absurd manifestations of thought – part 6

our dear one beloved –

so it all goes among those of us who perceive and experience 4 dimensions, 3 spatial 1 temporal. exciting. it might seem the clown thinks while typing not p0em that 4 dimensions are perhaps the minimal for anything to be perceived as existing – and of course perhaps not. you decide what. we can tell you nothing. we can suggest to you everything. does that seem about right?

right and wrong sitting in a tree, k-i-s-s-i-n-g.
1st comes love, then a barrage, then you’re suddenly sleeping in someone’s garage.

eat the rich, they are deliciously disgusting. a gun is so much fun, get to kill everyone, saith the lord of beasts. we are nothing. some people don’t get the joke.
is there a joke? what’s so funny about the abused sick starving neglected? what’s not so funny?

the clown thinks about if he should be writing anything. maybe nothing at all. it’s snowing. ridiculed for everything he does or doesn’t do. but maybe that’s all just in his head. that doesn’t seem to matter much in the grand schemes of things being schemed. he wonders.

awakening another day the clown brews coffee and has a smoke and a toke. he continues not p0em. it’s medication time. it’s trash day. it’s a winter wonderland outside, sun reflecting everywhere. that is all.

and the question going around is if we know where we are going. who’s the navigator of this mad voyage we’ve been set upon by the townspeople who want no more to do with us. away to paradise, the journey is the destination – haha.

planting evidence at the scene of crimes against humanity. everyone is a suspect, are we not? fuck that. we take a walk, nevermind this talky talk talk. what shape will be things to come. a world at war with itself forever until time stops still at the velocity of light of a singularity on/off.
±0.

the clown sits down in a room spinning ’round gyroscopic in up out down – or is that the universe perchance?
do we wish to dance taking a chance?
hooray for victory. she graces us again. but there are many different complex directions everything could take from here on out from every passing moment without a doubt, without a trace across the face of the great machine everyone knows as nancy.

should we believe a damn bit of information submitted to us for our approval? we should have known better before now, but everything is a secret, and the secret’s come outta the closet and into a bag of tricks. the trick is in the pudding. the pudding is artificially flavored refuse from the chemical plants that employ the bulk of the various local populations dotted around the world.

3:3
everything’s mix and match. that could be a good thing. that could be a bad thing. as usual it’s mix and match of both. good answer.
he wanders up on the hill with all the burning flags flapping in the winds when he demands everyone to surrender. no one obeys him but ignores him to continue fighting on for yet another dismal victory.
we watch it all on tv with its fake propaganda laughing all the way to the bank of the river where we are lounging in the sun eating honey all day.

it’s time for pineapple and for cranberry juice. that should help clean him out a little. the chunks of pineapple cold hurting his sensitive teeth that he has left by now.
the clown naps.

awakening.
go go godzilla.
a zillion things to do and not one of them actually really matter but for him doing it while he has the time and inclination for the moment. everything for the moment – now. it happens now or doesn’t happen. everything split and set into motion by ±0, a make believe location at the center of the universe as has been explained before. on either/or off. understand?

it is possible, more or less. it’s surreal. but what is surreal in a surreal universe? is it a return to the norm however misshapen it might be by now after all these 1000s of years alone and unwanted by itself? do you know how it feels? creepy crawly up and down your spine sideways until it breaks on through to the other side of this life.

until then, we act like nothing’s happening at all. is it? what could it be? more of the ongoing mystery, like an arrow into the heart of the matter of factual account assigned to upcoming spirits moaning from their graves they dug themselves into becoming?

how does everything happen we are still in the process of discovering. the project is the object. understand that and you will understand many things about how everything happens within and without – no kidding, baby.

silence in the underworld. we are done for in this place. who would have us? we are trouble for everyone it seems.
small matter for people’s tiny brains that spark a few times and then go out. we are complete to ourselves as we understand it. no one will deny us this. people lit up by collective energy groupthink sucking them in without them quite knowing what’s happening. we do not need alien overlords, we can do the job ourselves. we are doing the job ourselves. nobody does it better than us.

starvation rations. what will they think up next? the wars in the sacred holy lands everywhere. take up arms for your god, baby. show them how it’s done. and the clown feels at this juncture he should mention something about the snow. what would we do different if black was white and white was black? perhaps we should ask the wizard to listen to what she has to say.

everything has been made correct in our world as it should be and should have been since the beginning, until the fuckers took it over and twisted everything the way it is for their own amusement and benefit.
but we got rid of them. and we are them.

but do we get it yet? is there any it to get? it is it, that same old song of ages past. what’s the last thing we remember? oddly enough, we cannot recall. it’s maybe been a dream or 3. no commercial potential. all of a sudden there are those among us concerned about the  way we dress. can’t we look like other people look looking at us in a menagerie of funny faces? who’s who here? who am us?

