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…

possessed

a toke.
a cigarette.
a not poem we are them manifesto about our theory of everything.
everything without beginning or end beginning ending everywhere everywhen we decide to perceive it beginning ending in our reality as it works for or against us for our purposes or the purposes of others we allow to manipulate our reality and such like that as it will be forever before and after as it is up to us individually to weasel our way out of it one way or another against the tides of fascist fashion of groupthink evolution toward oneness of the collective which means no disquieting disparaging thought on the part of any of the parts thereof in synergistic symbiosis of psyche in competitive coexistence rolling toward the promised land of ages old myth and legend while it destroys all in its path to salvation.
he’s got the heebee jeebees that occur to him once in a while coming and going with the contentment he feels otherwise that ebb and flow in a dance coloring his perceptions of what’s happening or not that he tries not to take seriously but that’s easier said than done sometimes like this.
dreaming dreams of dreaming dreams ad infinitum seeming real while dreaming them that it is difficult to think that they might not be as they are all interwoven into a tapestry of everything possible to experience from our imagination or not.
or something like that.
there are any number of explanations of what everything is or means we have to choose from to believe or make up our own for ourselves alone any one or all of which might be true if there is truth which rationalogic reasoning tells us there must be and only one truth blah blah blah.
whatever it might be or not we must obey its demands upon us.
it is everything and we are nothing – unless the opposite is true.
could be.
why not?
we wish we had a prescription for your happiness or whatever you desire most of all.
we wish we had a magick mantra to keep your fears at bay.
but we don’t.
we just babble on from our own sense of amused contentment in our garden before the onslaught begins.
the masses are hungry.
they must be fed with whatever synthetic stuff we might feed them to satisfy their lusts for more more more unending demand.
they feed at the trough of mass media hocus pocus swill and can’t get enough.
they believe what they are told about the matters at hand being taken care of without question that might find meaningful expression besides the endless complaints they have about everything in general one way or another .
we’ve seen past all that and put it in our hat.
we’re so special.
ha.

a beginningless beginning.
and endless end.
exactly where are these points to be found when something appears from or disappears into nothing?
can they be measured?
do they exist?
everything fades into and out of existence in the infinitesimal reaches of oblivion and beyond.
the void claims everything as its own with a mad god laughing screaming alone at its own reflections knowing this is the truth of reality as is was is will be continuing a dance with itself as energy waving like a burning flag in the field of flags up on a hill of broken bodies the victors stand upon in anxious celebration.

every monkey has its day.

he writes as he thinks as he writes along on pathless paths toward exactly what he is not quite entirely sure.
the destination is the journey itself.
something may be be only one thing but may mean many things.
that’s one of the clues it would seem in our dream.
it’s all part of their scheme to twist us outta shape from ourselves into their designs for world conquest.
we have little choice but to go along with it as it constitutes what we perceive as reality or whatever.
the reality they impose upon us sucks.
a homogenized monotonous goop of the lowest common denominator the masses might comprehend such that they keep working making $$$ for the pigs.
our reality is much much better by far with a myriad of possibilities though in their terms of needing to be productive and profitable it is greatly lacking and thus is for only the few and far between who are able to understand how it could be fitting abstractly into cracks in the concrete world falling to pieces around us when it was supposed to last 1000 years.
there is something about them who look for the eternal in that which never changes, who believe truth is etched in stone.
what a mockery that is.
it is not eternal life but death they seek and worship through the ages.
and so on.
and he lives in dreams.
and he is useless to anyone.
and he is not that interested nor interesting.
he is this human thing concerned with his own existence and survival in this world of pleasure and pain and such like duality dada he is born into and dies from.
and that’s all she wrote.
the world could not care about what consciousness he achieves or not.
the world could not care if he lives or dies.
he could not care if the world lives or dies.
if it vanishes like a dream when we awaken.
but where when does he awaken to?
another reality?
but a reality of the same questions about it that the reality of this world has.
what difference does it make?
zip.

