[=]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

he is home.
it’s time for a nap.

in another dream

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

breathe…

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

mission accomplished.
now to carry on.

um… what?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

to be continued…

love?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

outside the kidnapped paranoia shouts a county biscuit

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

it’s cool though whatever.
he sleeps.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

medication time.

enjoy

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

oh well

while the others prepare for war we prepare for peace being the simpleminded idiot fools that we are.
don’t we know what a dangerous world we live in?
as if it’s our fault somehow.
are we in league with the adversary?
perhaps we don’t even know it.
everyone is for us or against us mentality.
we’re just sitting on a fence trying to mind our own business.
but they won’t let us do that.
we must choose they tell us.
choose among different similar evils woven from the same cloth – greed.
follow instructions.
this is not what we came here for to be involved in their petty grievances with one another.
such a waste of our precious time.
don’t bother us.
leave us alone.
they are strangers to us.
what do they have to do with us?
we are visitors here temporarily as it would be.
here for the hot SEX action.
here for the moment everlasting now.
and so on.

as they decide everything.
when are we ever asked about anything besides in market research survey polls?
what they want to know to make more $$$ for themselves from us.
they play on our wildest desires and wildest fears.
as we dream that all away.
as we are thinking about everything we might be able to imagine.

some believe in the poetry of love.
some believe in the poetry of angst.
some believe in the poetry of sunrises and sunsets.
some believe in the poetry of dumpster trash.
he writes a not poem about our theory of everything.
he writes on it all day until the computer crashes and he loses it all.
here he is again trying to remember any of it.
oh well.

hell’s bells.
hot holy shit.

medication time.
keep it in time.
space and time.
it’s mighty fine.

being becoming.
alive living eternal life.

2+2=cow.
he will always stick to that irrationalogic truth.
thick and thin.
though rationalogically it is not true.
which should we trust?

he makes coffee.
a toke.
a cigarette.
strange noises outside in the dark.
home alone.
red cinnamon gummy bears.
demon angels in his head on his mind.
creating sustaining destroying.
everything everywhere everywhen here now.
continuing patterns of particle-waves of ethereal energy flowing through the plenum of nothingness making it dance to life.
gods walking the earth.
as a spaceship hovers nearby.

an infinite spewing singularity.
regurgitation of existence.
as it fits in with our theory and even if it doesn’t we still include it.
nothing is excluded – and not even nothing.
everything is nothing.
nothing is everything,
the answer is a riddle.
the joy and suffering of living in the best and worst of all possible worlds.
a world beyond our imagination to fully comprehend.
a world appearing real such that it may as well be so for all practical purposes and applications.
enough that we believe it to be real.
what else is reality?

do not tell us of other higher more refined worlds as that reality can be questioned as much as this one.
the world lies within they also tell us.
but what is within and what is without?
we know of no such distinctions in our experience.
we perceive all as one continuous river kinda thing overflowing to the sea.
a roller coaster ride between rising to heaven and plunging to hell twisting turning all the way.
let go and hold on.
but the mind shift/ship rescues us in time perhaps spiriting us away – or not.
the simulation of events in spacetime around us within us.
we experience everything in our mind however real it may be otherwise.
a mad god laughing screaming alone in the void inside his head as he imagines himself sitting on a beach of an island in the eye of a storm raging on an otherwise calm sea.
the sea is humanity.
watching the waves pulled by the tide pulled by the moon and beyond and so on like that.
he drinks the now cold coffee.
wake up.

a not poem cuz he ain’t no poet.
our all-inclusive theory of everything becuz it cannot be anything but such and still be a theory of everything – yes?
including all the theories and all the truths and all the imaginations and all the lies.
the gestalt of everything.
the seeming absurd confusion of it.
it is our own mind absurdly confused.
but out of confusion comes realization.
or is it the other way around?
we forget.
of course everything we know is wrong.
we are the idiots of the universe it would seem by most people’s theories about it.
living in some mundane material world.
but it looks rather amazing to us.
who would have imagined it being possible even as supposedly being an illusion which only makes it all the more remarkable?
wouldn’t you agree?