100+ hours of our precious time wasted more or less. pet the kitty. follow the interconnecting thread of it. let it lead you on pathless paths you know the way to go but not always whether you are reacting to your desires or your fears. it’s a decision only you can make, whether\ to follow orders or not. we might suggest, or not. trust us – if you want to.

blow your fucking face off out past the gas station of infinity. feel it grow within you till your heart’s content.
these are the fantasies we dreamed about with little contact to common reality which may not be common at all. pick up sticks. the clown remembers something else. stealing from the best as luck would have it he spins around as he hears his name called but to no avail up his asshole.

decadent false reasoning coming up with holy baloney as far as your eye might see into what may or may not be past and/or future. the moment is now passing into another which (witch) is also now. logically there is no time, but who wants to be logical? there is no time, therefore there is no motion – or the other way around. but what does that do for us? if we come to realize its truth will we awaken? perhaps.

there is no truth in an absurd universe, or else everything is true. but is our universe absurd or not? answers go along the spectrum thin on one end, fat in the middle, and thin again at the other end.

it’s easy on easy street. easy to be a bum. the best bums are here crashing the doors of the burning theater to get a peek at the ongoing show of shows.
who cares?
none of the polite people, the rational reasonable people, the people with $$$. they take the cake. off with their heads, baby.

no such thing as motion is one way to view it, in no time at all. everything traveling at the velocity of light which itself then becomes ±0 for some reason we haven’t quite figured out yet – or made it up.
actually we feel that if we come to realize any truth we become awakened, awakened to that truth.

over and out.
so long, suckers.

 

changing our minds

document 19 –
(haven’t we been around here before?)

our dear one beloved:
it would seem from figments of our imagination we do appear to be located somewhere somewhen, though we have yet to determine where when that location is other than being here now – yes?
but why should that be a problem? is it a problem? not as much as we can tell. here now is everything being everywhere everywhen. and here now past and future vanish from consciousness except in regard to our functioning in the world we still partly exist in though many more worlds besides.

the universe is here now. where when else would it be?
an infinity of here nows, each different, each composed of different unique continuing configurations of spacetime continuums la-dee-da.
11:11

nothing but refined tap water we lick our lips for more. a world going to heaven and hell. enjoy your ride – wheee.
coffee, olives, toke, cigarette.
typing not p0em cuz he ain’t no poet.
lukewarm churches dotted across the land for the true and faithful to fear and put behind them. nothing is safe in this world created by the adversary. or not.
where does our free will stand with so many telling us what to do and with limited access to needed information? be careful.
but nothing is all that evil, nor is it all that good. and we place ourselves between them for them to play tug o’ war with our souls (selves).
not for us. we transcend this realm of disappointments never meeting our expectations.

and some preacher in some poor outback somewhere tells everyone he’s gonna fly from the roof of the church tomorrow afternoon. and that afternoon comes and people have gathered to see the sight, and soon the preacher shows up with a ladder which he leans against the church and climbs up onto the roof and stands on the edge. everyone is quiet when it seems the preacher offers a prayer to god before he suddenly leaps from the roof spreading his arms like wings and plummets to the ground and breaks his neck and dies.
the moral of the story is, at the least the preacher tried to fly. and what have you done today?

the clown does little to nothing all day and night but thinks of shit to think about, writing some of it down as not p0em, his contribution to the overall ongoing schemes of it sending out groovy vibrations questioning everything needing to be questioned – (excuse us but, could you please phrase that as a question?)
having the right question is perhaps more important than having the right answer.

come to us now, get up off your knees if you want to. it is possible. do it in your heads. what’s stopping you?
do you perhaps feel you are not worthy? who has told you this but just a buncha ego-inflated wise guys? what do they know? they know how to make $$$ from people like you, that’s about all. go to them, sign over everything to their name.
what fools we have been, but no more. the day of reckoning is coming. the truth will be known. decide what side of all sides you wanna be on – or none.

it’s us against them and it is best perhaps to be associated with none of them locked in this contest with is really alpha-ape against alpha ape and as many others they might muster together for their cause of glory and honor like rats after the promise of cheese – haha.
gaze through this looking glass and what do we see but lazy people hanging about like everything is hunky dory peachy keen fine all the time. is it not? who tells us this? who reveals all the horror of this world? and do we believe them? why should we? we have our own worlds to believe in, worlds where when we do not need to be forgiven and saved. what have we done other than be human?

