GO-

GO-
the klown typing infamous epic not p0em for his own chuckling amusement and anxious energy and OCD mind like a red hot barbed wire dildo shoved up your fanny just to hear you screaming.
but not really.

kill the nazi-zionist illuminati reptilian alien overlords and their piggy human minions.
they know our greed too well.
there’s enough of us willing to give up everything to gain a taste of wealth.
nothing makes any sense to them except money.
art is appreciated not for its provocative beauty but only for how valuable it is.
nothing can stop this juggernaut from buying up everything under the sun.
nevermind.

the klown pauses in his typing and gets up to join in the cosmic dance around the stage at the burning theater though he is old and clumsy and in the way.
he falls down.
he laughs.

but before very much longer the whole theater is whirling and twirling with stomping feet and hoots and hollering and clapping hands.
the klown hops, skips, and jumps flying away to a meadow deep in the forest of dreams where he lands next to a stream where the monster lies asleep and snoring.
he takes out his notebook and pen and continues not p0em just for fun.

and more than that triggered authorized 800,000 people particular crisis directly shift building direct focus district liberal grabbing count are not experience win same side?
unhappy.

THERE IS NOTHING HERE?

thank you, man.
some sorta be-bop thing going around.
be careful it don’t get to you.
anything can be true to somebody who knew.
they don’t know they’re going extinct, do they?
you would guess not by the way they behave misbehaving.
the gods are very angry at us stupid foolish creatures.
do they wonder why they created us?
or is it a cosmic game they cannot get out of either?
what good is a god without free will?
but they sure love money.
it’s what they thunder and shout about.
the poor gods.

the klown understands fearing a god, but never understood loving a god.
who would be so stupid to love one as erratic as a god who could decide to torture you any given moment, or blink you outta existence?

doing things that don’t have a name yet.
who thinks this shit up?
let’s get small, shall we?
or don’t you remember?
this was how it was, now is how it is.
let’s not ever give it a name – not even once.
let’s let x=x.
find out at some point maybe what everything’s all about.
have no doubt.

all on the other side of this life.
can you make it?
cheerio.
fat angel.
to see everything flying to heaven through different dimensional gateways following along on twisty turny pathless paths around the bend over the hills and far away.
does anyone still have contact to physical reality?
does it still exist?
just wondering.

do we need somebody to love, or is that obsolete by now?
what is love but a certain series of hormonal interactions within the body in question?
or does the experience of being in love transcend those interactions as many would claim?

love love love.
hate hate hate.
between them, ±0.
the tipping point of the scale.
or something like that.
or not. !b����

down and out

down and out.

something for everyone – almost.
we’re fucked.
everything going down the toilet.
does the klown ever care?
not really.

continuing typing not p0em into the cloud the klown wondering about everything discovering he understands more than he imagines.
people in the streets as the clampdowns are on.
the only thing left for them to do.
good luck, people.

the information buzz on the interwebs.
tree to tree.
do you remember?
it seems like long ago we have been here before.
could it be?
time is fluid yet exacting.
the moment is forever as we have stated ago.
stationary yet moving.

nevermind that, cuz what about the different folk of the world and their diverse cultures that give them each a common social bond and traditions and language and such?
but what is that?
everything comes and goes changing and bringing change everywhere no matter how others might resist.
people of the land they consider holy except for the wanderers who find holiness in motion, who belong nowhere but where they are at the time.

and the empires that conquer them all and attract them all.
everybody wants in on the game, or to get outta the game – or both.
and those who struggle for their independence either individually from their people and/or collectively for their people.
it becomes quite a confusing mess much of the time.
argument, conflict, war.
us vs them.
preyed upon by the masters of reality playing games with humanity that few realize and fewer still question.
those pretending to be gods.

it is them we are against – our common foe.
do we rise up and resist and murder them all?
but that only creates a void others will fill quickly enough.
and it continues.

so be like a wise guy and/or a fool who both ignore that political business of the wealth power greed disease thing.
but anything might happen.
yes, it can.

nevermind that, cuz you’ve got better things to do with what limited time you are allowed.
like racing your car up to the next red light, revving it while you wait for the green, and such like that and other sundry things, etc.
wonderful.

the klown takes another toke or 2.
such a wonderful dream you can do little about but perform your act at the burning theater and hope someone else notices as we dance around each other.
everything is make-believe.
it’s sometimes this or sometimes that or sometimes the other thing, etc.

don’t you worry about nothing.
everything takes care of itself.
action through inaction, or whatever.
get away from the others as much as you are able, if you can.
into your head outta your mind.
washing ashore on a distant island in a distant sea.
how terribly wonderful it might be.
let the others have their day.
whatever they are willing and able to pay from their meager slave earnings while the masters rake it in millions of times more.

there is no solution the klown can tell.
it’s all locked in tight, no one can move.
the world empire crumbling as it stands.
the error in his thinking, what little he thinks about so much.
but, it’s medication time.
and he poops too.

squeak?

part 88 –

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

has.

