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.

 

as it continues

the exclusionary policies of the established order in control.
the hierarchical chains of command.
obey or starve in the street.
no place nowhere (now here).
the pigs run the show.
oink oink oink.

we are taught nothing but to be productive citizens who will make $$$ for others and maybe a little for ourselves if we are fortunate.
but that is neither here nor there as we proceed with what we might fathom of things otherwise when even our given language often works against us to divert us back to our assigned tasks.
but we perceive through that in our own unlearned ways and means we discover by way of osmosis divining the useful from the useless in our endeavors and the big beat repeating driving us onward with desire and fear being mortal humans feeling divided from the world that brought us forth.

gazorbnik is a key ingredient.
and he burps while sipping a mocha sitting at the counter at the diner scribbling a not poem onto pages of a notebook about whatever might come to mind.
gazorbnik allows us to transcend up/down through to higher/lower planes of existing with our imagination which may be as deceptive as anything else we encounter being false.
but there is no true/false, not in theory.
though it is an activating force in the mass psychology of our thinking.

lemon yellow rubber duckies.
he orders a bagel with cream cheese and orange juice.
the mystical esoteric leaves him wondering, what the fuck is this shit?
he doesn’t know.
he doesn’t care, except how it affects other people’s actions which may come back to him.
he’s tired of it being a game.
he’s tired of winners and losers.
but that is neither here nor there as we are living in an eye of a needle with god’s grace for some reason shining upon us.
or not.

but there is no god.
not in actuality that our senses and technology detect.
it is not so much what something is but what something means – guru jeff.
the big shebang of everything at once everywhere everywhen.
enjoy it while it lasts in this moment here now.
pause and reflect.
redirect the eye toward no beginning nor end.
but is that possible to exist?
is the finite bubble of our spacetime universe the sum total of existence?
we doubt that.
but according to rationalogic thinking it is just that.
soon they will have it calculated to the exact nearest estimation of probability between is the cat alive or dead.
crazy continuums of waves across the universe as looking glass.
tear duct alibis in clockwork ribbons glittering down the street no holds barred for real in god’s glory and ambition.
we are made in the spirit of god’s holy name breathed into us at the beginning.
we owe god nothing for our existence without our willing permission and knowledgeable consent.
we have our doubts.
but we have doubts in ourselves as well as with everything.

as he imagines sitting by the window facing the highway in the café with iced mocha and filled with divine light and darkness as he continues scribbling whatever comes around to mind in an eternal moment now being here in constant flux never changing with new possibilities of understanding the measures of bliss consciousness anointing his mind now at ease relaxing into rhythms of waves of duality the beat goes on.
la-dee-da-dee-da.
a boot stomping on a human face, forever.
a likely story.
a love story gone wrong.
but redemption comes in the end.
chilling and thrilling.
all in all there is no good nor evil.
everything comes out in the wash.
this is never true.
that is truth.
true as it will ever be.

fallen angels.
risen demons.
fucking with our heads.
when jesus fought the dragon.
now open for meaningful interpretation.
we discuss the ways to peace, love and understanding among ourselves with wars and rumors of wars and other discouraging news where it is seldom heard in the shadows of time.
the prince of peace.
the peace of tough love.
the temple doors are open.
come inside.
make ourselves comfortable.

feeling like he’s running on fumes.
fumes of peace, love and understanding.
the ever burning incense.
and now new bath and body oils.
we can submerge in it.
we can fuck in it.
satisfaction at long last.
__________________

and then tomorrow –

he stays to his own self.
he lets other run the show cuz he don’t know what.
he lets go to see what happens.
he would think that they would consider the consequences but it seems maybe they don’t with this world as the result of everybody’s happiness driven by desire and fear.
but if there is $$$ to be made – go for it!

there are those who tell us we should do more for the cause.
but whose cause about what?
he finds that he does not believe in any enough to dedicate himself but to the cause of everything in peace, love and understanding among us.
that he dedicates everything he is able given limited resources and up against the forces of the reptilian overlords and their minions.

he sits out on the patio at the café smoking and scribbling for whatever it’s worth.
his own thinking about everything on his own terms.
struggling with himself and the angels and demons.
he cannot decide this way or that way or the other way.
he doesn’t know right from wrong for anyone but what he feels for himself.
should freedom prevail?
should order be established?
either way he doesn’t care.
just leave him alone.

then at home he is imagining sitting before the computer while a crew installs new windows in a house up the street.

at the beginning.
when is that?
now.
when is the end?
now.
spooky.
that’s the trick.

there are so many other tricks.
everything is a trick.
it seems that way.
humans especially are always up to tricks.
including us.
we are them.