the poor ego tries valiantly to struggle and hold on.
poor little guy.
why is such an idiot pitted against the world at large he doesn’t quite understand.
but then he is the ego it would seem.
that’s what they tell us.
an ego against billions of other egos.
egos fraught with desires and fears.
why the ego?
are we vehicles for spirits bored with nothing else to do but go for a joyride in a mortal body till it breaks down and dies?
refuse and resist.
overcome ourselves.
rise above.
hahaha.

he doesn’t know what to do with himself.
he’s been told by many others what he should want to do.
to do what they do.
pay attention.
learn.
become.
but what to become?
he just wants to continue dreaming dreams.
why he dreams of this world he doesn’t know.
this world is so troubled and troubling.
all these other humans overpopulating the earth along with him.
somebody should do something about that.
blow something up or something.
blow up a balloon until it explodes in your face.
that’ll teach them a lesson.
the tao of the absurd.
if there is not room for the absurd then what good is any philosophy or science or religion or whatever?
we include the absurd in with our theory of everything.
how can it be a theory of everything without it?
their theories suck.
they eliminate everything that does not fit in with their theory to make it work and make $$$ for the pigs who employ them.
our theory does no such thing except the $$$ we’re paid to be crazy and think up theories of everything and such whatever and write not poems about them if we want to.
our theory is discombobulated mish mash of whatnot as it supposed to be.
that seems to us to be what everything is in and of itself.
or it is in our discombobulated mish mash of whatnot minds.
which is a reflection of which?
is this just our madness?
we wander about in our confusion only we are not confused.
we understand our confusion very well.
we’ve lived with it our whole lives through.
it’s those who cannot deal with their own confusion and develop rigid thought systems to wall themselves up and keep it hidden from them and their uncomprehending minds.
and they think they are correct in this as they are able to be successful and make $$$ – the one true sign of their wisdom and intelligence.
to hell with the rest of us.
but we have what they do not and $$$ cannot buy.
we have gazorbnik which is the key to everything.
all we have to do is to gazorbnik and our confusion becomes our friend and ally.
but this isn’t really true except in certain instances of doubt.
doubt is the engine of gazorbnik and our understanding.
gazorbnik is a word he made up or perhaps stole from somewhere he doesn’t now remember where or when.
gazorbnik is meaningless.
that is its power.
when we understand the nature of meaninglessness we may understand everything that confronts us – or not.
for all we know gazorbnik is the name of a demon who possesses us to make us mad.
why not?
or an angel.
whatever.

another toke.
another cigarette.

 

||||||_____|_____||||||

hoopla hoopla oink oink hoopla – wheeeeeee!

are we having fun yet?
sure thing there, zippy.
lottsa fun.
oh boy.

we pity no one.

the party is on.
let’s sing and dance.
let’s fall down.
let’s laugh.
then get back to work, suckers.
$$$ makes the world go around.
and we do love our $$$.
we can always climb our way to the top if we want more.
there’s no more room, but if we push and shove enough we can get ourselves up in with the uppity in crowd.
won’t that be special?
or you can cry real tears at your unfortunate misfortune and we’ll put you on tv and the world can tweet their sympathies.

welcome to the real world, baby.

the point to this is pointless.
the meaning is meaningless.
as the rain is falling.

we are them.
we are at every level of the enterprise directing from behind closed doors.
the project must continue.
it will continue.
there is nothing stopping it now.
born in the dark ages of our prehistory that only scattered evidence remains to be discovered.
no one will figure it out till everything is done as planned.
amazement will be in every wide eye as realization dawns in our collective consciousness.
or not.
failure is always an option.

as he continues typing out a not poem manifesto about our theory of everything or whatever sitting before the computer hunched over the keyboard wondering where he left this mittens before he remembers he has no mittens.
cream of mushroom soup from a can.
he hits the inhalers before taking a toke and lighting a cigarette.
he sits awhile not knowing what to do next.

then suddenly he takes a nap.

and upon waking up he hits the inhalers before taking a toke and lighting a cigarette.
he sits awhile not knowing what to do next.

