the god within?
he has found that one – the one laughing and screaming alone in the void inside his head.
who might comfort it?
how many of us does it need to love it and praise its holy name for all eternity?
will there ever be enough?
what drives this madness from its mind?
he does not know.
he cannot imagine.

so he goes his merrie way through birth life death thing taking in what he can from what he experiences and learns from the experiences of others.
he tries to learn about everything and come to an understanding about it.
how long will this take?
how many lifetimes – if he has more than this?
it doesn’t matter.
god or not god.
duality once more.
we know all about that and how it works to create and shape reality.
a reality of a world he can destroy with a bullet.
pull the trigger and it all goes away.
he remains alone in a void without his head.
oh boy.

he lights up the bowl.
he lights up another cigarette.
he thinks if there is anyone out here but him.
maybe yes.
maybe no.
maybe maybe, baby.
he thinks if he were god and all alone and lonely being all that which exists since no beginning he can remember and came up with the brilliant idea to create something other than himself and having nothing else to make use of he creates it out of himself dividing himself into countless pieces of every shape and size and description, etc. from teeny tiny particles to great huge galaxies all spinning in crazy circles around him being amazed at first but gradually becoming bored with no other to be amazed with beside him and then deciding to supernaturally manifest creatures to be his companions witnessing this infinite display of wonder he scoops up earth and breathes his breath into it and there soon are countless of the fuckers who are himself in disguises and thinking all sortsa shit about everything they perceive around them and doing all sortsa shit and talking all sortsa shit and he thinks maybe this wasn’t such a great idea after all so he calls them all back to himself to be one again and they take their sweet ass time about it being dazzled by the world as he imagines it being the best and worst of all possible worlds yet he has doubts perhaps that being all one again isn’t what he wants either so he keeps it both ways awhile until he decides which or what it might be as randomly unpredictable as he could make it wanting to be surprised which he has been and continues to be so in all the forms he has taken in this pursuit of self-interested happiness he enjoys imagining himself sitting before a computer in a mortal human form hunched over the keyboard typing out a not poem about our theory of everything thus far as it he comes to understand it realizing he is still alone but lonely no more.

he chews some bazooka.
he blows a bubble careful not to get it stuck in his beard.
what an oh no that would be.
hahaha.
imagining possibilities endlessly even with medications to slow it down so it’s not spiraling out like rows of dominos toward infinite infinitesimalities along pathless paths of improbability reaching the destination in the journey to nowhere (now here).
oh boy.
what fun.
how exciting.
and the lottery ticket comes up zip.

and how is he to tell if he is mad or not?
he doesn’t feel particularly mad.
he hears voices but he doesn’t listen to them.
it’s all a cacophony anyway.
a vocal noise montage.
it’s the reactions of the others to him that tell him he is mad.
they hardly need say nothing directly about it, except in jest.
he knows.
they know he knows.
they are always watching for clues in his behavior.
they remind him that he is error.
they have reminded him with ECTs in the past.
he understood that he was the odd one out as soon as he decoded the language they were speaking.
after a while he began digging it as he learned how to use it to his benefit and he wouldn’t change it for nothing.
a disappearing dot of light like on an old tv set when you shut it off.
there goes the world as we know it.
goodbye.
back to oblivion, baby.
which is what?
huh?

chewing some nicotine gum.
it ain’t no cigarette.
it ain’t no disco.
he’s become distracted along the way here now.
he thinks he remembers.
a god willing itself into existence.
a god that is ever was.
a finite/infinite god.
a finite/infinite hot dog.
it.
before any duality.
and he sleeps.