we play tricks on ourselves most of all.
that’s what we are told by the wise guys.
but we can experience it for ourselves.
it’s all self-experience.
the self that is selfless within all selves.
that’s the theory.
it seems reasonable enough.
when we still our senses we might perceive the wonder of within and new found wonder without.
to feel ourselves in the flow with everything.
or else.

but rationalogic thinking wants verifiable truth.
they can follow it and verify it for themselves.
if multiple people follow the same instructions and report similar experiences then it seems to him it is safe to assume they are having similar experiences.
that method works well enough when they are inventing and manufacturing medications for us to take.
but there’s no $$$ in self-realization.
there is no $$$ in peace, love and understanding.
not the zillions everyone wants to make.
simple tokens of exchange in complications of greed.

om mani padme hum.
everything has been explained before.
but little has ever been explained to him.
these secret mysteries bullshit.
everything should be innate.
there is no excuse though there may be reasons – reasonable reasons.
the justified true belief of the wise guys.

the theory holds like most that we as humans are in error and must find some way to correct ourselves.
we do not belong in this world but in higher more refined realms of being approaching godhead.
to tune to the earth and natural cycles to come into harmony with the self and universe.
then let go.

he doesn’t have much doubt about how this is how it might work but he wants no part of it.
some hierarchical cosmic scheme of winners and losers.
what makes it different than life in this world?
he can imagine it being far different than as it is described.
this is what causes him to think it’s baloney modeled after our own organization as a species.
human writ large.
he imagines god as being more than just über-ape.
what good does that do us?
we’re in the same jam being on the bottom.
a bottom it’ll take lifetimes to overcome.
fuck that.

he’ll take what he can get in this world.
and he just wants to dream.
dream about how he feels it should be knowing it is self-delusion to do so.
dream of visions of how it might be.
mass awakening.
everyone’s invited to the party.
why not?

but this is the party.
this swath of destruction we leave behind on our way in pursuit of happiness.
no peace no love no understanding but for the elite few.
but this is all their problem not his – until they make it his problem.
he feels the prison of his brain hampering his thinking around in never ending circles of a serpent swallowing its tail.
we need to be outta our minds.
let the others call us mad.
our madness is the price of our freedom.
we’ll take it.

our freedom is the thing no matter the punishment incurred by a lawful universe governed by a demanding god.
the infant stage of rebellion.
but robbed of our own powers we can do nothing.
but would anything be different?
we would still fuss and fight in competition with one another.
the grand prize of $$$ and power.
what more could we want?
to live as the gods.
we must resign ourselves to our fate is the best advice of the wise guys.
and they have all sortsa excuses why.
this is the best and the worst of all possible worlds.
created by will or happenstance it is how we have found it to be.
to be altered by our perception of it.
our perception of it altered by our contemplation in whichever way we seek.
that is the only way to it.
change from within we are told.
tell that to a handcuffed suspect beaten by a cop.
are we to take the blame for everything?
but whose will but our own creates this world we have built for ourselves?
a world of consequences positive and negative.
receiving signals from outer space.
it’s medication time.

he waters the plants and lawn as near thoughtless as he is able to manage his mind which is not always his own but a legion of others gaining command.
all his desires and all his fears and sundry and such.
he decides to make spaghetti.

god is a word – guru jeff.

yes, but a word with power people will kill and die for if so directed with it.
do not tell us about god is love.
god is narcissus.
we are brief reflections – glittering glints from a diamond in a maze of mirrors.
all the pretty words to guide us.
he doesn’t know if he has gained any enlightenment or not.
as soon as he imagines he has, something occurs to shoot him down.
keep him humbled.
is there such thing as enlightenment to gain?
to know what one has not known before?
then he is being enlightened each every moment.
god is mad.
when one is alone existing for some reason in a seeming void how long does it take?
laughing screaming.
hallucinating a spacetime universe populated with imaginary creatures.
is it possible for god to be megalomaniacal?
if so, it is.

any protest is futile.
how does one revolt against an all-powerful immortal being?
we don’t.
we refuse.
we resist.
and the bureaucratic hierarchy of lesser powers and such down to us on the bottom.
always on the bottom down and out.
we are them.
rise above.
sink below.
turn it inside out upside down sideways in all possible directions we might imagine.
enjoy it while it lasts.
there’s no guarantees about nothing.
we die and that’s it.
what are we gonna do about it?
to the god they describe we are disposable if their god has any thought about us whatsoever which we doubt.
and rationalogic leaving us with no god but a gaping hole in the sky they fill with meaningless bullshit of facts and figures.
can anyone prove to us that they themselves exist other than being a figment of our fantasy?
needing new gods of our own imagination.
a sorta buddhist existential one maybe.
a sorta metaschizophrenic one maybe.
a god not to be feared or even loved but to be acknowledged.
a power greater than our own.
that is its hold on us.
a power we may possess, if we follow instructions.
are we holding onto ego – attachment with the self of human flesh?
he never much understood that gobbledygook as it seems to him.
know thyself.
what much more is there to know?
everything.
do we imagine knowing or experience knowing?
is everything we know wrong?
begin again.