as old as he is now he’s never grown up and had to really face reality.
he’s always been buffered by dreams and fantasy which somehow worked to his advantage he doesn’t know quite why.
what is the true answer?
he doesn’t care.
we don’t care.
truth is irrelevant to what we experience.
everything is made up in our heads whether true or false.
reality mixed in with fantasy.
the reality of what we experience as being real with the fantasy of what we think it means.
a rock is a rock until we build our church upon it.
this is what human experience is – or so we surmise from our own experience and observations and accounts of others and their experience.
and so on.

he doesn’t like shepherd’s pie.
that’s his experience.
apparently it is not the experience of many others.
which is truth?
truth is a riddle.
truth is a joke.
truth is a shepherd’s pie in the face.
yum!

there’s a tribe he read about who sit on a river bank near naked all day and eat honey.
meanwhile we are civilized psychotic wrecks.
which is truth?

the truth is in the pudding.
what truth we may believe in at any given time is always up to question.
this is what a theory is.
we do not state we know the truth of everything.
we state that we have a theory of everything.
many people do not know the difference and confuse one for the other.
truth to kill and die for.
a theory upon which our professional careers rest.
don’t forget to follow the $$$.

$$$ leads to god.
the more $$$ you got, the more god you got.

it works out this way when we try to fit everything into our theory of everything.
everything that is in contradiction and conflict.
everything that is true and/or false.
everything that is real and/or not real.
and all the other complications of it.
but everything in reality (what we know of reality) seems to fit everything into itself just fine – more or less.
thus, we should be able to do it.
but that may not be true.
but why not?

the raven

we endure their pestilent puerile presence among us to rise to rule over the multitude and to generally be assholes unto others anywhere we might find them in our churches, our workplaces, our schools, our prisons, our homes where they weasel their way into positions of vague authority and power becuz the rest of us else couldn’t care less except for those doppelgänger troublemakers making trouble for everybody concerned and on and on for generations after generations and so on, etc.
he envisions no way to untangle these knots even impatiently using a sword slashing through them indiscriminately offers no solution but to a soldier’s uneasy logical mind.
the war that can never be won nor entirely lost.
the phoenix rises again from ashes of its annihilation.
the same old song sung from more romantic times than these of post-postmodern mundane impoverished culture without popular memory but instant jerkoff gratification.
and we shall always be with them again and again.
even their advanced eugenics science will not eliminate us.
we are glitches in the very machine itself not necessarily in the programming.
we are human error.
even if humans are replaced with robots we will still appear.
we’re cockroaches, baby.
we’re bedbugs that bite you at night and make you itch.
we’re nothing but trouble anywhere we go.
mostly trouble for ourselves.
but you can’t get rid of us.
we can’t get rid of ourselves.
we are doomed to our ill fate.
we sing and dance.
we fall down.
we laugh.

it doesn’t matter what any of us do or not do – though we tend toward the latter.
all we need do is exist by any means available to us to do so with a minimum of effort involved as possible to get away with.
exist and experience and observe what we experience.
and to imagine improbable possibilities from there.
and to take lottsa naps.

we contribute next to nothing but perhaps grunt meaningless labor if we really have to which sometimes happens though we try to avoid it.
it all depends on the weather of fate.
and a selection of fruit to munch on while we pretend everything is ok.
but why should it not be so?
too many negative thinkers of every ilk among us spreading negative government disinformation and subversive propaganda and absolute truth.
the world would be such a better place without them.
free to imagine what we will and make it so.
but maybe this isn’t supposed to be a better world.
we’ve laid the earth to waste trying to make a better world for ourselves.
we are a plague.
a human plague.
and all the plagues of various sorts that plague us are earth’s defense against us – earth’s antibodies.
so far we’ve suffered through them to the earth’s increasing detriment.
now what?
which side does god take on this one?
god who?

she spread open her cunt for everyone to see.