at the diner over medium eggs sourdough toast orange juice open notebook scribbling a not poem about our theory of everything and such along whatever comes to mind in the moment which isn’t much of anything so far that formulates itself into words he might transcribe on a blank page waiting for ink to be marked on it for future reference by whoever whenever wherever might come to understand whatever about anything up for grabs by anyone and all that jazz waiting for instructions from central command.
all the lovesick songs on the jukebox moaning heartaches.
he steps outside for a smoke watching people coming and going along like waves on a beach he imagines himself standing at the edge of the surf washing in and washing out sinking feet into the sand as he ponders whatever the fuck.
he steps back inside sitting at the counter continuing scribbling his delusional mind working to bring him ideas about the impractical absurd unreal things that seem to follow and find him anywhere he goes haunting him with ghostly montage of images difficult to describe as it is the same as it ever was but with a twist and turning or two or three on and on.
he wonders still about the god problem as if that needs to be our real concern but with these people willing to kill and die for their version of god against others with different ideas.
who is who?
whose truth is truth?
gods of our imagination people make into their reality they then often attempt to impose on others at gunpoint with some amount of success given how people value their lives over their own ideas most of the time but for a few martyrs  for the cause and effect which hasn’t necessarily been proven true or false either way according to many who think too much and are met with the absurd everywhere they might turn this way that way the other way and back over and over again until it becomes entangled into gordian knots that the sword is the solution for some who have no time for nonsense.
there seems to be some confusion about our theory of everything in confusion with us and itself representing the confusion of the reality of the situation which may or may not be in the supposed ordered world but there are rooms for everything in this dualistic continuum world from the best to the worst of all possibility including what is one person’s best is another’s worst possessing us to behave accordingly to our karmic sense of fate or whatever.
we skate across the thin ice of our consciousness trembling laughing nervously at the absurdity of it becoming itself crashing tumbling down the long winding stairs to the foyer floor in black and white chessboard tiles with surreal flavor as he continues scribbling.
then he goes home.

his heart is here imagining sitting before the computer gazing out the window he sees not much happening humanwise but otherwise everything is happening.
he takes a nap.

driving it down and out on easy street where the bums all meet who is left anymore among them with the new upscale renovations being put in place.
save the earth.
so he continues scribbling except now at the café on the other side of town.
turn your frown upside down.
and he is thinking about everything he can which probably isn’t much compared with most who are so inclined to think about everything at all mostly the wise guys who know it all what there is to know but it’s all about what we feel about everything that’s the question or not and he feels some amount of happiness about it but also sorrow about those beaten down and abused so casually by others or left sick and starving with great neglect in the shadows of the empire we have built with no one asking us about it to begin with and as god allows for its greater glory as savior as the caldron is stirred some more by god’s demon underlings doing it the favor to show us that we are nothing but dog shit in the spotlight onstage at the burning theory where all are put to the test with sacrifices to be made to the high priests living the life on their holy seats placed before god almighty in the temple.
clowns to the left.
jokers to the right.
what the fuck are we doing here?
we sit back and enjoy the show must go on despite the tragedy involved as long as the old songs play on the radio with people singing along remembering youth they enjoyed but now the bad times are hanging around causing trouble for everyone he is not impressed by any of it lost in thinking about details of meaning surrounding the issue at hand which we forget what that is by now as history is rewritten to celebrate our newly acquired freedom to be whatever the fuck we please with no accounting for taste or responsibility for actions made in the moment of our deliverance unto evil ways among us like ringing a bell.
he’s all mixed up.
it ain’t like this at all but old used up dogma doo-doo thing in his head about it but that others believe and kill and die for god and $$$ laughing all the way.
it’s easy.
it’s a snap.
it’s a buncha crap.
to obey the state.
to obey god.
to obey ourselves.
to go along business as usual minding our own selves being outta the way of the big wheels churning turning as much as possible we might get away with as we will.
born into a house of lies as a child innocently growing up assuming he could believe what he was being told while he played with his toys until he grew older to begin to realize this may have been a big mistake but not exactly how or why and not much caring just wanting to have some fun but everyone have their agendas to promote and sell.
it’s all about the $$$.
he knew little about this not much paying attention nor anyone much to him he was more or less free but always broke but as he just wanted a simple life he never minded that as it gave him all the time to think about shit which he knew little about which is a dangerous thing.
he left it up to others to fuss and decide what’s what which he would go along with or not as he felt like for whatever reason or none at all oblivious of what was going on around him he dreams his dreams he just wanted peace and never understanding the complications of reasons why not people had about it feeling they aren’t getting their piece of the pie and tired of eating cake he withdraws from it all into retreating to the country where there ain’t nothing happening trying to shake it out and shape it up but mostly just fantasizing time away in waking walking  sleep ignoring everything ding dong in permutations of dead brain consciousness pretending to be an artist/poet composing trash constructions incomplete and ill-advised except for once in a while spells of inspiration to produce actual random expressions of misunderstood meaning.
he never had a chance.
he didn’t know what he was doing.
he didn’t wanna know what he was doing.
he mostly wanted to be left alone but people had other ideas about that.
he goes home again.