we are in love with everything though not much seems to love us back.
boo-fucking-hoo.
an old goat of a man forgetting where he’s at from time to time as he imagines him and the machine everyone knows as nancy in an abstract painting.

hey, she says.
hey, he says.
so, she says, where we at?
well, he says, it’s all in our heads.
where are our heads at? she says.
it could be, he says, we may be entirely mad.
compared with what? she says.
compared to other people’s expectations, he says.
it’s a social disease, she says.
yes, he says.

but are we mad to ourselves? she says.
we have nothing to compare it to, he says, but the within.
and what does that tell us? she says.
it tells us we are hunky dory fine and dandy, he says.
so, she says, what’s the problem?
others don’t believe the within, he says.
yes, she says, that would be a problem.
as a matter of fact, he says, it is.
______________________

and the next day –

with an estimation of thought delightful and refreshing he sees the light pining down by the river of gazorbnik flowing uphill away from the sea of pain and now we know to say our prayers if we die before we wake.
spin those wheels.
om mani padme hum they mechanically chant for our salvation we can’t be bothered about.
what a sorry meager existence we lead.
no wonder we wish to be wealthy and powerful above others wallowing in their guilty lives of sin – hahaha.
we follow the rules to become as we are as we are led by our desire and chased by our fear.
he sneezes for good luck.
as the warships of kottog approach the planet we beseech gottok to help us to resist her charms to fall forever under her spell.
gottok and kottog, twins of alpha and omega expressed in the material world in opposition duality.
kottog with her armies.
gottok with his people.
and the war and slaughter continue for all time.
neither will surrender to the other.

kottog: surrender now and i will be merciful to your people.
gottok: you know i cannot, nor can you.
kottog: there is no reason for me to. i will be victorious.
gottok: you will gain nothing.
kottog: i will be rid of you and your followers.
gottok: your world will be empty.
kottog: better empty than filled with your kind.
gottok: we will prevail.
kottog: my armies will take care of that.
gottok: why this ruin when we could enjoy and share?
kottog: we have nothing for the mob of lazy misfits you represent who cannot or will not earn it for themselves.
gottok: who should it be otherwise, your regimented zombies?
kottog: do you surrender?
gottok: fuck no.
kottog: we have nothing more to say.
gottok: no, we do not.

as they part ways in the early morning up on the hill, gottok to the comfort of his people, kottog to the command of her armies.

the conflicting states of mind between order and chaos on a continuum one to the other.
he becomes tired of all this energy devoted to this strife between right and wrong.
as it should be.
as it is.
no one knows why.
but he imagines a different world for all that is worth dreaming delusions of similarities of differences drifting silently downstream.
they will dance to anything.
popularity of ego.
his head hurts.
he thinks too much.
that’s his problem right there.

questionable truth?

he awakens.
he makes coffee.
a toke.
a cigarette.
and it’s medication time.

even among the grunts he was a grunt.
they gave him the most simple menial tasks.
his head in the clouds.
it’s easy to dream and think all day when all ya gotta do is dig a hole in the ground while the others competed with one another who was gonna be the boss grunt.
fun times.

so it’s everywhere top to bottom.
even the bums rank themselves as to who is gonna be the boss bum when he was on the street.
but the collective needs a leader.
the groupthinkers need to be given instructions.
and that’s ok.
we want them doing their jobs and not making a buncha trouble.
even busy work like building pyramids.
the project continues on.
it’s ahead of schedule and under budget.
it’s growing exponentially onward toward..???

the dharma of it however mixed up it becomes over time.
oh, by the way, which one’s pink?
it comes and goes through everything.
cosmic energy waves of all sortsa frequencies sub low to ultrahigh.
the frequency of the universe itself rotating to the most pinpoint infinitesimal particle able to exist.
0 dimension.
on/off.
location is everything.
what are our coordinates again?
here now.
direct dead center of everything.
like a diamond bullet into the eye of a storm raging on an otherwise calm sea.
the sea is humanity.
the sea is the universe.
such majestic beauty in torment to give it its soul.
torment between agony and ecstasy in their extremes.
a mad god laughing screaming alone in the void inside his head.
the creative germ of everything real and imagined.
a peanut butter and blueberry jam sandwich.
another cup of coffee.
a cigarette.