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

but th

all are not created equal.™

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

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

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

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

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

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

?

the doctor of space

x90

awakening.
coffee, toke, cigarette.
tangled hair.
tangled head.
it’s medication time.
what’s more to relate than that?
but continuing on anyway with typing out not poem sitting before the computer as if.
possibility.
there is everything to relate – never beginning, never ending.
as it was is will be here now.
we can count on that.
as we can count on i am.
i am here now?
who am us?
we are them.
whew.

expensive propositions for that which should be free.
walking around wounded beyond repair.
he paints his masterpiece awhile.

frying potatoes, brewing more coffee.
another cigarette.
no expression of individuality allowed.
everyone is equal, friend.

responsibility thrown into a meaningless void of comfy nothingness.
building up the military is an idea.
increasing social programs is another.
let’s all go to the beach is yet another.
shall we debate the meaning of the present tense?
we don’t havta if we don’t wanna.
just because.

mixed up confusion about the nature of reality as if it has one nature.
two or more.
everything describes everything.
gazorbnik is experiencing everything.
impossible?
improbable?
maybe.

the nuclear buttons.
kablooie, and then some.
shrug.
sigh.

who thinks this shit up?
not us.

we are them.
was is will be.
we ain’t the boss of nothing.
wouldn’t dream of it.
let them play their games of sacrifice and honor.
what do we care?
they don’t trust us about nothing anyway.
he sleeps sleeping the whole next day.

awakening.
coffee, toke, cigarette.
feeling heavy of thought like a head full of bricks.
thick as a brick in the wall.
wiped out.
it’s medication time.

everything is a mockery of itself it seems even especially when it pretends to be serious.
satire is truth.
everyone impersonations of themselves.
but this world seems to be where when it’s happening for some reason.
the drama and the trauma.
those who go along as if nothing were askew.
askew to what?
askew to itself?
everything as a dream.

who looks at this world too closely?
what good does any of that do for anyone?
you can write a book about it.
people could read it.
oh boy.
does that make us smart or stupid?
as we mosey along our own merrie way on pathless paths of our experience.
tally-ho.
the great adventure.
just to have an adventure.
what other reason is there?
what other reason could there be?

simulated adventure.
simulated experience.
simulated consciousness.
everything simulated.
it would seem to be as if.
mind stuff.
a mockery of itself – hahaha.
delightful.

it’s a hard world – knock on wood.
that from nothing is quite an accomplishment.
not so worlds composed from dreamy wisps of imaginations however idyllic they may be.
the best and worst of all possible worlds.
a world of love of self and $$$.
material possessions.
command and control.
and so on.

who woulda thunk it?
not us.
or maybe us, come to think about it.
no matter.
it’s all the same if or if not.
what changes is ourselves.
he lights another cigarette.

sailing through >>> interesting times by some means or another depending on which of us with our various diverse theories do we each choose to believe might be true for whatever reason or not.
is this common sense?
is this occult hoodwinking?
is this gods?
is it the monkey in the middle?
– what?
dig it.

MC5

peculiar instances of generalized odd behavior yet become news items across the interwebs and beyond.
hard rocking working people doing that thang-a-doodle thing.
action/reaction yin yang virtual fireworks displays on the bayside waterfront attracting quite the nightly crowds of tourists to the imaginary city where they’ve been told that it’s happening which it would appear so to be with all the staged events and activities going on around here otherwise sideways kinda to bring in the $$$.
the imaginary city is very expensive.
but everybody’s got $$$ in the imaginary city.
we’re all winners.
its golden walkways know no bounds.
everywhere everywhen the imaginary city is everything.
on with the show.
calling all clowns to the evacuation camps.
be ready.
he sleeps.

sitting at the counter at the diner with a toothache scribbling not poem into a notebook this rainy morning the abused sick starving neglected while the world is turning in the dark being lit by the lamp of the sun and all that elliptical business thereupon the emptiness we may feel during the passing of our living lives as he orders eggs and toast and juice continuing trying to think about anything relevant to add to our theory of everything none of which is relevant to anything else which can present some problems to the rationalogic minds begging at our doors with reasoned conclusions at their feet singing songs of sorrow for the masses who are perturbed by their misunderstanding developed in terms of their continued apologies for the grace of ignorance in keeping within make believe objects to worship smashed by the roadwarrior mindset crowd roaring into town taking what they want and need to get along in space and time no one thinks much about these days putting 2+2 together into cow with sparkling sprinkles of love everlasting for the moment we become aware of ourselves for a while dreaming about something forgotten which might be anything so he thinks about everything he can about everything cuz it’s fun and dandy making his head feel dizzy with it turning around around as a serpent swallowing its tail down a rabbit hole which would seem to some to be a logical way to go but he knows better by now dodging out in time not to be fooled again with useless information all around cluttering the stage of the burning theater where singers and dancers perform their tricks they have learned to memorize and mesmerize the wanting crowds gathered out of boredom with nothing else to do with their time.