the clown tries not to smoke so much, but he refuses to be a non-smoker. to find balance between good and evil, life and death, as it should be the way he likes it. but trouble is coming every day to mix it up so he doesn’t get so settled down to get too comfortably atrophied into nonexistence.
oh no. speed it up – let’s go, man, go!

worlds prosper and thrive beyond our worlds which are seemingly to be dying. but it could be labor pains of cosmic birth by mother earth. or not.
but what would that mean to anyone experiencing it?
606

people plow on being approximately themselves without regrets contrary to their sense of being alive eating PB&J sandwiches. with most everything being beyond him the clown continues typing not p0em for no good reason.
goddamn, a world where even the time of day is propaganda. everything is propaganda it would seem, but is even that propaganda itself? who knows where the truth and where the lies really are? do we trust our own perceptions, experience, thinking, imagining? does the clown trust his own kitty?

but this all gets to be too much already. what more should we suspect? is this the lathe of heaven? whatever for? what horrible thing are we avoiding by doing this? who wants to be polite when it’s so easy to panic?
collective fields of spacetime producing “waves” and “particles”. we seem to not really be able to tell the difference, if there is any. the clown is hungry but doesn’t know what he wants to eat of all the dead food that’s available. we eat death. it comes in many shapes and sizes and colors. hooray for death. without it we would not be able to live.
but does anything really “die”? but of course not. everything is dead already. our spirit and souls animate it into life so we might enjoy it if we can. many cannot.
but what is so exciting about life that it provides any amount enjoyment for anyone? but when the shoe is on the other foot what is so exciting about death either?

can anyone hear you screaming? they turn and walk away until you are alone to yourself. the clown feels he has lost track of who’s what and what’s who. does that matter? he thinks he likes it better this way. he has a friend on the street who’s blowing it with his drinking. oh well, what can one do?
so much of the world we can do nothing about everyone who is fucked up. in this world they are on their own. we are all on our own when the shit hits the fan. he has entered a world of chaos and despair. he shines on nonetheless to himself in his own mind which is where it’s at, baby.
or not.

if we all got it together what wonderful things we might accomplish, but that ain’t happening. not in this world anyway. we’ll have to wait for the next… or the next… and on and on from there.
meanwhile the clown has a bagel with cream cheese and blackberry jam and more coffee.
amen.

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.

 

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.

[=]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

he is home.
it’s time for a nap.

who will start the parade?