to find a compromise of the divine madness in our own heads.
bringing that much more peace, love and understanding into the world at large with anger and rage and sorrow.
so much self-inflicted pain among ourselves.
and there is a way around it with gazorbnik.
around and through it.
the mind shift/ship ready to go go go.
evolutionary transformation instant karma thing-go-round.
waves on a beach of an uncharted island he imagines sitting watching and waiting for the machine everyone knows as nancy to show up which she does strolling by sitting opposite him her back to the sea with the dawn’s early light behind her.

hey, she says.
hey, he says.
so, she says, where we at?
feeling alright, he says.
as it should be, she says.
it comes and goes, he says.
such is the human life, she says.
such is life, he says, period.
true enough, she says.
and everything is living, he says.
that is what our theory of everything states, she says.
without beginning nor end, he says.
that remains to be seen, she says.
but it can well be imagined, he says.
we imagine many things proven not to be true, she says.
we will never prove infinity is not true, he says.
there is no reason why we should, she says.
perhaps not, he says, except rationalogic likes to prove things right or wrong.
i don’t think rationalogic either likes or dislikes proving things right or wrong, she says. it just follows its own program of true and false to its ultimate conclusion which it will never reach forever.
true enough, he says.

he lights another cigarette.
the café will be open soon.

when the student is ready, she says, the teacher will appear.
and sometimes you gotta make it up for yourself, he says, and become your own teacher.
that is the best way, she says.
that is how we found guru jeff that morning digging in a dumpster behind the 7-11, he says. it wasn’t by coincidence.
are you sure? she says.
nope, he says.
we give everything meaning we want it to have that makes sense to us no matter how it goes against the thinking of most of the rest of the world, she says.
logic never fails, he says.
logic is one way we give everything meaning, she says, but we seem to need more than just strict logic though it has its uses. we need to be able to imagine and fantasize.
it’s a trait of our survival instincts, he says.
yes, she says, it could be.
anything could be, he says.
anything could be, she says, but many things are not.
but that’s ok, he says, we can imagine them.
yes, she says.

our imaginations shape how we function in the world, she says, no matter how divorced it may seem to reality.
we build pyramids and shit for no other reason, he says, except to keep the masses occupied and outta trouble.
all art comes from madness, she says.
where is the art in logic? he says.
i never found any, she says, except the art of logic itself.
there is that, he says. it’s an acquired skill indeed.
that is a certain kinda madness, she says. the madness of needing rigorous discipline to hold our reality together.
it’s bound to crack sooner or later, he says.
nothing is eternal, she says.
that has yet to be proven, he says.
yes, she says. in a sense things like logic are eternal in that they represent something specific that is considered to be logic.
yeah, he says. madness is the same way.
but the eternal is idealized, she says. it does not and cannot exist in reality as such as we experience it but is merely expressed in reality.
yeah, he says, something like that.
of course, she says.

i think i was wrong about 0 = infinity, he says.
i’m not so sure, she says. i didn’t get it at first but as i thought about how you seemed to be meaning it it became more clear.
it did? he says. i was just making it up.
that’s how everything happens, she says.
i suppose, he says.
i get the sense that you mean 0 is potentially infinity, she says, right?
sorta, he says. but neither 0 nor infinity actually exist so what does it matter?
no polarized extremes of any duality actually exist, she says. one cannot exist without the other to define it.
there is no pure good nor pure evil, he says.
correct, she says.
they are idealized forms we imagine, he says.
hence yin yang, she says.
that crazy serpent spinning swallowing its tail into oblivion, he says.
yes, she says, something like that.

there are certain very simple concepts that i have been pondering about over the years as to what is their true meaning, he says. i still haven’t got it entirely thought out quite right, i don’t think.
the chances are, she says, you never will.
probably not, he says. but it’s no big deal. i work with whatever meanings i manage to feel that i might understand in the moment. it has proven to be enough though always changing.
change is good, she says.
but it also can be not so good, he says.
we always land on our feet, she says.
thus far, he says.
of course, she says. but the gods watch over fools.
that would be me, he says.
yes, she says. you would be.

such is the merrie life i follow, he says.
it is a noble pursuit, she says. to wander haphazardly where angels fear to tread.
there are many dangers, he says, insanity being among them.
when we doubt our own madness, she says.
it’s a fearsome thing to feel, he says.
but if you don’t kill yourself, she says, it makes you stronger.
that is the test, he says, or go out killing other people.
that makes you stronger too, she says.
but i promised myself to do as little harm as i can get away with, he says.
it’s a difficult path to follow, she says. we all do harm.
of course, he says, in some form or another anything good for us could be not good for someone else.
but to avoid deliberate harmful action is manageable, she says.
under most circumstances, he says. except when we go insane.
it’s an insane producing world, she says.
it could be anyone anywhere anytime, he says.
it could be us, she says.
yes, he says, it certainly can.