dumping another load

or else the reality the world is as dimensionally flat as it appears with nothing hidden within it to be discovered.
we doubt that but it may be so insofar as most people are concerned about it being.
there is no evidence otherwise than our imagination of possibility and our independent experiences.
this world gives nothing away easily.
it likes to keep its mystery – if it has any.
the mystery may only be our notions that there is mystery.
we need to accept the possibility that this may be true that which can only be proven to be true.
other than that we are idiots babbling on about our delusions we are given medications to silence.

a rock is a rock.
nothing changes about it.
it is eternal the same.
there is nothing in the mind.

it seems to us what a dull stupid world to live in only believing what our senses tell us is reality and to imagination nothing else.
never minding anything other contrary to this factual world.
the world measurable and measured to the far reaches of our technological devices doing so.
what mysteries might be encountered are ultimately resolved using calculations of rationalogical reason with known provable facts and data until the whole of the universe is explained.

a world where madness cannot easily exist.

screw it

it has been said we are insane – in a state of mind that prevents [frees one from] normal perception, behavior, or social interaction.
fuck people and their damned backward rationalogical thinking screwing things up for everyone in their denial of the obvious .
gonna wave that freak flag high higher highest.
monkeys going apeshit.
no one cares anymore.
there is no meaning  – boo fucking hoo.
and all that jazz.
people allow it to get them all upset.
excitable.
as seen on tv.
he tries to hold on through it but doesn’t know if he can much anymore with the weather of late from the psychic spheres.
he sits at the counter in the diner scribbling a not poem in a notebook about our theory of everything.
oh boy.
he’s nervous and jumpy.
too much happening at once making noises.
he can’t think right – or wrong.
he feels everything around him oddly uncomfortable.
the times they are a-changing.
that old over played song of our times.
and the waving burning flags in the field of flags up on the hill.
let us prey.
he expects nothing but trouble from anyone.
people, fucking people everywhere all the time crazy as bat shit.
or is it him?
the world is as it is perceived.
he can’t turn his head around from it.
it keeps coming from everywhere all the time.
he’s about at the end not know what happens next or what.
we shall see if fortune continues smiling his way or if it turns its back like the rest.
he feels abandoned by everything.
there seems to be nothing good in this world for him.
there is no way out except one.
one gun.
one bullet.
all he needs to destroy the world.
the final solution.
do it before someone else does.
cast out into a wilderness of mind.
images dancing before his eyes.
none are real or not.
how is he to tell?
they give pain and pleasure.
he wants neither.
he just wants to be how it is.
he is not a fan of thrills and spills along the speedway.
he likes to sit and think.
but there’s no room anymore for lazy lay abouts feeling they deserve the good life for nothing.
someone needs to take out the trash.
what if everyone felt that way?
who’d clean the toilets?
but we could be shitting in the woods by now if we would let ourselves be that free.
he scribbles more words he feels are important to get written.
it’s only in his head.
his dead head.
his mind like a deflated balloon.
his spirit lacking.
his soul in troubled turmoil.
these are the days when it’s all happening for better or worse.
we thought they’ll never end.
and  a day is a day like any other different from the last.
we put on meaning for it to wear as the moments are passing toward tomorrows to come.
fat and lazy.
what a thing to be.
and here it is happening to him before his eyes closed unseeing.
nirvana comes in clever disguises.
we never know what it might be.
the pomp and such of the ruling class of humanity on our knees in submission is funny.
what a show of nothing.
but people tune it in expecting more than they’ve ever seen before.
they got it coming – and how, baby.
he is frozen not knowing what to do.
should he move?
should he stay still.
should he not be here at all?

the wheel

how are we able to think about everything when we are beaten down in our own heads from a lifetime of abuse from those who think they know better than the rest how everything ought to be for their own profit and gain?
who has the time to waste?
we do.
but then we are crazy and no one believes us, not that they should but only believe themselves – if they can find themselves.
it’s not an easy task but a lifetime vocation of dedicated effort.
most are not able.
those who are able are mostly unwilling.
then there are those few and far between of us who are able and willing who endure our way through it to understanding.