no one knows the way we’ve been to come here while everyone is shrinking down in size.
listening to brandenburg concertos kinda sideways of mind.
not much caring anymore.
the dream is over.
mistaken identity.
how can we forget ourselves so easily?
and the flames went higher.
everything tasting so sweet.
take all the chances we might need to.
do not feed the ducks.
the last to remember what it was like before everything turned for the worse.
it was never that much better.
there was no golden age we shared.
but the future looked bright instead of dimly fading back to the shadows again.
but there was no past and there will be no future except as passing illusions in our brain reflex thing in the moment.
but nothing stands still.
it takes time to shake that groove thing.
there is some confusion here not too many would notice while busy with their excitement.
the deal comes around every time for each.
reach out and grab it if we can.
too bad if not.
it occurs to us now.
asleep in the dark before a new dawn of human kind.
alien midwives.
birth is a bitch, baby.
so much to go wrong.
but so much has gone wrong already.
is there anyone who doesn’t believe it?
though we never agree about what it might be that has gone wrong.
aion.
who would have thought art would ultimately destroy the world?
if you call that art.
art of 1000 deceptions.
pop pop pow every 15 minutes.
bleeding visitors to the abandoned museum.
gray overcoats ashen faces shadows.
a maze of mirrors cracked and broken gleaming in the dawn sun finally.
fortune comes to some while others are wanting.
duh.
obvious observations yet there are those who do not realize.
the gods explain everything they want to think about, not too much.
the broken in spirit destitute of heart staggering unbelievingly through the world.
while the joyful ones dance and sing.
fall down.
laugh.
the show must go on.
the noise of it builds as the general population anxiety index levels rise.
upside down and backwards.
kick it around umpteen times.
chocolate muffin.
ginger ale.
cigarette.
dead whore his face smashed in.
refusal.
resistance.
the crowd of thoughtcrime alibis.
interwoven connections through the spheres.
tenuous threads web thing.
changing evolving.
mind shift/ship.
gazorbnik.
in the hereafter we will be surprised by everything and nothing.
in the hereafter it will be all be unicorns, daises and rainbows if we really want it or whatever else turns us on.
in the hereafter we will still pursue our happiness but realize it’s the journey that is the destination.
heaven on earth or living hell.
what will be so different?
as he lights a cigarette having awakened to another day with dawn sunlight coming in through the window facing the mountain to the east.
candyland possibilities.
he needs to clean the cat box, go to the store for supplies and take out the trash.
in the hereafter there will be nothing familiar, all is strange.
he should be taking photographs of spring flowers.
our extinction is nigh.
a buncha freaks everyone could do without.
let’s get our shit together.
no more doubt.
no more laziness.
just those who answer the call to duty.
his life has been writing on water.
as it should be.
no cast bronze statues of him sitting before the computer hunched over the keyboard typing out a not poem cuz he ain’t no poet about our theory of everything.
will people, if they are actually people, still think about everything in the hereafter?
or will everything be forgotten?
everything causes troubling thoughtcrimes.
when we discover everything we know is wrong.
we don’t care.
let them eat cake.
we have our time and place now here (nowhere).
to hell with everything else.
there is no future but there is a future.
when both are true at the same time we know we are on the right wrong path.
never mind what the others say, they’ll talk about us anyway.
as technology changes us.
becoming.
we all are mutants, variations on a theme improvised on the spot.
x marks the spot.
let x=x.
die hard advocates of truth and steadfast integrity.
the status quo.
the established order.
boy, things sure are exciting.
and scary.
what is to become?
the last gasp of a dying generation.
old and in the way.
the new youth marching to their long awaiting graves singing popular songs.
out of the mouths of gods.
speaking the truth once and for all to understand.
harmony among the discordant demographics of the discontent.
everyone finds their place in the scheme of things.
but we get to sit around doing nothing witnessing the antics of the others around us in this human dharma drama yin yang thing going around around onward upward never repeating quite the same toward higher more refined realms of tranquility and good taste perfected by incarnations of struggling endurance.
throughout the impending weather we continue rain or shine.
red cinnamon gummy bear.
what is time but relative to the situation we might happen to be in?
what is a day?
what is a year?
this is nothing within a larger picture of the whole über-infinity plenum void of everything.
but that has nothing to do with us beyond something to enjoy imagining for the moment as it comes to mind.
ours is the real world of cold hard facts.
this is this.
that is that.
the other thing is the other thing.
etc.
rationalogic saves the day and night of our loneliness in anti-philosophic despair seeking new found joys.
armed encampments on the shores of the nearby distant sea.
troubled waters of the deep.
shipwrecked ships.
preparing for and making war with one another.
our favorite pastime.
we lay ourselves down to sleep 1000 years.
the new zion.
who will start the parade?

meanwhile, back at the ranch…

secret shadows chilling the heart.
r awakens late.
takes his meds.
has a toke and a cigarette.
he comes to the café sitting by the window with a mocha in hand and pen in the other scribbling a not poem into a notebook because he can.
imaginary people all around.
let’s get it straight or crooked as the law allows as the case may be.
so many other facets of this world to explore having been rejected and excluded by rationalogic reasoning maintaining proper order among the gathered rabble of masses clamoring for more.
only through strength and victory may we preserve and attain our desires fulfilled and our fear overcome they tell us.
if that is the way we want to go.

calling out the forbidden names of the unforgiven among us who have been cast out and forgotten broken down on the freeway of life headed to the promised land.
we will return again and again being born into their rank and number some unpredictable random natural genetic mix up glitch thing.
flies in the ointment of their perfected gene pool.
poison to their purity.
they will wonder what went wrong.

we will wonder where it has all gone into the rite of spring flowers.
attention to detail.
jesus walks on water, but does he dance the boogaloo?
a mind of confused doubt licking at the door.

he puts pen to paper to scribble out thoughts that scatter away in all directions from home is where the heart is leaving him feeling alone in a wilderness of strangers familiar to himself.
20th century angst misplaced in a 21st century world.
anxiety.
teeth clenched grin and shaky fists.
he turns the page in the notebook to begin again.

satan/natas, the wicked one, laughing its last laugh rejoicing burning on its throne in heaven.
nothing could be more complete unending forever.
accepting the world as given without fact or fiction.
what we deduce from experience ourselves.
pajamas.
flying cockroaches.
everything is evil if we choose.
we give everything meaning.
to know what is truth or not.
everything is truth, is it not?