being here now.
a toke.
a smoke.
god is a joke.
why not?

spin, baby, spin.
it’s medication time.
make sure he stays on the path.
lsd.
he feels he is on some sorta brink either to fall or fly.
he wonders why but every why is answered, why not?
creeping along typing out a not poem cuz he ain’t no poet.
nope.
he’s quit fooling himself about that but he always knew.
he just doesn’t ever quite cut it.
he’s never been quite focused enough.
other people are focused straight on things with all they got.
those people are often annoying cuz that’s all they talk about and many get rather evangelical about it.
kill and die.
he’s avoided them as much as is possible.
but he’s kinda the same but he focuses on everything that comes his way this or that or the other thing moment by moment his concentration always being distracted by something else to concentrate on and so on.
he finds god floating in the toilet.
he mumbles a prayer and flushes it.

against god and reason

pretzels.
a world of despair.
kundalini orgasm.
ectoplasm cum coming out our ears.
true/false.
pulsating brain.
radiating energy waves continuing the process of assimilation of information receiving/transmitting.
we are all mind controlled possessed by the gestalt consciousness within and without.
the hilarity of confusion ensues.
everybody, drop your pantaloons.
see how the other half lives.
shifting on our sanitary pedestals to lean into where when the beginnings begin to witness an act of god.
god poops.
steaming load of shit and a streaming flood of piss upon the earth from whence everything is born lives dies over and over again expecting different results.
to be transcended and transformed from all that is the goal the wise guys claim to be true because they tell us so.
it’s a satanic gay agenda CIA nazi-zionist masonic illuminati reptilian alien secret chiefs plot to undermine the social fabric of our society as it now stands divided against itself and to establish a brave new world order.
we told you so.
long may it wave.
this should be interesting from now on.
primal survival ape shit.
some make it.
many do not – billions.
is anybody out there?
probably not us.

he imagines sitting before the computer gazing out the window into a sunny warm colorful world outside while he stays in hunched over the keyboard typing out a not poem about our theory of everything and such.
cuz he ain’t no poet.
the cults of ancient mysteries passing on knowledge generation to generation of sons.
maintain power and control and make lottsa $$$.
worship one god – the father.
what’s wrong with this picture?
a god holding back its wrath is not compassion.
its toys will not behave themselves according to its will.
bad toys.
they act as though they have will of their own.

touching grace in disorderly conduct unbecoming who we think we are.
the lowly abject turd flushed down the toilet into the ground where it is dissolved and then absorbed up the roots of a tree through the trunk to the branches to become fruit offered and eaten chewed swallowed digested to poop another lowly abject turd.
cycles in never repeating spiraling across the universe dancing with cosmic magick celestial energy we feel within without in everything everywhere everywhen here now freak flags flying high higher highest burning beneath the moon up on the hill.
this is our moment.
a microscopic blip.
an infinitesimal glitch in the program algorithms setting them that much off from their assigned routine tasks.
chicken thigh with smashed potatoes and country gravy.
kids running around the yard laughing screaming up the street.
he starts coffee.
he loads a bowl and takes a toke.
coughs and hacks.
a cigarette.
the priest fucks the whore in ancient ritual.
different meanings than the words usually imply having been perverted for many many years by common usage.
these costumed ceremonial performances he has long rejected.
but they have their place included in with our theory of everything.
complementary opposites in opposition.
contradiction and conflict.
mint chocolate chip ice cream sandwich.
licking cold flesh.
everything is simple yet capable of great complexity.
regurgitating nonsense he’s learned and put together along the way of it.
it’s all his imagination.
but what becomes of someone like him?
refusing to follow the ways of the masters?
remaining purposefully ignorant of all things but in love with everything.
iconic images blown up video.
meaningful.
red team/blue team.
go go go.
rah rah.
another dimension involved.
dunk tank laughs.
shopping spree.