of course you would agree.
who wouldn’t?
we suppose there are many who wouldn’t for whatever reason or another.
do we all need to agree?
we nearly universally agree that $$$ is $$$ and has value and worth even though we may despise it.
why can’t we agree on other things?
a rock is a rock?
how difficult can that be?
but people love to argue about shit which is all very well and good until someone pulls out a weapon to prove their point.
weapons of words.
a barrage bombardment of words.
words launched like missiles.
words stabbing like knives.
all that trash talk about how big and important we are.
ho-hum.
wake us when it’s over.

we sigh thinking about what a neat world this could have been.
it’s over now.
not without total collapse of the whole thing.
all empires fail and fall.
but not always so suddenly.
the gradual ebb and flow of it.
but we do live in a speedy world of complicated technology.
as the wealthy and powerful slip into their hidden well-defended enclaves to sit out the storm we are left out to fend for ourselves with what little they leave us.
or something like that.
something like anything that may or may not happen circling around in his brain with everything else helter skelter and so on.
constant scenarios of could bes and what ifs.
he needs to get his meds changed.
wheat toast with orange marmalade.

we are fascinated thinking about everything.
thinking about what might be true or what might not.
thinking about what makes anything true or not.
thinking about if there is truth and what it might be.
thinking anything about everything.
thinking about existing as and being pure thought.
no body – not even mind.
certainly not something as gross as an ego.
or so others will try to convince us they are above all that business.
then why do they need all our $$$?
then why do they need all that security around them?
do they really think we don’t notice such things?
but that’s what lures many to them – the smell of worldly success.
what a joke.

are we to trust no one?
is there no one to be trusted?
are they all liars and deceivers?
perhaps lying to and deceiving themselves the most of everyone.
how are we to learn anything at all when people tell us only what they want us to think?
what truth is in that?

we go our own way with what little we got along on pathless paths through thick and thin bound for nowhere (now here).
it’s a trick we play on ourselves to make everything appear as though being real which when we think about it it cannot be.
the impossibility of it.
waves of light and shadow through our minds – if we even have minds which the wise guys tell us is illusion.
do we go with what we are told or with what we experience?
we don’t pay attention to much of anything only tune in enough to know what other people are into and doing.
we can barely make sense of any of it.
people are strange.
we are strangers.
and they want us to be into it and do it with them.
misery loves company.
we have nothing to offer in return.
only musing about everything.
only thinking for ourselves.
only living a simple quiet life.
not for everyone.
certainly not for the excitement seeking people around us.
if they don’t find excitement they make excitement.
how boring a life that can be.
but they’re the big success story.
everyone wants what they got -$$$.
who wants them for themselves without it?
the pain and anguish this world can be for so many.
is this what deepens our souls?
who has gained without suffering?
we wonder why this must be so but it is.
it comes and goes.
but it still sucks.
and this is why he doesn’t believe in an absolute all-loving all-knowing god.
if he as a stupid human can figure out what’s wrong with this picture then what is this god’s excuse?
it either couldn’t care less or it gets its kicks fucking with us and us fucking with each other.
any idiot can come up with a better idea than this.

but what does it matter?
it is what it is.
that’s that.
oh well.

like a ranting idiot

he wakes up early.
he decides to make coffee and stay up though he’s not sure what for.
more sleep would be good too.
a peanut butter burrito.
a toke.
a cigarette.
the world still as it was is will be – a dead end.
he remembers he has a box of ginger snap cookies.
there is always suicide.
he hits the inhalers.
there is always a fat black cat.
there is not much more than that.
so much going on in the world everyone else seems to be excited about.
the news of the day.
the news of the moment.
all the lies and propaganda.
the disinformation.
etc.
he ignores it all.
everybody with their opinions they claim as truth.
everybody in disagreement.
everybody is crazy.
he is tired.
he is lazy.
he shouldn’t be here.
it’s not done him or anybody else any good.
a fat waste of time in his opinion.
he could have been dead and asleep.
he has been dead and asleep.
what’s the point?
he sees a world being destroyed by those who don’t know any better but they should.
he knows nothing more than them and he’s figured it out.
what’s wrong with them and all the knowledge they’ve gathered?
are they just stupid?
they must be.
it’s the only reasonable explanation he can think of.
what do you think?
do you think?
maybe not.
maybe he doesn’t either.
thinking’s outta fashion.
does it matter?