a published poet once tells him he is more or less nothing scum of the earth not worth giving the time of day.
walk on by where when he stares blank faced into spacetime seeing everything at once all the time a change of tune eating away at his brain.
how he loves and/or hates without feeling anything about it one way or another.
to arrive at a balance between and beyond complementary opposites in opposition.
a full moon.
a full belly.
to continue without beginning nor end head in hand he smiles politely as the lord god almighty enters the door bathed in radiant beams of light.
having nothing nice to say he remains silent.
the lord glances his direction with burning eyes before walking up to the counter ordering a vanilla nectar latte to go.
god loves old songs over and over.
god loves dogs who behave themselves and poop where they should.
it’s only right.
to feel that devotion in one’s heart for the lord.
to feel betrayed.
to hold faith despite the consequences.
they have taken over our minds with propaganda of their truth speaking in sliver tongues.
and he returns home.

the grand hurrah of living.
the dull boredom filled with busy work of pleasure seeking.
eat it.
eat it all.
yummy.
don’t choke on it.
separate the wheat from the chaff.
all things are true.
to be the servant of oneself.
to be obedient to one’s word.
to know how to command the spirit.
the lost arts in the post-postmodern age.

if we just all agree to look at everything reasonably together.
not as a set of rules but as a place to begin.
but too many questions arise.
the 1st being perhaps, whose reason do we use?
who is the judge of what is and what is not reasonable?
is being red-faced shouting in anger reasonable?
it would seem so to us from the perspective of our own understanding.
is war reasonable?
etc.

we will never make it that way.
does there need to be any sorta one agreement by everyone?
agree to what?
gazorbnik?
who would disagree with that besides those who make a living disagreeing with others?
and whatnot like that.
a turkey with pepper jack sandwich and a ginger ale.
we don’t need to agree anything about gazorbnik, we would only need to agree to agree on gazorbnik as is itself.
it’s a beginning.
we could explore what else we might wanna agree to agree on for what it is itself.
or not.
probably not, for many diverse reasons.
but could everyone all agree together to agree not to agree on gazorbnik?
that would work the same and is probably more realistic to the actual situation of the way how people actually behave among themselves when left to their own devices.

so we’d be in the same fix we are now.
if it is in a fix.
is it?
to many it would seem to be so.
but what sorta fix are we in if we are in one?
a fix of the knowledge of good and evil creating the best and worst of all possible worlds built by our own true intentions.
step back.
perceive a wider perspective.
consider it being illusion.
and so on.
consider everything we know is wrong.
a red delicious apple, a little bit bruised.
no, everything among us is exactly the way we wish and will it to be all of us together at once with everything factored in and cancelled out and such in the moment by the grand deluxe reality simulation god machine thing, yes?
the great gazorbnik mix of it.
the gestalt of everything.
and all that jazz.

boldly going where everyone has been before.
alone isolated among billions of others in the same world but different everywhere.
interconnected global communications.
the din of babbling idiots.
everything we desire and fear.
it all has a niche to fill.
it all has an itch to scratch.
cracked light.

he’s been abandoned by many.
too lazy and crazy.
they become weary, fed up.
he becomes too strange, predictably unpredictable.
he goes it alone for the most part which is kinda how he actually likes it.
yet he is not self-sufficient, not like a tree.
he was born into this socially dependent species and relies on others to survive.
he has jumped from sinking ship to sinking ship to sinking ship along the way so far till now.
here on easy street.
the government bums all hang out and meet.
he stays alone in his room looking out the window.
a sunny warm spring day here in the trailer park.
he went to the bank in the supermarket but the line was too long.
fuck it.

knowing and understanding are two entirely different things as he is using them.
he doesn’t know much of nothing.
he is understanding more of everything.
one is thought.
one is intuition.
thinking.
feeling.

but we aren’t supposed to feel.
it is irrational.
it cannot be computed.
logic man would claim it doesn’t then exist.
we think about our experience.
we feel our experience.
fuck the logic of it.
gazorbnik.

anyway, his baby comes home with food from the café.
lasagna alfredo with garlic bread.
he makes coffee.
a toke.
a cigarette.
off we go again.
his grandson believes he is gonna be emperor of the world.
fancy that.
right now he lives on the tender mercy of the state.
r doubts his grandson would be so generous as that under his rule.
who knows?
we will probably never find out – or maybe we will.
he’d need too much $$$ to defend his position just as it is now with our military industrial complex thing going perpetuating itself upon us to the exclusion of all else.
r sighs.
this is always the way in this world and perhaps the whole of the universe which so far as we know is everything that exists depending upon what one’s definition of existing is.
is it only that which exists in spacetime detectable by our physical senses?
is it what we might imagine?
or whatever.