when the drunken poets have all staggered off toward home there is that one uncomfortable moment when we are faced with nothing to say between among us.
he gazes at the wealthy and ponders that by the grace of god he is not among them in the poverty of such spoiled arrogance.

give us peace.
but peace is not something we might ask for but something we gain within ourselves.
perceiving this world differently.
from hate to love.
we cannot ask others for love, but love is something we gain within ourselves.
and the same with understanding, not from others but from ourselves.
to come to understanding a zillion times a day flowing stream of consciousness of whatever comes to mind in the moment now is all that counts.
to feel om within us and without.
it stands to reason?
buddha butt plug.
the religion of the slaves.
proven on the battlefield of history.
yet the past does not exist?
our answers are riddles of questions?
we always want to understand more.
there is always more of everything, but how much more is our human capacity to understand?
we reach expanding into infinity – which may not exist?
we are touched by the divine.
it is a hopeless situation.
we are not ready to receive.
we are used up and broken down.
oh well, better luck next time.
but cracks of light become the dawn.
the cocoon is breaking open from within to without.
appearances fall away.
changing shape and form.
changing our minds.
we will always be faced with our ignorance at the edge of our knowledge.
the problem of all-knowing.
what’s next?

gazorbnik.

people eating people.
knowing and then to experience everything on and on.
we forget we are gods as we dive into it to live a mortal life as it is.
spin the wheels one more time.
down down down we go to the bottom of it.
the world of the knowledge of good and evil.
how else does karma drama occur?
we must be entertained.
he is tired of this life.
he is tired of the next life.
he is tired of hell.
he is tired of heaven.
bliss seems like it would be an eternal bore.
he wouldn’t wish it on his worst enemy – if he had enemies.
he has people who have declared themselves his enemy he needs to be wary of but he for himself has none not even among them.
they know not what they do.
earthquakes and volcanos.
wars and rumors of wars.
drought and pestilence.
another cigarette.
these have been his visions and dreams.
drawn to the chaos of it.
perfection is never good enough for him.
he sees the flaws in it.
let it go to be as it is.
death and decay.
transforming ever anew.
nothing is forever.
forever composed of infinite finite moments.
you can’t get there from here.
nope.
their paradise built and maintained against nature.
our paradise is nature.
paradise lost without hope of return.
their god against nature.
against what naturally occurs without intervention.
find peace with that.
to have it all be for our benefit if we learn to fit into it.
our success is not always for our benefit as we are finding out.
to move outside our given environment becuz we have destroyed it.
and on and on.

he goes to the store for supplies including litter for the cat box and nicotine gum and paper towels.
and cigarettes and lottery ticket.
he needs to clean the cat box.
he’s taken out the trash already.
it’s a warm sunny spring day.
nothing happening in the trailer park except a neighbor got her toilet fixed.
he takes out the recycling and checks the mail.
it’s more than warm, it’s hot outside.
he hits the inhaler.
breathe, fucker.

fried egg swiss cheese onion sandwich.
it’s all fake anyway.
nothing is real anymore.
not as it used to be, if ever.
he knows nothing of the earth.
he will die when the world is gone.
billions of others too perhaps.
oh well, it was fun while it lasted.
no one living knows death.
speculation and theory.
but seeing the cycles of the universe it’s hard not to believe in continuing of some sort.
patterns emerge and disperse.
receiving processing transmitting.
or not.
he is tired anyway.
he lives his life for what it is and then that’s it.
he won’t exist.
he won’t care.