it begins and ends with 0.
but 0 is not the beginning nor end as there is still always before and after 0.
everything continues.
or something like that.
there is a clue here for the few and in-between who have doubts about themselves enough to come realize what it might mean which it don’t mean nothing which might be the point of it being it as it itself for the whole universe to see flaming goodness and light attributed to an almighty god above it all on high through propaganda devised to force our minds to believe when such a thing is impossible once we make efforts to think about it if we wish to which he has felt compelled so to do to the exclusion of nearly everything else like leaders and parking meters and other so on that make incomprehensible noises through annoying noses he thinks out of all he thinks he can think about finding answers hidden in questions spoken by dogs barking flowers as is the usual nonsense we respond to on our way toward paradise unknown to anyone else anymore forgotten as we had touched it giving it benefit of the doubt.

he comes home.
he naps.

awakening.
typing out scribbled not poem transposing it from one reality scheme to another like lines of falling dominos tracing hypnotizing designs and snap crackle pop op zop stop laughing screaming in his head come out, come out, whatever it may be some loathsome bandito riding toward the sunrise as the hero who saves the day.
could we dream this?
why not?
he paints his masterpiece awhile or so.

everybody knows dinosaurs are a hoax.
we are too.
or are we?
whose propaganda do we… ?
mix and match in with our theory of everything included including everything in contradiction with everything else and/or not – perhaps.
may the saints preserve us when all else fails.
or something like that and then some and so on… !

twisted twisting rats.
memory replacement germs.
tricks of the trade to maintain power in this 21st century schizoid world.
exponential skyrocket curve.
hooray!?!

_0O0_
|||||||||||
the last time we met we had to bet on who would win and who would lose among us.
on a beach of an island in the eye of a storm raging on an otherwise calm sea.
the sea is humanity.
this ain’t over yet, baby.
the tide is turning?
we pick through the wreckage of our lives washed ashore laughing.
who will win and who will lose among us?
tea balls.
listening…

butterfly #27

he always hesitates.
he is always lost.
but being lost to the others is being found by oneself.
know thyself.
we each all originate with i am.
the heart of it.
the living heart of it.
to be.
and then to be experiencing.
everything.
the ever-flowing spring of godhead thing-a-ma-bob.
according to many theories about everything which we include in with our theory of everything.
our nonexclusive theory.
sort of.

death to the heretics of our sacred truth.
gazorbnik.
contrary to everything.
from beginningless beginning to endless end.
as the finite is within the infinite as the infinite is within the finite around around serpent swallowing its tail logic thing.
1 > infinity.
2+2=moo.
a family walks down the street maybe to catch the bus.
the fat black cat plays with a paper wad.
itchy stiff banana.
dirty pants.
all-seeing eyeball peering outta the closet at shadow ghosts on the cave wall as seen on tv.
nuke the fuck outta it.
mint chocolate chip ice cream sandwich.
a toke.
a cigarette.
groupthink corporate control.
all for one and all for one.
hail victory.
hail gazorbnik.
hooray.

bah humbug.
but for all who act there are those who dream.
this seems to be the social equation.
we are x.
where we might fit in has yet to be determined.
it may be determined to be 0.
we may be reborn as ignorant sloths.
slow thoughts in our heads.
that might not be so bad.
it  works in everybody’s favor.
until we become extinct from their greed.
busy apes and all their $$$.
when they are left with all they can eat is each other.
but the human is to be left out of their calculations.
collective individual units of known value.
points on a graph.
let x=x.

a slice of cold pizza.
a ginger ale.
the theory of an absurd world – without meaning.
the angst and nausea.
the only cure is love.
the only cure to anything is love.
love felt in the heart rising above the fray of inner turmoil and torment in the gut.
climbing the ladder to success.
it’s always the way.
to be reunited with godhead – the lotus crown upon our heads.
the subtle body felt within.
the flaming sword held high.
a charging white horse through the rolling thundering clouds.

how many more times must this be?
when will there be an end?
when does this cease to be a competition for prizes of winners and losers?
those above and those below as we have convinced ourselves is the natural order of everything.
it’s all in our heads.
there is no subject or object.
there is love.
there is one.
one for all.

to be silent with secrets.
to reveal all patiently.
to slowly open the cocoon and dry our wings to fly away.
to live or die another day or night.

haphazard life.
without a pole star we wander along on pathless paths twisting turning on and on.
such is our fate in this life and probably any other.
we don’t see ourselves ever being much any different in any other life about not getting all excited about anything than we are now.
it’s just not our nature down to our very soul.
the sublimity of everything calls to us.
that is our thrill.
to have our minds blown full wide open calmly by all we are experiencing here now as we imagine sitting contentedly gazing out the metaphorical window into a changing world of light and shadow of energies flowing coming and going.
the only constant is the brutality of the others measured against us.
those who have no patience with anything they encounter.
but patience is the way.
we have found it to be so much to our chagrin at times with our impatience making fools of us.