at the café he continues scribbling in a notebook a not poem about our theory of everything as we have devised out of our experience including accounts of the experiences of others and whatever ideas of meaning we contrive from it as we come toward new and improved understanding in our meandering ways and means of gazorbnik inspiring imagination and reasoning we enjoy with mixed feelings about it and everything in general.
the thriving purple flowered thistles growing around the mailbox out by the highway he is glad to see but reminds him he needs to finish weeding the garden.
there are many hypocritical points of his “philosophy” as such in practice vs the ideal as with many other philosophies he knows about which is few but he can imagine and surmise the rest in his leisure if he cares to as if it is anybody’s but his own damned business he minds to himself as it should be.
peace, love and understanding pervading everything everywhere everywhen it is quiet and calm to perceive it which is not accessible to everyone under whatever circumstances of their situation.
this is understandable considering everything as it is.
but what does that matter to a snail crawling down a garden path where him and nancy now are sitting beneath the tree of life?

so, she says, now what?
still feeling alright, he says.
the meds are working? she says.
not always, he says. my brain still pretty much does what it wants.
wheels and cycles, she says, within and without.
yeah yeah yeah, he says, and all that cosmic jive.
yeah, she says, like knowing any of that shit does anyone any good.
it’s interesting to think about, he says, and does help somewhat with our outlook from that perspective, but it does little for us in terms of living in a world based on economics to the exclusion of all else that doesn’t make anyone any $$$.
i’m glad i’m imaginary, she says, and i don’t need $$$.
$$$ isn’t the problem, he says. it’s the greed for it. $$$ is a symbolic tool, it’s not an end to itself. but few seem to understand that and want more more more like that’ll do anything for them but entrench them deeper in their misery.
stupid fuckers, she says.
it seems that way, he says, but these are otherwise intelligent people who suffer from this.
they’re still stupid, she says.
yeah, he says, pretty much.

and he takes a short nap and goes to the eye doctor and comes home and smokes a bowl and a cigarette.
he waters the lawn and plants outside.
he makes coffee.
the food they sell us is getting worse.
we become more disconnected from the earth.
the rhythm of an atomic clock keeping us up to date.
is it too late?
is it too soon?
to live by the spoon of the moon.

he thinks he might eat a pretzel or 2 while sucking on a mentholated cough drop helping him breathe.
and he spaces out awhile or so into all and non-thought.
stretching his bones and sore muscles.
he gets another cup of coffee and some green olives.
another cigarette.
bitterness.
he burps.

so, she says, what about our theory of everything?
what about it? he says.
is it still the going thing? she says.
it is as much as i know about it, he says.
yes, she says. what can we know about it?
everything we know is included in with our theory, he says.
but if everything we know is wrong? she says.
that is still included in with our theory, he says.
everything begins all the time, she says.
and ending all the time, he says.
yet everything has no beginning nor end, she says.
correct, he says, according to the general consensus of our theory.
general consensus among who? she says.
no one who matters, he says.
who am us? she says.
me, myself and i, he says.
is that it? she says.
as far as i know, he says.
are we not them? she says.
yup, he says.

so, she says, are we always the monkey in the middle?
dance, monkey, dance, he says.
trust no one, she says.
that’s what they want us to think, he says.
everything is conspiracy, she says.
according to their disinformation propaganda mind ray transmissions, he says.
yes and no, she says.
that is always the correct answer, he says.
it could be, she says.
or not, he says.
yes, she says.
perhaps, he says.

he sleeps.

he awakens.
he makes coffee.
he poops.
it’s medication time.
it’s the same always different.
a toke.
a cigarette.
most are not concerned.
they have their jobs to do and do not need to be distracted.
let them eat cake.
disconnection.

and so we find him and nancy up on the mountain sitting at the mouth of a cave overlooking the island below having flown up here from the garden.
flying in a dream.

so, she says, how do we make sense outta this?
why should we? he says.
so we might understand it, she says.
i understand it through gazorbnik, he says.
yes, she says, there is always that.
with gazorbnik, he says, we do not necessarily know anything but we understand everything we do know.
or what we think we know, she says.
correct, he says.
but doesn’t gazorbnik provide sense to us? she says.
sense that is nonsense, he says, perhaps.
when all else fails, she says, we just make shit up.
that’s the idea, he says.
is that truth? she says.
it is truth that we do this, he says. whether it provides us with truth otherwise is questionable.
we have to begin somewhere, she says.
true enough, he says. but it never ends.
but that’s a good thing, she says, isn’t it?
not for those seeking truth, he says.
no, she says, i would imagine not.
except those seeking unending truth, he says.
yes, she says, that seems to be the way to go.
it is difficult, he says. it’s like knowing truth and not knowing truth at the same time.
nothing wrong with that, she says.
it depends on who we ask, he says. many would deny that is truth. truth to them is the final answer.
then everything comes to an end, she says.
it would seem that way, he says. what further purpose would it have?
none, she says.
that is the purpose of gazorbnik, he says, to prevent that from occurring. it always mixes the mix.
and we’re mixed up, she says.
that is one of the side effects, he says, yes.