to be free in spirit.
to be free of mind.
to wander through wilderness mindscapes along pathless paths going nowhere (now here).
to worship the sun and moon and whatever else through ages of developing consciousness toward when we need not worship anything but understand fully.
these things are symbolic keys to that which we already know in ourselves.
but the doors need to be unlocked or we may not access it that resides hidden within us.
but what is it?
what does it look like?
a wheel?
a goat with a lion’s head?
the sun?

so we dive in and surface within ourselves living and dying to find out.
there is no distinction as we know it with us as becoming enlightened without the ritual rites the others love to confuse the issue with secret mystery they claim to only understand so us common grunts will not understand and cuz then who will do the dirty work while they are relaxing in philosophic leisure?
no, the show must go on.
keep the masses in line and following orders knowing their proper place with tricks of the trade to mystify them.

power is power is power.
few let go of it once they get a taste.
keep the others ignorant and subordinate.
that’s the plan.
but we take it upon ourselves to be as we are instructed to be.
we do not realize how easy it is to create magick for ourselves to do as we please.

the more he comes to think about this shit the more he thinks it’s a buncha horseshit made up by the power elite of the ages to help them maintain order and control.
it could all be about the great cosmic banana for all it means anything significant for anyone actually seeking the nature of everything and such.
so we are left to imagine it for ourselves and make up we will about it otherwise for our own purposes.
and we have found our own secret mysteries that make sense to our imagination and reason.
what do we want to do with the others whose only motive is selfish greed?
we value our independence and freedom too much to join the ranks of groupthinkers of any persuasion and ilk even if this means we are hunted down and eliminated.
they cannot abide us or anyone who doesn’t fall into line marching to their command.
they despise us.
we are wicked and evil.
yet do we continue wars for vain profit?
do we hoard all at the expense of others left with nothing?
they have armies at their whim.
we have nothing.
they do know how to organize the masses whereas we have trouble organizing ourselves?
but why should we?
do we want to conquer others to subjugate them?
do we want to build great monuments to ourselves with their slave labor?
do we want to rape the earth for producing trinkets and gizmos?
do we want any part of their world the way they demand it?
we have our own world hidden from view from their blinded eyes.
a garden of earthly delights buried beneath the waste and ruin they create.
a world flourishing and thriving despite the injuries inflicted upon it in their ignorance.
look for it everywhere around us.
it is here now.
a world that is as it is supposed and meant to be without needing to be improved upon but to be savored.
we walk in this world as gods while others live in abject misery imposed on them by the gods of the wealthy and powerful who sit in judgment.
we are deemed unworthy.
we deserve death.
it is written in their own words in their holy books the same shit over and over again throughout the world and its history.
we are evil and will get what we deserve because we do not cooperate.
but is it them who will not cooperate with us?
they beat us down to silence us and any ideas we might have about how the world could be for all to enjoy as much as it is possible.
they love only $$$ and their $$$ is derived from and invested in our degradation and slavery.
that is their promised land they reserve for themselves and set up rites and rituals for those who wish to join them who pass the tests.
read for ourselves what they regard the rest of us as being ignorant brutes deserving endless incarnations in eternal hell as our reward.
we are to be cast out and forgotten to the oblivion of the outer darkness.
so, come all ye faithful, line up to kiss the hem of their robes humbling yourselves before them such that someday you may be included among them.
hahaha.
fat chance, fuckers.
we bow before no one in this world or any other.
we spit on anyone who demands us to do so.
we do not serve or follow.
we have our pride.
we have our sense of ourselves changing becoming.
if any are to serve they are to serve us, which they do in the way we have arranged it to be weaseling our way around it.
we who do nothing.
we who laze about enjoying our life as free as can be under the circumstances as such as they are.
we will always be with them.
they cannot shake us.
we are cockroaches.
we are not the chosen elect.
we do not wish to be invited to their garden parties of self-deception and hubris they enjoy with their cutting wit they mistake with wisdom.
we are of the earth.
damn them and their dominating sky gods they worship for divine favor of wealth and power.
we endure the reign of terror they inflict upon the unsuspecting innocent kept in ignorance and poverty.
we have no love for them.
they have none for us.
we would forgive them but they know exactly what they do.
they truly believe it is their place and right to lord over us just because they can.
their monotheistic rationalogic thinking tolerates nothing else.
in that they have been successful, if one wishes to describe what they have done to the earth and all living upon it including their own kind to be success.
them and their kingdom of god.
some anachronistic ideal of perfection.
we know better than to believe.
we who are silenced unless we parrot their dogma doo-doo of lies and deception.
and their adversaries who rebel against them are not that different or better.
they are filled with envy of their power and glory and wish it for themselves.
we do not join in marching with them either.
we join no one not even ourselves.
we are individuals living in a collective based world view philosophy.
we do what we will as we define it for ourselves right or wrong it may be judged by others.
that is the chance we take happily though with great trepidation.
we are alone in a world that has little tolerance for us.
we have been identified isolated tortured killed damned in the name of their god.
fuck them.
fuck their god.
and the duped masses indoctrinated constantly through the various media of propaganda and disinformation.
a population of obedient slaves is all the lords wish it to be.
they have no other use for us.
we would have no other use for them but that they control all the land and resources such we have little choice but to remain.
where is there to go but into our heads outta our minds?
but they are now devising ways of denying us even that.
they are lords and masters of this world.
hooray for them.
we have everything else they cannot or are unwilling to imagine is possible.
we grin with teeth clenched.
this angst and nausea that troubles us in these troubled and troubling times.
but our indefinite pursuit of happiness cannot be quenched.
we are always thirsty.
we are always wanting.
we would have it no other way.
so what god do we pray to but no god known to them but to us is familiar as the beating of our hearts?
no god answers our prayers with understanding what we need beyond what we desire.
it is no god.
no god is everything.
we laugh at their pompous foolishness that they believe will gain them heaven.
we have seen their heaven and what it entails and want nothing of it.
we will live on scraps from their feast tables.
we are doing just fine and dandy.