to have sat around doing nothing but writing out endless words about everything as if it means anything.
he never felt he needed to pay much attention to anything beyond what is needed to survive in this world of excess.
he hid from everything.
he has had vague interest in this or that or the other thing that none of it captured his heart but a certain feeling of emptiness that is everything he sees around him being real or unreal as the case may be which to him doesn’t matter either way.
he did what he was told but not quite the way he was told to do it.
he wanted none of the rewards for good behavior given out meagerly by those in power to their faithful minions.
he knew what the game was about.
it’s all about them who grabbed it all first and were able to hold on to it for the time being.

wrestling with angels coming down the ladders from heaven.
hidden in a basement down with all the storage and washing machine and dryer and stuff.
thinking himself an artist of some sort but he was lost in a dream dreaming itself in his head.
going insane which he finally achieved.
it was the best thing that could have happened to him.
he thanks his fortune.
and still the angels added with demons in cahoots.
being human in a human world of inhumanity.
all part of a divine plan?
teach us a lesson we won’t soon forget?
or happenstance occurrence of existence?
to come to understand the absurdity of it?
break on through to the other side, yeah.
another cigarette.
another taste of bitter honey.
an overcast morning drying somewhat from the night rain.
sun burning through – or maybe not.
maybe more rain.
housework to be done.
trash day.

we’re on our way going nowhere (now here).
how does that translate?
what is its intended meaning?
what meaning is interpreted?
or is it nothing?
to have risen to the pinnacle of it only to fail and fall once more into the depths.
it comes and goes like waves on a beach somewhere else we might be imagining being on an island in the eye of a storm raging on an otherwise calm sea.
the sea is humanity.
the fun and excitement of it.
tossing and turning on high seas twisting in bed sheets in a wild dream.
we cause our own commotions.
subtle communications of energies of love to weave within the collective hodgepodge tapestry of the reality we feel within us and perceive around us.
if not love then at least tolerance.
yup, rain.

into it and out of it.
whichever may be needed at the time of the moment now in our dreams.
our dreams taking us away with flights of fantasy never ending.
why should we come down to the level of this world with all its misery?
and this is madness not enlightenment.
let us not make that mistake.
our hearts have wings being reborn to fly.
we have been wounded in our pursuit of happiness.
we are wary and trust no one.
we have given the others more than enough chances.
now we watch and wait.

as we endure their reign of rationalogic reasoning with them uncaring of consequences of their conquests.
a new age is promised by many who hold to certain theories of everything.
everything creating sustaining destroying in the process of transforming itself in each possible infinitesimal 0 dimension location of spacetime and beyond of the singularity plenum of nothingness as potential everythingness.
according to our theory of everything thus far as we understand it.
we need to start with realizing everything we know is wrong in order to begin.
beginning always.
each beginning is an end to the beginning coming before it.
if we so choose to divide the world into finite increments as is our prerogative at any given moment of time.
time “moving” fast or slow as we perceive it to be in our subjective relative perspective no matter how objective we try to be we remain who and what we are coloring our judgments.
another toke.
another cigarette.
how fast are we going?
the earth turning at a certain rate revolving around the sun at a certain rate the solar system around the galaxy at a certain rate the universe expanding at a certain rate and on and on like that.
thinking about whatever comes to mind.

what should we be thinking about?
the wise guys tell us to stop.
the agents provocateurs tell us to start.
everybody telling us what and how to think.
we come back to thinking about everything.
everything seems so matter of fact but when we think about what it might actually be if anything our thoughts astonish us.
this ontological mish mash of whatnot.
part fact and/or fiction.
who can know for sure?
we all know those who claim to know its truth but we know it’s just one more theory out of countless theories many of which cancel each other out so we are left with what is left to try to maybe fit that together somehow or another.
we are programmed to make sense of the universe that is otherwise wild chaos.
it’s hardwired into our brains.
seek and learn and understand.
when is our understanding complete?
when is infinity complete?

to end and to begin again to end again on and on through possible lifetimes of experiences shaped by karma vs dharma – individual will vs collective will.
who is right and who is wrong?
is there a cooperative compromise?
it would stand to reason that there should be given there being a continuum between the polarized pairs in complementary opposition creating the maya play of light and shadow appearing as reality.
the middle path as our gyroscope in our hearts and minds we walk wandering between the lines drawn by their territorial pissings.
by the authority we invest in ourselves we doubt all truths while trying to understand how and why they becomes truths to those who believe them to be so.
we believe all truths but do not believe any truth.
the answer is a riddle.
a riddle of truth hidden in the middle.

in the middle of doubt we continue imagining him sitting before the computer hunched over the keyboard typing out a not poem cuz he ain’t no poet about our theory of everything and such.
is there everything?
is it everything that is?
is it everything that could be?
is it what we reason?
is it what we imagine?
has it got our goat?

riddles of further questions that probably could continue forever.
if no one asks them do they exist?
questions everywhere everywhen in everything.
that is the full amazing glory of it.
that is the full gazorbniking of it.
sucking on a mentholated cough drop to help him breathe he takes out the trash and recycling.
he forgets to check the mail.
looking into it further and further following the questions instead of the answers.
questions are truth.
truth?