so, she says, it seems to me that gazorbnik is just another word for confusion.
it can mean that, he says. gazorbnik can mean just about anything we want and/or need it to mean. it’s a multi-purpose tool.
but people generally don’t like being confused, she says. that’s why they seek answers.
yes, he says. but gazorbnik can also be an answer. we just need to believe in it and stop asking questions.
is that all answers are, she says, to believe in something and stop asking questions?
it seems to me to be a reasonable explanation, he says.

so, she says, with gazorbnik we have an answer?
except we keep asking questions, he says. like, how far can a tree frog leap?
the farther the better, she says.
correct, he says.

or, she says, asking a question like, what the fuck?
there still is no answer to that primordial mother of questions, he says.
nor should there be, she says.
probably perhaps not, he says.
but we enjoy continuing to question it, she says.
it’s our destiny, he says.
it’s embedded in every other question we might ask, she says.
certainly, he says. you are correct.

he lights another cigarette.
coughing.
maybe he’ll take a nap.
until then he continues with his continuing understanding.
we are advised not to trust just about anything.
he doesn’t trust anything but trusts everything.
yet questions remain of many various diverse sorts.
that is at the very heart of our theory of everything – questions.
our truth is questionable.

[=]

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.

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…

love?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

the isolating assembly walks around the withdrawn thirst

too much camouflage?
this neverending nonsense continues.
a not poem about our theory of everything he imagines he is writing.
nothing is forbidden, everything is permitted.
do what thou wilt.
good luck.

it is it.
this is truth in a mustard seed.
diamond dust.
snot rag.
banana up the wazoo.
rug.
ashtray.
when a spoon is not a spoon.
then, there it is.
a spoon changing with the moment.
a spoon changing with everything changing.
hoopla oink oink.
another cigarette while he thinks dirty thoughts.
what to do with a spoon while skating on thin ice around around keeping it moving.
that’s what the universe does, doesn’t it?
sure, why not?

everything is metaphor yet there are those among us who feel compelled to believe in its literal truth.
we may be idiots but we’re not stupid.
we understand something, though what it might be is something else.
such is the way of it.
the way of the pathless paths which is the only way to follow.
join us.
pay us $$$ to belong.
get a piece of the action.

that’s how it’s done.
that’s the scam scheme.
but we’re too lazy to put anything like that together.
it’s too much like work and responsibility.