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…

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.

so, in continuation…

coffee.
toke.
cigarette.
he fucked up.
everything he knows is wrong.
everyone tells him so.
he’s always the last to know.
he ties to ignore it but it won’t go away.
he doesn’t wanna think about it.
what’s to think about it?
what or who should he trust?
he’s told to trust himself.
should he trust that?
what about himself should he trust?
which of the voices in his head should he listen to?
what does he know in and of himself that hasn’t originated from an external source?
it’s fucked up and all turned around.
no wonder the mystics seek to turn off the mind and find bliss.
he would too if he weren’t so lazy to dedicate himself to a life of discipline.
now he can only imagine.
can he trust his imagination?
it is of his own origin.
it is of himself enough to be himself.
did he imagine himself into existence?
himself and this world in a solipsistic simulated paradise of adventure.
perhaps.
when he dies soon he may find out.
but that is another dream humans have that in death we finally discover what it’s all about.
he imagines that as well but expects nothing more than utter oblivion.
not to worry.
he won’t exist, so what’s to worry about that?
if he feels anything it would be disappointment.
fuck.

meanwhile back in the real world he imagines himself sitting before the computer hunched over the keyboard typing out nonsense about nothing about our theory of everything as a not poem cuz he ain’t no poet on and on.
somewhere in all of this may be further clues but for now this moment he is clueless.
his head awhirl with thinking feeling processing data bits in waves of experience as it comes in through the senses and imagination washing over his mind.
or something like that.

this world all seems to be some sorta competitive contest of who wins and who loses.
he was never much interested in playing that game.
he isn’t very good about it and ends up the loser on the losing team of misfits and blunderheads and idiots, etc.
freaks of all types.
time was we were hidden away outta sight outta mind.
time was we were eliminated.
and so we invent our own ways around to it.
it is instinctive to seek understanding of everything.
to seek meaning in meaninglessness.
is meaning there or do we only project it out from ourselves?
how much of it should we trust?
jacob’s ladder on acid.