not much it would seem.
he continues imagining himself sitting before the computer hunched over the keyboard typing out a not poem manifesto report to the committee about our theory of everything.
it’s his ball and chain.
he can do nothing else.
he can be nothing else.
he is doomed to it.
another cigarette as the demon commands him.
a mad god laughing screaming alone in the void inside his head of no use to him whatsoever.
nothing is of any use to him whatsoever.
what’s the point in knowing anything if it’s just useless information taking up his brain?
information about the world of which he has no interest in.
he never much has had any.
he’s not curious about it beyond what he needs to know in order to survive until he’s dead.
and he has little interest in other worlds either, not like so many others hoping for some way to escape this one.
there is no escape.
this world is the best and the worst that could possibly be.
it causes us nothing but worry and concern – mainly about other people and what they may or may not do more than the world itself.
he never wanted to be here.
he fought it all he could.
they had to drag him out with forceps.
no no no.
but here he is.
here he’s been and will be for a while more.
oh boy.
they tried to get him interested in whatever.
he would rather dream.
what in this world would be of any interest to him except that which is set out to kill him?
the whole world itself seems to be set out to do that – especially if you don’t have any $$$.
he is not impressed by any of it though there is much of it he has learned to fear.
he has gained thoughtlessness, but to be thoughtless in this world is dangerous.
that joy can be ripped away at any moment.
he dreams of a world where he is just left the fuck alone – no one demanding that he go to work to make them $$$.

the emptiness of it all.
the degradation of our lives this world inflicts upon us by those who sold their souls to it for $$$ and all that jazz.
the ones who have worked to overcome.
the ones who struggle to rise above the rest.
those who believe in the material success of this phony world.
the suckers born every minute the world feeds itself on.
but we’ve sung this song before and will ever again as long as it continues this way which it will forever.
who or what is gonna stop it?
there have been those who have try who get swallowed up in it once they taste power others are willing to give them and the $$$ it brings in and forget all their principles and ideals that they still yet preach for the support of the duped masses who don’t know any better and cheer and shout.
what a fucked up mess.
what can be done?
he can think of nothing – no hope.
he bides his time till he’s gone.
he is so over it.

when he was young and stupid he believed.
now he is old and stupider he has lost faith.
he has seen enough of this world to have figured out that it’s hopeless.
nothing changes despite everything changing.
still it follows the same patterns as before.
old habits are hard to break.
he sees no solution to it.
certainly not the circus clowns who promise if we let them take over everything will be better.
it’s against the nature of the world to improve.
everything works fine and dandy as it is for those few who benefit becuz they assume and maintain control.
don’t you wanna be one of them?
a rich rock star rebel type?
power and riches to do whatever the fuck you want to.
everybody does.
it’s our only hope to be as fortunate as that.
become the elite.
he has encountered this in everyone he has met even especially in the revolutionary underground – when there used to be one.
cliques decide whether you’re in or out.
he has always been out.
outcast by the outcasts.