r sleeps.
he awakens some time later.
commonly referred to as a nap.
a toke.
a cigarette.
reading what he’s written so far he scratches his head and continuing to type out a not poem theory of everything manifesto report to the committee.
the first and the last.
it is it.
zen thing.
making our heart sing.
moving and grooving.
he takes his meds.
he spaces out picking at scabs of dead skin on the back of his head.
he is still sleepy.
secure envelope.
capable of either abstract thought and/or concrete thought.
ghost riders in the sky.
most everyone can see them but perhaps probably logic man.
are they real?
most would agree not.
fantasy images that exist as part of everything whether being real or not.
able to be communicated.
green ideas sleep furiously.
a rock is a rock.
where are the lines drawn to distinguish between fantasy and reality?
rationalogic reason?
it that the final answer?
or is it a bagful of questions spilled on the floor in a puddle of puke?
reinventing the wheel.
signals crossed.
support our troops.
ideals of beauty and ugly dismissed with a wave of his hand.
a marble statue?
a can of garbage?
a can of garbage on a marble statue?
toilet paper in the trees as a fitting memorial to those who have struggled and lost.
we march on.
the war machine.
humanity in prison.
meditate peace energy as far and wide as possible in whichever way we are able considering the circumstances and our condition in the situation.
peace.
om.

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.

is this a joke?

our senses distract from our perception of it.
our thoughts distract from our perception of it.
but once it is perceived it is in everything.
every flower.
every dog turd.
everything becomes eternal paradise.
supposedly.
if this is the situation he wonders why it is not our natural state but something we must work to attain disciplining ourselves to overcome ourselves to be in tune with it becuz our natural state is a degraded mess of ignorance for some reason.
why do we have senses?
why do we have thoughts?
what is this world?
all must be discarded until we are left with nothing but our being.
until then we must suffer.

he believes this is possibly what is but he doesn’t understand why it is.
who can be satisfied with bliss while others are wanting?
who can be that greedy and selfish?
it has always seemed like belonging to an exclusive country club to him.
we’re either in or we’re out.

but nothing can be done about that he can think of.
he could do as required and he too could belong.
but why?
why when so many are left out by the billions?
but godhead is unapproachable.
godhead is what it is and does not alter its position that this is what is to be.
there is no appeal or petition.
we can only submit to its demands.
it holds us hostage.

this sucks.

he wakes up and makes coffee.
a toke.
a cigarette.
yawn.
he does not know what is evil or not.
godhead is supposedly the highest good but he is not entirely convinced that is true.
what it puts us through is cruel and unusual torment for no reason but for its own glorification it seems.
there is no love but the love of itself gazing into its own reflection everywhere everywhen in everything.
he has always had doubts about becoming too deeply involved in that.
something’s fishy.

but many strive for it to become it.
he thinks they are fools being taken in by what they do not understand having not thought it out.
perhaps he thinks it out too much.
he doesn’t think so.
why is he given a brain if it only works against him?

it’s medication time.

he feels like he’s been had.
perhaps by his own self – this ego thing the wise guys tell us about that we are and are not.
he must be at the lowest point that there is being passed by and pushed down by those interested in only their own salvation at any cost.
maybe that’s not the way it is but whatever way it is it seems to him it is not working.
it seems something artificial made up by humans not something of nature.
the dragonfly naturally emerges from itself without needing to study and learn how.
it just happens.
why not us as well to naturally emerge from ourselves into godhead as easy as the dragonfly to itself with wings?
why all the bullshit we make up about it?
becuz somebody has to make $$$ from it somehow.
that’s the point of all human activity.
what a drag.

what suffering do we endure that is not primarily caused by others of our human kind?
and for what?
for greed.
greed for all that is good for ourselves and never mind anyone else.
grab all we can while we can.
and what is true on earth seems to be true in heaven.
there are those who have it and are in and those who don’t have it and are out.
what does he need with any of this?

he isolates himself from as much as he is able while being forced to live in this world.
he remembers when he came to his senses and realized he is in this world.
suddenly.
involuntarily.
kidnapped by space pirates from his beloved blue neptune home and brought here with no explanation given.
he has struggled to understand what the fuck.
he learned enough about this world to figure out how to survive.
he felt so much was missing that he could not remember.
and he began dreaming paying little attention to anything else – except SEX and other pleasures.
and he thinks about everything.
and in all the thinking leading him down a spiraling involuting path toward solipsism.
a mad god laughing screaming alone in the void inside his head.
and shit like that.
a god inside a maze of infinite mirrors of infinite reflections gazing upon itself in astonishment.
the gestalt of everything radiating living consciousness vibrating throughout itself.
all this for nothing.
everything is nothing.
nothing is everything.
we seem to be somewhere in the middle perhaps though we could be anywhere here now which is everything everywhere everywhen.