finding a moment to be here now.
to carry it with you everywhere everywhen you go.
to be calm and observant.
take it slow and cool.
to light another cigarette.

to feel the earth deep beneath the city pavement.
to feel it rising to the surface.
to feel living life.
he has always imagined a world of decaying dead artifacts of our civilization overgrown with life.
and bands of humans hunting gathering among them.
he envisioned the forests growing where once mown lawns had been.
and so on.

he’s really dumb a lot of the time.
isn’t paying much attention.
in a dreaming state of mind.
dreaming about his bundle of joy.

if it is a dream he will accept that if he is the dreamer.
who else?
should he be one of a cast of billions in another’s dream?
perhaps – if he dreams that is how it should be then that is how it is.
or not.

or we are all dreamers weaving a common dream world into a shared reality we experience alone together.
so, where do the dreamers come from except perhaps have always been dreaming for so long none can remember it ever beginning?
it has always been.
we have always been.
we awaken to ourselves.
be careful.
it may not be such a pretty sight to behold.
who knows?

the mystic masters will tell us that they know and tell us stories of eternal bliss consciousness and all that jazz.
do we trust them?
how come?
they could be telling us what we want to hear.
think about it.
it’s probably a scam from the word go.
it’s worked for 1000s of years so why should it not continue to do so for a 1000 more?
he needs to experience it to believe it – and he would doubt it even then.
why not?

and he doesn’t accept this idea that it is only for those privileged few who manage to struggle to find it.
what kinda bullshit is that?
if it exists it should be our given nature not something we need to fucking earn and pay for.
fuck that shit.

he imagines it is our given nature but that being in this world governed by others corrupts it into something else a bit less desirable.
our desires and fears bring us to this world to play them out in fabulous titillating stimulation.
the muck of a world that brings forth the lotus blossom floating on the surface of a pond of tranquility.
or something like that.

but here we are in this muck world like it or not.
the unenlightened ignorant idiots.
billions of us.
stupid.
unaware that there is anything odd going on at all.
get up and go to work.
get up and go to play.
get up and go to sleep with all the racket going on from those who know truth trying to wake us up with their alarm and excitement.
asleep and dreaming.

and this world could be an illusion covering over just about most anything we might imagine.
he gets befuddled thinking about it.
so he doesn’t much think about it – not seriously anyway.
that shit’ll drive you mad.
illusion within illusion within illusion.
it’s fun to speculate about though if you might wanna play a game with yourself.
take it for a spin around the block.
see how it fits.

he does realize that he is on his own in this wilderness.
himself and his imagination.
his imaginary friends.
his imaginary self.
whatever.
alone in a maze of mirrors reflecting images seemingly to infinity and beyond.
as if.
alone on an island in the eye of a storm raging on an otherwise calm sea.
the sea is humanity.
if there is any such thing.

he thinks about it.
what little he knows about it
he thinks about it this way and that way and the other way.
he thinks about it all the ways he can think of to think about it.
everything seems to lead him to solipsism.
bah.
he does not accept that.
a mad god laughing screaming alone in the void inside his head.
baloney.
he doubts it.
but what else is it?
who might be able to prove to him that they exist?
how?
punch him in the nose?
he’ll only bleed imaginary blood and feel imaginary pain.
perhaps.
or not.

he is not really that aloof as the others tell him he should be.
he clings to this world for dear life.
it is the only life he knows – having perhaps forgotten any other.

it comes and goes.
waves and the tides and the moon.
and the concrete cities washing away.
whatever.

he is done with space and time.
what a drag.
how confining.
he seeks everything everywhere everywhen and will be satisfied with nothing less.
and he gazes out and sees that it is all here now as much as can be perceived in this world.
he sees light and shadow and all other forms of duality there need be to create such a realistic illusion that it is confused with reality itself perhaps.
or not.
a world of pain and anguish and suffering and misery.
a world of abused sick starving neglected children of all ages.
all of us.
and it’s all our fault.
we are in error and must be corrected.
rejects from the perfect machine.
he laughs at that.