everything – imagine that in a hat.
what more could we ever desire more?
but there’s always more of everything.
that is its nature.
our heads up in clouds of enlightened confusion.
our heads up our ass.
same difference.

we are useless to the others who pride themselves in their mastery of worldly things.
we are buffoons compared with them on their terms as they are buffoons to us compared on our terms.
who is right and who is wrong?
why must it be either or?
but they have the power to decide which and enforce their decisions on us.
we have the power to refuse and resist and rise above.
could it be we are the wheat and they the chaff?

we have been reviled by them since the beginning.
cursed as being mad and witches and demons and worse.
we have been cast out and tortured and executed by the millions throughout their history.
would it be wrong of us to seek revenge?
we certainly do not offer them forgiveness.

but we have no time for that.
everything calls to us to come and play.

there must be an easier way…

the ease of manipulation of the masses through their desire and fear they have not troubled to overcome to free themselves.
shake it up, baby.
shake it all around the place.
shake it till it all falls down.

and he lives in desire and fear.
a nervous wreck being pulled one way and the other.
nothing he’s got he really needs.
21st century schizoid man.

he lights another cigarette.
he farts.
he thinks about everything.
at times he thinks about nothing.
same difference.

the abused sick starving neglected impoverished children of all ages in the world.
but who is not one of them?
who is not suffering?
somebody should do something about that.

and all the negative shit that’s been building up into this darkening future.
everything and everyone sacrificed to the glory of the great god greed.
the lies that are told to us by our fellow humans who feel themselves to be above us they consider the great unwashed.
we will never forget.
but we have little choice but to play the game they control or die.
killing ourselves to live.
but where do the children play?

the comedy of errors of life.
there is little logic or reason to it.
the absurd rules all.
our futile dreams that turn to dust and ashes in our hands.
our minds in turmoils of thought.
and we wonder, why? why? why?
there is no why.
get over it.
deal with it.

it works for us as well as against us.
why do we believe everything should be in order and make sense?
when did that become a rule?
they have convinced us this is the way as it gives them the power to control.
they dismiss anything contrary.
we must take control of ourselves to be free or else they easily get us to chase our tails in our own confusion.

focus.
concentrate.
think it out for yourself.
not everything is as it appears or we have been told it is.
you gotta break it down – or it will be broken down for you like it or not.
it depends on if you wanna go mad or become enlightened.
we chose to do both.

our madness has set us free to ourselves though many heavy chains may be upon us.
they will eventually wear away once we refuse to believe they bind us.
and we are abandoned to our freedom.
to the others we are free to die.
they have no compassion or regrets to their actions.
they believe their gods protect them.

we move beyond all this in our wayward ways.
we seem lost but we have found our senses at last.
why should we be concerned with anything else?
this world is false.
it is silly and absurd to seek truth here.
who or what should be trusted at this point?
but this does not dissuade many from making these mistakes.
live and learn.

coffee.
a toke.
another cigarette.
life is good, baby.
but don’t get carried away.