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.

potato logic

b

gazorbnik is a verb – to gazorbnik.
we are gazorbniking.
gazorbnik is a noun – that which is gazorbniked.
or something like that.
that’s as much as we know.

precarious balance on a tightwire in our heads following the middle path as buddha advises.
are we in nirvana yet?
is this a joke?
this doesn’t seem quite right.
as we imagine him sitting before the computer hunched over the keyboard typing out a not poem cuz he ain’t no poet about our theory of everything on and on and so on.
the strong and powerful who rule the world and get things done and the women and men who adore them.
feed their prideful überegos while we live in the shadows of the monuments they have built to themselves.
how soon do we get to leave this world?
move to a place where when we can dream of everything.
or is that too much to ask?
we grow weary of their antics trying to outdo one another.
who can make the most $$$ destroying the earth the fastest and the more extensively?
but we have found our own worlds in places hidden from ordinary view.
we have found madness.
this is all that is given.
this is all we can take for ourselves what no one else wants.
they write history as they want to serve themselves.
we are written out of it as those who are undesirable for whatever reason.
their story cannot be blemished by our existence.
we are just an unruly mob from their vantage point.
and we are at that.
who wants to be ruled over by them or anyone?
many seem to.
they do not refuse.
they do not resist.
they do not protest.
they bend over to salute and take it.
coffee.
a toke.
a cigarette.
but everything abides.
we must remember that when thinking about everything.
it brings comfort to us to imagine something more real than the fake reality of this world.
something to call home – everywhere everywhen.
something that puts all their wondrous achievements to shame and disgrace while they hold their inflated heads up like balloons.
we can only laugh.
and they’re out to get us but they don’t know quite who we are.
they would be surprised to find out we are not the bogythings they imagine in their nightmares while they toss and turn unable to get a good night’s sleep while we snooze away in happy dreamland.
they ridicule us in the mass media.
they want us to appear as fools so no one will believe us.
who needs to believe us?
are we evangelists?
do we need converts in order to reinforce our beliefs?
do we need to prove anything to anyone?
not really.
we babble our nonsense and if no one gets it then it’s their loss not ours.
we go on our merrie way.
hahaha on them.
all the more for us, baby.

we explore the dimensions of spacetime thingie with thinking is the best way to travel.
we dance on the moon turning the tides of the waves on distant beaches of imagination where every day is a vacation paradise of some sort of another.
we walk down the street and no one bothers to notice us one way or another.
we exist in this world but are not a part of it.
we take no credit.
we accept no blame – and there’s lots of that to be had.
let the others monkey around with that shit with one another pointing fingers and all the rest.
we stay far removed as we can be.
we are here only to observe and write our report to the committee.
listening to strange sounds.
gazing out the window at the neighborhood with people walking and driving by.
just another day in the trailer park.
our own little slice of heaven on earth if we want it to be.
we must remember that we choose.
but which of us does the choosing?
we are legion.
there are arguments among ourselves as to the nature of the world and our existence and its meaning.
we are either plunging to disaster or rising above the turmoil and trouble.
it seems a little of both among other things we have yet to imagine which could be far better or far worse.
the best and worst of all possible worlds.
it’s we who decide which.
and la-dee-da.
and so on.

it’s a sunny winter day.
he’s feeling ok for the moment.
he thinks back and muses that he should have been more proactive and disciplined about his state of mind and being.
oh well.
he has a great gift of imagination that takes care of that and fills in the missing pieces.
he’s a lazy bum.
what more can we say about that?
but here he is at the end of his life feeling fine yet a bit harassed by things in general.
it hasn’t been easy nor has it been for anyone else.
we all have stories to tell.
but he has his moments when nothing can touch him.
but he has he moments when everything is out to get him to bring him down.
it comes and goes like that.
the medications he’s prescribed don’t do squat as much as he can tell.
what’s wrong with him besides being human?
this is the human experience after all.
that’s what we’re doing here all about.
spin the wheels of confusion and dive into it and see where we land.
born into chaos we gradually order to our preference guided by the influence of others.
they tell us who they want us to be according to their own specifications and personal need and desire and fear.
nature and nurture do their job on us with indoctrination as the cherry on top.
we must then figure out how to break out of it to realize what the fuck.
it’s not as it appears or is told to us.
no one knows shit – the so-called masters included.
we steal from them what suits us best for our own purpose and design.
fuck them anyway.
we hop, skip and jump away beyond their reach.
we learn to fly.
we learn to sit still and be quiet.
we absorb everything.
osmosis.
we delight in everything while we agonize over it.
we are subject to the pain and suffering of this world.
we cannot deny that.
yet we devise ways of avoiding it to trick even fate itself.
most of the time.
the gods are on our side.
they answer our prayers we do not make.
why bother?
it is as it is and we’re pretty much fine with it as such though we can imagine everything being so much better for everyone.
but that’s not how it works.
there must be dharma karma drama to keep the gods entertained while they watch it on tv.
we certainly provide them with that.
there is no right way or wrong way as we are taught to believe.
nothing is forbidden and everything is permitted.
that is the only law of the universe.
we make it up from there as to what is and what is not.
we being a social species need certain amount of order to function.
but with order comes chaos as a natural complementary opposing consequence.
we will never be free of one nor the other.
the philosophers attempt to establish some sort of proper behavior and dismiss all who refuse to follow it from their theories.
we embrace it all in with our theory of everything.
it is not what the gods ordain but what we ordain – or what those of us with wealth and subsequent power ordain.
there are rules they tell us that must be obeyed or we face certain oblivion.
we seek oblivion from them.
we do not wish to be written into their book of life.
they are a dull and stupid people.
let them have eternity if that is what they wish.
we will take the fleeting moment now.
but they take that opportunity to enslave us.
they need us to carry out their actions while they sit in the shade with their lemonade.
but we got them beat on that.
they are our puppets.
we make them dance and sing for their supper.
this is our secret.
this is our magick we revel to no one.
who would believe us anyway?
hahaha.