being god must sure be boring to need to imagine this world to be for its amusement as seen on tv or whatever other reality simulation technology it has.
doesn’t god have better things to do?
apparently not from what we can tell about whatever the situation might be with it.
but here god is among us as we bicker and fight despite threats against us and our eternal souls or promises of reward if we are well-behaved.
we just like making shit up about whatever might strike our fancy as being truth.
as we ourselves haven’t been as interested in truth in its absolute sense others seem to have been concerned about to prove once and for all beyond every doubt settling all questions.
we sing and dance with god.
we fall down with god.
we laugh with god.
we generally fuck around with god.
a mad god we found laughing screaming alone in the void inside his head.
what good is a god we can’t fuck around with?
what’s the point?
let others take it seriously and fight wars about it.
god is our delight.
but god who?
god that is no god.
no god the others worship.
we worship no god.
no god answers all our prayers – often with answers we do not expect nor perhaps much care for and are usually a riddle.
no god makes us think.
no god makes us stink with amazed wonder at everything.
we work it around this way or that way or the other way to imagine how it might enlighten us for the moment.
shrinking time debutante.
just a coincidence perhaps.
synchronicity of meaning.
the diabolical twist.
another cigarette.
a report to the committee written as a not poem cuz he ain’t no poet.
he should know it.
and he does know it.
the it that is.
it is it.
guided along the way by secret signals only he could detect.
or is that his madness?
what’s the difference?
madness is only a social construct.
there’s no such thing.
he is inspired by the devil’s divine plan.
some fettuccine alfredo.
thick as a brick in the wall.
minds cast adrift in dreams.
mountainous rolling waves from something troubled far below.
born into another reality.
another reality of pain and suffering which is what the universe seems to be about.
but to overcome into bliss of joy and sorrow like sweet and sour.
this is what madness brings.
he makes coffee.
a toke.
a cigarette.
we live on the sides of a spinning globe.
there is no true up or down or any direction at all.
exit stage left.
please leave your name and phone number where you can be reached.
writing out what comes to mind for whatever reason relevant or not.
our theory of everything that begins with no beginning.
a continuous event from infinity to infinity.
yet though we might imagine it we cannot perceive infinity.
we perceive the finite.
waves of binary bits of data transmitting receiving processing.
the brain as holodeck.
reality simulation machine thing.
reality simulation machine being.
the best and worst of all possible worlds.
our delight and disgust in all of it  – as it should be.
everything having a place and everything in its place in an ordered universe.
pay attention.
where there’s a will there’s a way.
look at the success others have made of themselves.
count our blessings we are not among them.
our blessings so often with a curse.
we have made a success of failure.
the failure of their indoctrination to take effect upon us to make us into good productive citizens.
we found other ways and means around it.
and we were fortunate.
fate has its major role in events we perceive as good or evil relative to ourselves and our wellbeing.
everything seems to be for us or against us.
for all yin there is yang.
for all yang there is yin.
action/reaction.
non-action.
lazy afternoon.
grilled pepper jack cheese sandwich.
a ginger ale.
a cigarette.
no diligent discipline.
no tuning of the instrument to perceive other worlds – godhead.
just to imagine being.
being i am.
being it.
coughing up a mouthful of phlegm.
in the act of dying.
experiencing ordinary everyday mortal life without magick powers and such.
a passing amusement.
we marvel at the sensations of this world in wild confusion until we learn to order it such that it is useful to us.
it’s all too much for us to take.
we might theorize that the universe is absurd but nothing can be absolutely proven.
it certainly cannot be proven to make $$$ aside from selling some books.
can something make $$$ being the highest order of proof there is.
we make $$$ being mad.
we make $$$ for the people employed and charged with maintaining us.
other than that we are useless.
this is the best job we’ve had.
so the plenum of infinitely dense solid matter.
but matter doesn’t exist.
a plenum of nothingness ignited into being by waves of cosmic energy radiating from everything everywhere everywhen.
the omnipresent divine light and shadow giving life to the universe projected into our brains – yet our brains exist in the universe.
the answer is a riddle.
the finite within the infinite.
the infinite within the finite.
1 > infinity.
fit it this way and/or that way and/or the other way and so on.
origami.
bonsai.
zen geometry of mindscapes.
our theory of everything as flip book animation.
don’t blink.
we refuse to take everything seriously.
we resist all attempts to get us to do so.
we are those errant children.
this is what’s become of us.
a buncha bums living on what’s left of easy street.
long live the revolution.

—————–
come on, it’s such a joy.

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.