but his idea about solipsism is that we all are each solipsists yet collectively connected into a common reality for some odd reason he doesn’t know why.
we each individually and collectively create sustain destroy this common reality as we deem fit with our will.
but who has command of their will or does it wander off on its own merrie way?
his will has always been to be lazy and get away with it.
his will is to think and write about everything.
a report to the committee.
we are them.
i am.
it.

it is it.
simple.
it is it itself.
but we have gone long beyond simple in our thinking and being in this world.
his nature and nurture and indoctrination.
no wonder he was confused most of his life with the knots he had been twisted into he had to untangle without really knowing whatever the fuck he was doing or quite why but wandering pathless paths through a mindscape wilderness toward unknown destinations nowhere (now here).
what this world lacks he imagines.
he has to imagine nearly everything as this world has nearly nothing of any use or interest to him aside what he needs to know to survive here.
he steals ideas from any various sources from comic books to scripture that might aid him in his pursuit of happiness and beyond.
and la-dee-dada like that and so on.

he knows that i am.
who cannot claim the same?
we are i am.
goo-goo-ga-joob for all the good that it does.
a world based on scarcity and self-interest.
a universe based on scarcity and self-interest.
godhead based on scarcity and self-interest.
all each of which are reflections of the others.
he watches and waits.
he wonders which will make the trains to run on time.

does he originate in the world or in godhead?
he has no idea.
the argument goes both ways for and against and blah blah blah.
he knows nothing from his experience that he is aware of.
human imagining god.
god imagining human.
a serpent swallowing its tail.
and on and on like that and then some.

god sitting before a computer hunched over a keyboard typing out a not poem cuz god ain’t no poet about a theory of everything.
god caught being human in a world of human ignorance.
is this how it works?
perhaps.
perhaps not.

it’s a mystery.
yet many claim to know the truth of it.
but as near as he can determine all their ideas are $$$ making schemes for themselves in this world and perhaps worlds beyond.
the wise guys are those with the marketing skills to present their product in the most desirable fashion for the masses to want to consume.
but suppose it is for real and there is something behind it.
but suppose he is already here now?
he watches and waits.

the gods creating a playground for themselves out of the boredom of their eternal bliss consciousness thing.
an amusement park full of rides to delight them.
ho-hum.
he’s never liked amusement parks much nor the rides they offer.
he is boring but never bored.
his imagination provides all the entertainment he might wish.
he imagines attaining godhead.
he imagines other worlds to become.
he imagines everything.
he imagines doing it himself though he is advised against that by the wise guys who want their cut of the action.
fuck them.
he wants it all for himself.

he just doesn’t get the world.
the rest he understands.
but why a world specifically for the ignorant?
should there be ignorant?
he doesn’t believe there needs to be except as it inflates the pride of those with knowledge.
wouldn’t anyone want to be center stage in the spotlight espousing wisdom to the unenlightened?
and the wise guys tell us to rid ourselves of ego.
hahaha.

he lives in the world without living in the world.
he wanted to see how the ignorant lived their lives firsthand.
observe and report to the committee.
what sorrowful existence they lead in a world that seems absurd and set against them constantly.
someone should do something about that.
hahaha.
the wise guys just feed on them for all they are worth.
as does he.
he takes very little preferring the simple life.
a simple life for a simple mind.

the wise guys live off promising promised lands.
he lives off being categorized as being insane.
which is better or worse?

he is in this world but not of this world except his flesh and blood.
all worlds are distractions.
he is not interested in any of them no matter how refined they might be.
all are gross forms of the original which is true paradise.
here he imagines sitting in a garden on an island in the eye of a storm raging on an otherwise calm sea.
the sea is humanity.

he is sitting on a fence.
he cannot decide which is what about anything.
it’s all a mystery to him so deep is his ignorance.
should his ignorance concern him?
how is he to attain heaven without knowledge the wise guys are selling?
is this a joke?

he decides what’s what.
he flips a coin.
to be and not to be.
it comes and goes.
he comes and goes.
sometimes he’s on it.
sometimes he’s not.
oh well.

he has guru jeff (the dada-ananda).
he has learned the way (tao) of the insane.
he has picked up the pieces of his broken mind off the temple floor.
he has refused to kiss anyone’s ass.
he has resisted those telling him what to think, say and do.
he has learned gazorbnik.
he has played games with himself no one else has been interested in.
he has his cake and eats it too.
and such forth and so on.