as we imagine an island in the eye of a storm raging on an otherwise calm sea.
the sea is humanity.
and there ain’t nobody here but us chickens.
we watch and wait and no one appears.
we don’t really want them to.
they’d start building hotels and shit.
that’s all they understand is $$$ and how to make it without ever thinking about why.
relax, fuckers.
enjoy the moment with us.
but they cannot.
they are far too busy competing against one another to get on top of the game.
maybe they can pencil it in next week sometime.
or never.

and so it all goes from there to here we are somewhere in the middle digging it.
we must remember who and what we are not who and what they tell us we are which is usually not that flattering.
let them flatter each other with pomp and ceremony and all that shit.
look at them parade themselves around.
they look like dressed up circus clowns to us.
but then we are told we are delusional.
oh well.

he writes as he thinks as he writes.
gobbledygook dada-doo-wah-dum-ditty doo-doo.
as he comes to understanding about everything moment by moment though there ain’t no such thing as a moment except the moment eternal now.
that’s the trick of it.
philosophers can go fuck themselves and it appears to him that is exactly what they are doing and do it so magnificently.
he gives up on all that jive.
his own philosophy is to be and not to be.

first i was iridescent.
then i became transparent.
finally i was absent.
– paul kantner

2746

everything is wonderful.
oh boy.
everything is as it ought to be.
a place for everything and everything in its place.
everything everywhere everywhen.
be here now.
an arrangement of magick.
the spacetime machine.
the living organism of the universe.
there is no death.
creepy guy drives by in car out the window.
it’s all out the window.
everything is irrelevant.
everything we know is wrong.
this isn’t happening.
that is what they tell us.
they tell us of the godhead we might attain if we surrender ourselves to ourselves.
never.
not us.
and for this we are damned, as the story goes.
creepy guy drives by the other way.
we exist in the muck and mire of this mundane material world when higher worlds of more refinement are available to us if we cooperate in their schemes of enlightenment.
the crown of creation.
to imagine that a world like this might be possible.
the best and the worst of all possible worlds.
swirling twirling dervishly along pathless paths through wilderness dreamtime mindscapes with waves of light and shadow and all duality continuums creating sustaining destroying in a moment eternally now.
birth life death.
it comes and goes.
waves.
tides.
moon.

a not poem about our theory of everything.
a scattered brain thing to do.
we don’t know what else to do.
but as such we have the time and the inclination for such foolhardy adventures into… ???
why not?
we’ve only ourselves to lose.
spin those wheels one more time.
the mandalas they create are sublime.
projected into a spacetime universe.
dive in.
swim around.
pure fantasy – but, so what?
humans have evolved with a strong instinctive need for fantasy.
it shapes our reality – whatever reality might be or not.
it becomes truth whether it is truth or not.
the leather whip on human flesh.
truth relative to the beholder.
the rationalogicists will behold a rationalogic universe.
to each our own truth.
whatever gives everything its meaning.
that which is.
cum fiesta dance party.
dig that crazy beat.
if there is a that which is which may not be as we imagine it being.
god/not god.
another duality we must contend with in our struggle to comprehend everything we might be able to under the circumstances.
the circumstances of ourselves being human – whatever that might mean.
creatures or gods?
or…?

but enjoy it while it lasts.
it will all disappear in a blink.
hahaha.
now what?
a mad god laughing screaming alone in the void inside his head.
true or false?
maybe?
or not?