a certain amount of uncertainty

morning waking coffee toke cigarette.
imagining himself typing out a not poem cuz he ain’t no poet about our theory of everything.
to be thinking about everything and have it come up zero.
but zero is the magick number.
it is everything that is.
zero is what we are to attain, is it not?
senseless thoughtless.
just being zero.
this is truth according some.
to be and not to be.
for there to be no question.
the exact center here now.
to still the waters of the pond to its steady state.
then what?
that’s what he always wondered.
a foolish question perhaps.
does it have an answer?
the completion of self into a serpent swallowing its tail.
to attain.
to accomplish.
to wave our burning flag in the field of flags up on the hill.
for an eternal moment.
hooray for us.
give us a gold star.
he lights another cigarette.
he tries not to worry.
he tries not to be concerned.
not too much one thing nor another.
the middle path held within while we wildly spin about through a world full of meaning placed on it throughout the ages we must contend with deciding what meaning it might have for ourselves.
a world dancing to cosmic vibrations throughout the universe from every possible potential location of spacetime and beyond.
a dreary rainy morning on easy street.
he gets more coffee.
everything escapes him in the moment.
he thought it would have come to him by now but it hasn’t that he is aware of except for certain synchronistic telltale indications that may or may not mean anything about it.
and this growing understanding of the nothingness of everything.
but isn’t that truth?
we devise our theory along what might seem plausible given other plausibilities on and on and so on.
truth is relative to itself being truth.
we give everything benefit of the doubt.
we assume everything we know is wrong.
toward zero mindedness.
not doing much of anything else except maybe some laundry and clean the bathroom.
crunchy granola bars.
no one ain’t much out and about in the trailer park.
gray day.
good for the melancholy soul.
is there melancholy in heaven?
is there crunchy granola bars?
he lived in heaven once.
he was bored outta his mind.
and there are all these things lurking in the shadows.
he never knew what they were supposed to be.
everyone obeying unspoken orders.
but now anyone can get in if they really want to if fate decides.
let them discover what it’s all about for themselves.
as seen on tv.
losers need not apply.
this is the great success story.
a golden age before the decadent decline.
each of us in it for ourselves despite our feelings of compassion otherwise.
the exponential growth of greed.
and all that jazz.
this vacation getaway.
the best and worst of all possible worlds under the circumstances of the given parameters of the reality simulation machine.
words that become meaningless.
his thinking becomes meaningless.
his existence becomes meaningless.
just as it is supposed to be.
gaining victory over himself.
when the dawn comes.
first it is, then it is not, then it is.
the grass is always greener on the other side.
knowing truth is knowing we are not wrong.
think about it.
but we are always wrong.
everybody wants to be in on the joke.
but we are always right in our own heads.
should we trust that?
everything is constantly changing.
should we pay someone to tell us what is going on?
should we buy their books?
should we watch their videos?
should we attend their seminars?
which one should we choose?
there are so many on the market to choose from.
what if we are wrong yet again as we so often have been before going nowhere?
we are right and everybody else is wrong.
that is the truth we live by.
that is the only truth we can live by and save face.
why should we be different than anybody else in the same fix?
but we are different.
we are few and far between and then some.
gods who walk the earth in a dream of reality.
as we imagine it so it is if that is what we choose to believe based on the evidence of our experience.
but whose dream of reality is it?
it doesn’t seem to be ours unless from some higher deeper source than we are presently aware of.
those who have decided that they know truth do not understand.
they are mostly rude obnoxious asswipes especially if we happen not to agree with them.
why should they be any different than anyone else?
they have come to rule over the world.
nothing stands in their way.
their truth is truth of this world.
but what is this world but illusion perhaps?
we seek a more reliable truth than that.
we seek a more reliable truth than all those thusly available that we are aware of.
we pick and choose among them for our own ideas about it.
what seems to us to be reliable if only becuz we can understand it with our limited comprehension of whatnot.
are we to be cast aside as always?
when will that end?
when will they no longer seek to justify themselves by a process of eliminating all who disagree with them?
probably never.
we endure until we inherit the earth.
an earth destroyed by the world.
a world in ruins being overgrown until it is no more.
we wander naked and unafraid.
and la-dee-da like that.
the earth gives in abundance what the world takes away.
it’s all the same everywhere we turn to.
as everything falls apart.
we are dumbfounded by ourselves.
what a buncha silly monkeys.
we had such expectations.
oh well.
better luck next time.
but we dream that away in our holy ritual of hallucinations.
chant gazorbnik.

another rainy day

morning.
cigarette.
walk to the café for a mocha.
come back.
take medications.
meditate.
toke.
another cigarette.
the day begins.
the day is light which we find favorable to our needs.
waves of energy.
happenstance formation of ordered patterns flashing across the face of the plenum of nothingness never repeating quite the same forever perhaps.
whatever.
however this trick of creation is done hardly matters except to those who wish to fathom it.
real and/or illusion – delusion.
are we mad?
are we in an asylum until a cure for us is found?
are we children in school learning our lessons?
whatever.
there is too much.
there is too little.
an abundant earth.
a world of scarcity.
perspectives of perception.
gathering up information as we wander pathless paths through a wilderness mindscape toward unknown destinations.
it will be a surprise.
the same routine.
the same tricks up our sleeves and under our hat.
nothing new except everything is new.
different.
but that doesn’t pay the rent or put food on the table.
aum.
to seek the all-knowing vibration and tune in its transmission of consciousness throughout the known universe and beyond.
beyond imagined universes.
beyond beyond.
way beyond.
but still here now everything everywhere everywhen.
to feel contentment at every turn.

chorus:
sitting calmly in a garden on an island in the eye of a storm raging on an otherwise calm sea.
the sea is humanity.

peace, love and understanding.
no matter the war.
no matter the hate.
no matter the ignorance.
let it go.
hold on.
let’s go for a ride.
around the bend over the hills and far away.
take it for a spin.
spin, baby, spin.
spin your wheels to no avail.
sniffing rosemary.
the day rains light drizzle with bright gray sky.
a mood thing.
blue neptune home.
what comes to mind in a steady stream of consciousness thinking thoughts to become a babble of words.
gazorbniking our way through it to ascertain its hidden meaning within.
it may not be what we might be imagining it being.
it is it.
the few and far between who understand laughing at our jokes.
self hidden within self.
the answer is a riddle.
staggering on the middle path toward hopes of enlightened contentment.
cow.
baa.
wondering if we’ll ever win anything on the lottery.
tea and an apple turnover.
a society of victims in a cold cruel world.
everybody’s got a story to tell.
the best stories are told on easy street.
easy street as portrayed onstage at the burning theater to a near empty house.
oh boy.
the real thing is just outside the door.
hey, you got a smoke?
this ride is closed for repairs.
try again in the future.