so he stays to himself outta the way as best he is able in a world where people won’t leave you alone always wanting something from him he either hasn’t got or is not willing to give them.
so he watches and waits for something to be different though he knows it never will be nor can be by its nature otherwise.
oh well.
fuck it.
fuck it to hell.
arrrgh.
he hates this how it affects his thinking.
but what else is there to think about?
everything else is escapist fantasy.
everything he might fantasize comes back around to how fucked up everything is with people.
he has tried to reason around it but hasn’t been able to.
it’s fucking depressing.
something’s gotta crack.
look out when it does.
is that what it will take – breakdown of the whole new world order thing together?
what a waste.
what a thing to have happen when it could have been avoided if we just not been so greedy about it.
if we had actively thought and planed it to be sustainable instead of this path of destruction we are on.
but who listens to anything like that when there’s $$$ to be made?
yahoo.
so he sits it out as he’s always done.
why should he care when no one else seems to?
fuck it.
fuck it 1000 times 1000.
it could be so simple.
it could be so easy.
for all of us, not just the few.
but everyone struggling to become one of the few.
fight for it.
kill and die for it.

he has always felt the doom and gloom of this world despite its cheerful appearance it can put on otherwise.
he has always seen what’s been hidden.
he has been part of what’s been hidden.
someone who doesn’t fit into the overall plan.
but how good a plan is it if it includes only the few and excluding the many?
is there no other way we can think of?
even our ideal of heaven is exclusive to the few while the many are damned.
why can’t people think beyond their own selfish greedy selves to realize a world designed for all is way better?
no more conflict.
no more strife.
no more anything resulting from our greed.
and so on blah blah blah.

this is his report to the committee.
a report that’ll be filed and never read.
a report that means nothing.

everything comes and goes as it does.
but like waves on a beach it never changes except it is never the same wave to wave or tide to tide or moon to moon.
everything as if according to divine plan of whatever might be or not.
the supposed gods always displeased needing to be appeased with prayers and offerings and such as we are told by the high authorities on the subject.
what a setup.
even if it were true he still would laugh at it.
what a joke.

what a joke he is too.

beefsteak

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

beefsteak.

on a wayward mission

on a wayward mission to observe and report to the committee what we feel is relevant to the human condition preserved by police in riot gear expecting this birth to be complete failure.
we undertake what solutions might present themselves in our cause for death of ego induced reality oppressive regime donuts of flavored poison.
we bark up the wrong tree.
we become excited by our imagination of the meanings of events in no particular order to reasoned doubt.
we cannot doubt our own existence, it just makes matters worse.
but why this escape from whatever might be reality always on our minds to become somehow free to do unto others what has been painstakingly done to us in our turn?
we have nothing better to do?

let’s begin again.
this eve of deconstruction in outpouring waves of harmonic discord vibrations.
sing and dance.
fall down.
laugh.
not an easy thing to do.
all action is false action.
nothing ever happens.
we never get it quite right.
we must do it over and over until it is perfectly dead.
we are not here.
we become ghosts of ourselves.

the silly use of propaganda with cigarette in hand and its easy comfortable manner of form to inform the hordes of transgressions of evil flapping in the wind with eyesore.
a poem that is not poem.
a poet who is not poet.
the high art of cronyism and doubtful self-correcting impostered negligence.
the discovery of exuberant displays of anti-intellectual misgivings.
this is the cue for our betrayal with whispered command.
we become dizzy with consciousness with nuts on top and gut instinct.
all is perfection but not what we were expecting.

meanwhile, another easy morning while imagining himself at the counter at the diner once again in an eternal moment scribbling a not poem in a notebook about our theory of everything with self-doubt and forgetful dreams exploring fields of the surrounding love never quite found to our liking.
what would it take at this point?
he hates tuesdays.
a negation of duality blipping on/off sometime in the near future now whenever the mood might stike with all the noise of the jukebox playing its random selection of songs.
either we get it or we don’t.

the drama of what is sacrificed now for our peace of mind delayed until further notice becoming a flowering lotus blossom with our total understanding that we must escape this wheel while others hold on dearly for life around around everlasting which is not exactly what we had been expecting anymore.
the masses deserve our fate not taking responsibility for actions otherwise.
can we complain?
this disorganized world with disorganized minds leading the way for mob consciousness to reign supreme against itself.

a double shot mocha and a blueberry pancake and sausage with grapefruit juice.
here he sits all broken hearted.
tried to gain enlightenment and only farted.