to continue…

chaos with order.
why chaos vs order?
why not a dance instead of a struggle?
why not love instead of hate?
it’s not how things are but how we perceive them to be placing meaning on them.
but opposition does exist in reality if everything includes everything which we are assuming it does.
why wouldn’t it?
but complementary opposites also exist.
we choose which between them to make believe is true and real.
everything that is was will be possible.
everything as infinity.
everything as finite – the spacetime universe.
and the world in the center of it where when here now he imagines himself sitting before the computer writing a poem that is no more a poem than him a poet about our theory of everything in a confusion of thought attaining realization and understanding without really knowing a damn thing for certain.
all the stories we know of about everything don’t quite add up completely of gods and big bangs and giant turtles, etc.
so we make up our own since that’s all anyone else seems to have done for themselves then believing it’s truth.
everyone claiming truth is a major problem to our being able to fit everything together with itself – if that is possible.
there is no compromise with truth.
truth does not bend or change in any way.
truth is chiseled in stone.
yet stone cracks and crumbles into infinite infinitesimality toward oblivion with everything else.
what is eternal truth but change itself?
change is the other side of this life – the side kept in the dark by rationalogic becuz it doesn’t fit into their theories but mystics have known all along what science is now beginning to realize and understand.
when every common ordinary everyday person in the street is allowed to think and imagine for themselves – what joyful chaos that will be.
when philosophy is no longer philosophy but a way of living life all may enjoy to their heart’s content.
he thought as a naïve child that this was the way the world is.
he found out differently when he tried living in that world.
he was told he is crazy – some sort of thinking disorder.
but he also figured out that that was their reality not his own.
their reality that needs absolute adherence to its truth.
he could swim through his reality flying in midair.
he needed to convince no one of truth.
he knew his reality was not truth but fantasy.
he didn’t care.
he believed anyway.
why not?
he dreams his reality and wears it around him to keep himself warm and safe in a cold cruel world.
it has served him well so far.
he has lottsa extra time beyond what he needs to do in their reality which is the dominant reality to think about everything.
he writes as he thinks.
he thinks as he writes.
he writes from obsessive compulsion.
he cannot not write though it seems to communicate with no one but himself which is all it needs to do for his own understanding whether it makes sense to anyone else or not.
he cannot shake the sense of solipsism that shrouds him coloring all his thinking about everything.
is he alone in this?
has he made up people to keep him company in a make believe world?
the delightful terrible excitement and adventure of it.
he feels as if he is waking up as he approaches his supposed death – the death of this mortal coil we are entangled in believing it is real and the end of all things.
we shall see.

estranged paradise

he wakes up to a dark morning prior to the earth turning toward the sun making the sun appear to rise from the horizon which fooled our senses for millions of years till we figured it out what was actually happening.
and how many similar errors are we still making now?
the appearance of finite objects.
the appearance of beginning and end.
the appearance of good and evil.
the appearance of ourselves.
the nonappearance of god.

what everything is and what we believe everything is and is not.
we are the fools every time.
what do we know?

everything is nothing.
nothing is everything.
same difference.
the appearance of everything instead of nothing.
everything is turned on.
nothing is turned off.
the potential becomes the actual.
activation.
vibration.
poking our finger into a still pond where we gaze upon our reflection distorted into a zillion images with the resulting ripples.
the resulting riddles.
we are amused for the moment divided against itself on/off.

he is a person few seem to want to have around.
he is easily ignored by them when he is around.
what is it about himself which makes them so uncomfortable that they keep themselves secret from him?
do they suspect that he knows what they are about?
do they feel his judgment upon them?
what are they doing that he would judge?
it must be something given their reaction to his presence.

and what he does see he does judge and finds most of it wanting.
wanting of empathy and compassion towards others.
wanting of purpose and meaning other than $$$.

and as he judges them he finds that they judge themselves far more harshly and lead lives to punish themselves accordingly.
as he had done.
it’s the human condition sad but true.

to reach a world where we might rise above all that freeing ourselves of its nature and nurture karma.
when desire and fear are no longer allowed to rule over us but heel to our command.
a world that is this world transformed.
ourselves to ourselves transformed.

this is what he dreams and has been dreaming since he first became conscious of being here in this heavily manifest world where everything is work to be done.
he didn’t like it one bit.
his imagination was his only escape from this world and the others bent on making him face the reality of his oppression as they had done.
never.

he was bent on being free.
but there was a sacrifice – himself.
he was told he had potential, that he could become successful in life if he only applied himself to the task.
fuck that shit.
he was bent on doing as little as he possibly get away with.
they’re so smart, they can do everything themselves as they wish.
he wanted no part of it.
what they were doing he felt is entirely useless and worthless.
most of it creating work for the sake of work – keep the masses busy and outta causing making trouble.
he refused.
he resisted.
he was punished until he had to give in and compromise a little.
he agreed to work enough to provide himself with a simple life he found the most satisfying.
he found some grunt job and they left him alone for the most part except with their continued expectations that he should contribute more.
fuck them.

and so on.