pacing in a cage.
back and forth over and over.
no way out.
even death may not be escape – but it is perhaps worth a try at some point.
the point of no return.
maybe later.
it’s coming of its own accord anyway.
suicide by cigarette.

where are the bright happy thoughts he should be thinking?
but he has always been of dark foreboding mind.
anything can happen at any time as he has learned.
happiness is carelessness.
watch out.

so, in conclusion – though there is never any conclusion but goes on and on and so on.
so, in continuation…

???

beefsteak

discrete ambivalence yearning for understanding.
poke its eye out.
heebee jeebees.
divine intervention at a distance from the heart.
subversive entertainment as seen on tv with distraught uninvited house guests discussing plans for escape from this dimension.
he farts while imagining himself sitting before the computer laughing to himself about his predicament hunched over the keyboard typing out a not poem manifesto about our theory of everything.
a toke.
a cigarette.
a hot dog.
brown leaves tumbling dancing in the street.
he wishes he was a tree.
if he comes back to this earth that is what he wants to be.
he’ll probably be one that’s cut down for $$$ by stupid humans.
oh well.

he hates humans.
he hates being one with all their selfish greed that contributes nothing to the earth but destroys it everywhere they go.
those who had lived with the earth have been exterminated being considered ignorant savages by those who thought of themselves as being civilized and their superiors.
and they still do.
we are the fly in the ointment.
the beautiful elegance of the earth marred by our very presence and all that we do and continue doing forever.
we are so fucking stupid.
yet look how high we hold our heads up – especially when our pockets are full of $$$.
there is no hope.

yet here he is among them making do with what he’s got to make do with which is next to nothing but he makes it somehow finding someway to be taken care of in his simple fashion.
to have more means you have to fucking work for it.
fuck that shit.

why do we assume that beings that may live on others planes of existence in other dimensions and such are more conscious and intelligent than us?
why are we always the stupid ones?
anyone born to this species is born into a life of stupidity.
there’s no way around it.
we are all each more than we are.
this is a gross misrepresentation.
but it’s gotta be someone who plays the part, so why not us?
as long as it’s not one of them.
they are too important.
they cloak themselves in divinity to disguise their actual twisted forms.
and we flock to them begging at their feet.
rise above, people.

fly above.
dive below.
same difference.
we are instinctively culturally programmed to believe higher is superior than beneath.
it’s the way we socially structure ourselves.
those who live on thrones and those who live in the dirt.
fucking monkeys.
arrrgh!

and how soon he will leave this world behind.
if he never sees it again it’ll be too soon, as they say in the cartoons.
he’ll gladly watch as it blinks out of existence as he imagines like an old tv screen disappearing into a fading point of light and then gone.
he’s seen this vision before once when he got ECTs.
a wonderful time that was – what little he can now remember.
a mad god laughing screaming alone in the void inside his head.
the best friend he’s ever had.

everything comes and goes.
what goes around comes around.
and all that jazz.
the karma machine keeping track of all our misdeeds and our compassion.
spin that wheel one more time.
how many more times must he remain here before he’s learned the lessons the higher avatars are trying to teach us?
all about light and goodness.
fuck them.

fuck all those who try to school him.
school’s out, baby.
haven’t you heard the news?
we have been held down for too long.
fuck them being holy and shit.
fuck them and the goat they rode in on.

fuck them.
fuck their $$$.
fuck their power.
fuck their authority.

he’s pissed that he even needs to think about this shit.
but they have taken control of everything and leave no one any other option.
it should not be.
they should not exist.
fucking parasites.
they suck on our energy until we are drained and useless and die.
they always want more and more.

but we are the fools.
we allow them to do this.
refuse.
resist.
do not participate in the game where they make to the rules and they always win and we always lose.
they feel they must be glorified.
we spit in their face.
they damn us to hell.
fuck it.
it’s worth it.

hell.
that’s where the party is, baby.
the place is jumping.
twist and shout.
be here now.
tomorrow we die.
oblivion is the best we can hope for.
they command heaven for themselves.

beefsteak.