solipsism is an illusion.
he keeps telling himself this.
he has a vested interest in this world – any world.
he misses his home blue neptune from where he was kidnapped by space pirates and brought here to this weird planet of even more experiences to behold as if all in a dream which of course it could be and probably is of some sort or another.
he misses floating in the atmosphere.
he misses his gasbag body with its tentacle reach and 360 vision catching and absorbing other life forms floating by.
being the crown of creation.
being the center of the universe.
he tries to remember more but it recedes into the fogbank of memory.
but the essential gist of it continues in his mind and spirit.
his being then is the same as his being now unchangingly changing.
that’s the trick of the trade.
the trade of wandering exploring discovering learning understanding everything.
then forgetting it all in an instant.
don’t blink.
but the spirit of it continues onward upward through the spheres to rise above once more surfacing in godhead laughing the last laugh.
beginning again.
spin, baby, spin.
sit on it and rotate.
where are all those wise guys here now?
same as it always was.
we do not need to be forgiven.
we do not accept being damned.
fuck that religion shit.
the gods are on our side.
whatever our fantasy of it we might wish it to be.
onion bagels with cream cheese and a ginger ale.
a cigarette.
too many worries in this world.
it gets into his head.
nothing like a good cliffhanger to keep you coming back for more.
what will happen next?
a world of amusements.
a world without shame or remorse – and with no excuse.
a world that cannot explain itself except as being becoming ever-blossoming lotus flower floating on a pond in a wild thunderstorm – yahoo!
a lotus flower dependent upon the nourishment its roots provide buried in murky depths of mucky mud.
that would be us.
down in the depths of this gravity well world.
shunned by our betters who obey the rules and gain their reward.
it is a contest of who wins and who loses.
but which is which?
we would not trade our lives for theirs in so much pain of greed.
we have happy simple lives with simple thoughts to play with.
everything is uncertain.
fate has no favorites.
fortune has no rhyme or reason.
we each all take our chances.
let’s spin it again.
let’s see where we land this time.
another cigarette.
medication time.

he kinda digs it and it kinda drives him nuts.
the whole spectrum thing.
a world of continuum dualities of complementary opposition.
the spell of the knowledge of good and evil clouding our judgment.
we often get the two confused especially when they get muddled in the middle.
this is it, baby.
this is the world we’ve heard stories about – for real.
what a fucking trip.
the best and the worst of all possible worlds – in theory.
our theory of everything he types out as a not poem on the computer to post for the amusement of others – if they might be so amused.
his scattered babbling thoughts of this and that and the other thing on and on gently down this stream of whatnot and whatever.
another toke.
they shake and tremble chained in the throes of agony/ecstasy howling clutching in each other’s arms.
maya schmaya.
this life is a joke.
get it?
neither do we.
hahaha.

beatniks out to make it rich.
hththththt.
let’s think thoughtcrimes.
we wanna be free from this state – the state of ourselves.
who is witch?
the magick pole in the hole.
a secret tongue lashing.
top level circle jerks.
shit in the face.
sperm count.
what else?
those crazy nazi-zionist illuminati reptilian alien secret chiefs.
what will they think up next?
this world is for their amusement.
fuck everybody.
no time to waste cuz time is $$$.
$$$ is everything they think and dream about.
they love it.
they can never get enough.
we are them.

the manipulations of spacetime across the plenum creating the illusion of spacetime.
the answer is a riddle.
but not every riddle is an answer.
monkey in the middle of a riddle in a pickle.
run, monkey, run.
catch that carrot.
what’s up, doc?
the doctor is in/out.
ask the doctor what it’s about.
but, please, don’t shout.
it’s very rude.
don’t be so crude.
just sit there and brood.
the fox is in the henhouse.
everything and everyone that has come and gone as needed at the time for our mutual advantage – or not.
but even the negative experiences have an advantage for us.
the lesson learned too late.
the world is still like the school playground from our youth.
the bullies and the wallflowers.
the leaders and the followers.
the erratic nervous wrecks.
the loners.
spaghetti with butter garlic parmesan.
things are tight.
they’re turning the screws, baby.
everything’s coming up roses.
everybody’s getting their doses.
are we happy now?
probably not.

there is no hope for the masses.
stubborn mules.
we must rise above each on our own.
find that secret garden gate in plain sight between our desire and fear.
walk between them and enter.
goal oriented action.
he’s never had any goals except to hold on and be here now.
goals are for those who want to achieve something for themselves blindly ignoring what is.
the pursuit of fleeting happiness.
expectation and disappointment.
success and failure.
let it go to go with the flow.
the flow going down the toilet as it may seem.
been there, done that.
crash landing on easy street where all the ugly beautiful people meet.
climb back up outta that hole.
regain some semblance of living a life.
a matter of perception they tell us while ripping us off for all what little we got.
life isn’t fair and neither are we.
any excuse to fuck over someone else.
he lights another cigarette.
the pause that refreshes calming the anxious twitching of our brain.
a bit like being the ones who are insane.
but we don’t let that worry us.
we are them.

the others are self-centered inconsiderate jerks.
no sense of cooperative community spirit except to get others to cooperate to do what they want for their own gain.
move outta the way.
let them by speeding ahead.
the bridge is out.
we have to remember how to fly.
to imagine and dream other realities as delusional as they may seem be to anyone else.
who are they?
to enforce peace on earth with their wealth and power and desire to control.
everybody frightened to do anything wrong – to look the wrong way.
what a place to live a life not worth living.
but they don’t care.
they love $$$ and they’re gonna get it no matter what cost to anyone else – to everyone else.
the gurus and mystic masters among them.
we trust no one.
should we trust ourselves?
which of the voices in our heads do we follow?
who is looking out for our best interests?
think/don’t think.
wake up and dream.