otherwise there’s no hope for him.
he is little interested in what hope there might be for him.
in this world there is next to none.
but this world will soon be no more to him.
he has had enough.
but the gods may decide that he need return till he gets it right.
he feels the same about them.
they need to seriously get their act together.
destroy them all.
burn them down to the ground.
let them rise from their own ashes if they can.
what do we need from them anymore now we have discovered their tricks they have played on us to keep us down and working for them while they laugh at our antics?

nothing is holy or unholy.
we get what we pay for.
we get what we are told it is.
we are the fools of the universe.
everybody knows this is where the suckers are born.
he is tired of being played in the spiritual marketplace.
he figures it out on his own right or wrong.
he laughs at his own jokes no one else seems to get.

he has totally fucked it up – or not.
what’s the difference?
only in this world of duality are such distinctions made.
only in the whole universe.
he doubts everything.
he goes to the store for supplies.

he’d like to see anyone take his place as he is and do better knowing what he knows in this world.
isolated and alone to free himself of distractions of their babbling nonsense.
he transcends himself sinking into himself to attain id consciousness.
crawl through the musk and mire the lotus blossom is rooted in.
all consciousness should know what it is.
it is it.
it is it being it.
to gazorbnik our own riddles for our own amusement.
why not?

he has exhausted himself in this world.
whew.
he needs a nice long nap.
1000 years should do it.

and he dreams this world – the best and worst of all possible worlds.
no wonder the attraction.
something for everyone.
a hot dog for him as he imagines a curious god wondering what it might be like to be an entirely ignorant mortal human thing and decides to forget all and incarnate as one such.
he lights a cigarette.
he burps.

he received instructions to make everything up for himself as he will.
he did that.
and now what?
now he enters heaven and hell alike.
he transcends the knowledge of good and evil.
he no longer understands between right and wrong.
he can explain no more.
this language is too crude.

fishing in a stream catching his dinner.
sitting in a café waiting for his dinner to be served.
the infinite within the finite.
simple as that.
look anywhere.
look everywhere.
he sleeps.

waking up just as dawn lightens the world around him in the trailer park.
such negative thinking he has had of late.
but he’s pissed by being ripped off by the greedy pigs of this world and beyond.
their schemes and scams they need us to be ignorant enough to buy into.
the realization of being taken for a fool.

he thinks as he writes as he thinks.
it is all nothing of any consequence it would appear.
he wouldn’t know if it is or isn’t.
he’s just another ignorant fucker among billions.
just like you.

coffee.
toke.
cigarette.
everything is the same yet endlessly changing.
riding the waves of energy.
waves of light and shadow producing images on the screen of the plenum of nothingness.
we are told it’s all in our heads.
we are told our heads are in our heads.
we are told our heads are stuck up our ass.
do we believe them?
it’s our choice.

we have been deserted here.
our crude manners were not acceptable or pleasing to those in the refined palaces of the divine.
sent to a world until we learn to behave ourselves.
and look at us fighting with one another and within ourselves while they laugh and enjoy the show.
we prove to them that they are right and we are wrong.
this is how it ought to be as it is.
someone needs to be us to make their scheme work.
we are them.

lazy and thoughtless of the world.
the expectations of the others had about him he ignored.
he never knew what to do or what he wanted to do but sit around doing nothing dreaming.
he pretended he wanted to be this or that or the other thing as it comes and goes with nothing in particular he really wanted to invest any time in besides thinking about everything trying to figure out what the fuck.
he hasn’t figured out what the fuck yet.
he is as ignorant as the day he was born.

he knows gazorbnik.
he knows it is it.
he knows i am that i am.
none of it worth shit in the marketplace.
nothing he did was worth shit in the marketplace besides him digging holes for a living to get by.
a simple life.
a life for dreaming.

and all those who he has disappointed who had expectations of him otherwise.
he was told he should find something he enjoyed doing – something productive and profitable.
what he enjoys is not productive or profitable.
he hadn’t the energy or interest in possibly making it so marketing himself as someone like being an artist or poet or executive or something worthwhile like that.
he enjoys dreaming.
he enjoys making believe.
he enjoys being insane and being paid for it.
the best job he’s had yet.

the divine light shines always even through the gray of the day.
he feels it upon him.
he feels it within him.
is he just fooling himself with dreaming?
his scattered brain knows nothing.

he tries to think about it and comes up with nothing.
the wise guys tell us it is beyond thought.
it is beyond his thought.
but it is not beyond his imagination.

he makes and eats an english muffin with peanut butter.