to keep the rabble in line and working as they ought to be.
strict rules must apply and be maintained.
no room for human error.
the machine will not tolerate any deviation or perversion of command.
we’re nothing but a buncha freaks.
spanners in the works.
bring it down to the ground where we might understand.
rejects from the homogenized sterilized gene pool.
can’t have us coming around again causing trouble.
and we’re ok with that.
let this world isolate itself from living life.
let this world become a dead wasteland.
we have no claim to it.
we move on to brighter skies from this perpetual darkness.
a distinction we must overcome within ourselves.
why do we desire one and fear the other?
all is maya.
all is continuums of duality shaping the world we imagine that we might be able to perceive it with the contrast it creates that produces sensations either from within or without doesn’t matter.
nothing of that can be proven.
what is known and not known among us by whoever we might be at the time.
we are here only to observe and report to the committee.
reports no one will ever read but get archived into databanks of memory for some future purpose perhaps but probably not.

he is curious about such few things but everything all at once everywhere everywhen experiencing here now.
to bring it down to what is true and what is false.
a world of self-deception.
that is the only way it can exist.
we are to believe that it is a battlefield of cosmic forces.
what makes us so fucking important that a god would reach down to act.
or does it?
god just watches tv.
the drama unfolds.
the plot thickens.
this cesspool of a world.
the city on the hill – a shining beacon to us all in our misery to gaze upon it from afar.
the more afar the better for the concerns of its citizens robed in self-glorification.
those who have proven themselves our betters by making tons of $$$ and usurping command of all resources distributed to their advantage.
we will never win.
we can only replace one group of pigs with another.
revolution never won.
it just gives us the chance to do what they have done.

we keep to ourselves as much as possible.
why should we join them in their games against one another in a contest of competition?
even in their sense of spiritual matters it’s the same.
they never will change their minds.
cooperation is compromise.
compromise is defeat.
defeat is death.
death is oblivion.
but oblivion must happen if we are to be free of ourselves.
or not.

part 6 –

yes, you spiritual masters, you are in on the same game.
do not hold your heads so high.
by doing so you only prove our point.
we will listen but we will not follow.
you do have a few interesting things to say that might be useful for our own way along on pathless paths to wherever we might end up though there is no end except the death of this world from ourselves as we move on to new adventures we choose spinning wheels and flipping coins into fountains and so on.
while others rage against the machine that takes very good though precarious care of us on roller coaster rides from the heights of heaven to the depths of hell.
do not tell us about reality.
we know all the tricks you’ve got up your sleeves.
we use our imagination to slip past your reach of your mind’s eye dazzled by the tantalizing designs of your supposed enlightenment.
cover yourself with gold stars if that pleases you – or more important it is pleasing to your own masters.
where are our masters besides the ones who have us in chains?
that is the thinking of this world – enslave or be enslaved.
who governs the ungovernable – the idiots?
let us be with the errors of our ways.
you go your way and we go ours.
we’ll watch and wait for you in the garden if you can find your way to it.
maybe we can laugh together if you might lower yourselves and reserve judgment to do so.
we are them.
you are not us by admission of your own words and actions.
you hold yourself aloof from us with your ideas of holy and unholy not seeming to realize it’s another duality of maya.
you are silly.
we laugh.

we dream along not knowing right or wrong nor particularly care other than the judgment of others who then force it upon us as reward/punishment dada thing that is a bother about nothing but how they perceive and structure their world they impose on us minding our own damn business as they seem unable to do themselves cuz they have so much knowledge to impart all must be aware.
and they worship gods the same.

we pleasantly grin with teeth clenched.
we hold on with fingernails.
a real cliffhanger.
another adventure we must endure.
another lesson to learn too late.
but we have no regrets.
we know not what we do.
forgive us or not, it’s not our choice.
but we live with it every day come what may or may not.
fate decides our fate.
are we to be exonerated or damned?
are we to be spared to carry on or cast aside into a bottomless pit?
this too is not our choice.

greed rules the world.
everybody wants a piece of the action.
we turn nothing away beneficial or detrimental.
which is what?
do we know?
do we care?
sucking cock on a tuesday afternoon under the sun in a field of daisies.
where has it all gone?
when will it return?
we want what was from our happier days as we remember and forgetting the misery we felt then with small brief joys interspersed between.
this is inspiration as we know it.
this is the measure of our shortcomings.
believe it or not.
never mind.

our heroes are dead and dying.
where do we go from here?
chaos or community?
have we forgotten what we are supposed to do?
have we accomplished all we asked for?
are the gods pleased or angered?
we exercise our free will whether or not we have free will.
it’s just fate.
all our plans gone to waste.
all our designs into confusion.
we are human, what did we expect?
peace, love and understanding?
everyone knows that is fantasy never to be except as we each realize it on our own.
that’ll be the day.
it’s the furthest thing in most of our minds caught up in enjoying life in the moment – or dreading it.
but there is always SEX.