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i am i because my little dog knows me - gertrude stein.

Friday, December 22, 2017

part 108 -

the clown continuing typing not p0em cuz he ain't no poet which is the thing of it. it is it, unless it is not it. that happens at odd times it seems. how does one tell the difference? it's not something you can look up in a book or journal or magazine or some such. a shrieking scream comes from the attic as one comes to realize that it being it or it being not it is inconsequential for most purposes.
it all has to do with property and who owns what and if you can't defend it then it becomes someone else's property. war is either the failure or the success of capitalism.
for now we'll skip that question and come back to it later if there's time and if we remember.
a toke and a cigarette.
so all that goes.
police shooting to kill everyone and everything.
interesting. the pigs are in control, no one can oppose them. they have the might and the will and the $$$. we are all scattered leaves in the wind. better to be us than them. who wants to be a pig?
we fit into nooks and crannies. we can be difficult to find, especially if one does not know what one is looking for - or at.
we are in undisclosed locations around about. some clearly in the open. who are we? what do we want? good questions. will we ever know any answers?
people living in dreams of being in heaven or hell without having the sense to know one from the other and realizing they are surrounded by both. it's a choice they make, often in ignorance of what's the deal.
what's the deal is that if we find and maintain a center in our minds we can perceive that everything is the same similar vibrations everywhere everywhen to and from everything and everything else. we lose sight of the karmic wheels turning on/off off/on that create what appears to be reality and might very well be reality of sorts and then some magick besides. one never knows what the fuck anything might be until we decide for ourselves and believe in it as truth absolute and everlasting.
truth is waves on a beach ever changing yet always the same throughout the universe as much as we know about which may be a small sliver of how much we can detect of the boundless whole of it reaching toward infinity.
everything being particle-waveforms or some such thing. it's whatever we find and imagine it to be.
everything is metaphors of something it is like but something that it is not. a whim of gods abundant.
and something beneath the surface of what we are able to perceive even with our enhancing devices delving in toward the unknown infinitesimal regions of spacetime, if it even is spacetime anymore at that point. and so on it goes here in the middle of everything, the exact center being our mind's eye according to our theory of everything.
as she is led to be beheaded for murdering her husband with a kitchen knife slitting his throat in his sleep, her last words are a call to women everywhere who could hear to follow her footsteps.
the time has come for the great slaughter of humanity by humanity on every street in every town until the losers are all dead and the victors are exhausted but content as cattle believing they are wolves - haha.
it makes no difference. what's done is done. we are satisfied with the results. the machinery of the project continues toward its object monitoring free speech thoughtcrime along the way as the robots have taken over this task as we had expected.
the clown has become tired. he will sleep now.

awakening to a same different world. he looks around trying to notice how it may have shifted this time. it always seems to. he no longer wonders what it might mean but keeps the possibilities open for now and then again as usual as previously stated in not poem and elsewhere where the clown babbles his mind out. it's a true and fine art. the deception of not p0etry.
pet the kitty. that's the way it goes here now, the only place and time existing anywhere anytime we might go. imagine that under your hat, eh?
but this has been discussed before as well. so has everything it might seem in a dream of dreaming about falling outta bed but not really compared to this stubborn reality we find ourselves in that many seek escape which we wish them bon voyage and don't come back. they are more trouble than they are worth - but then, so are we. so is all humanity.
coffee and ginger snaps, a toke, a cigarette.917 and it's medication time.
everything explained in terms of $$$ - how much it will take, how much it will make. the project is expensive. no one knows exactly what it is though they work at it all the time at work and play. ribbons on packages left near the door. who brought them? what do they mean? is this some sorta threat? are they good or evil? etc.
show us what ya got. do it now.
push and shove world with people all trying to get anywhere they can to survive. people unrealizing it's a joke - or is it? dead serious. perceptions by calculations of a rationalogic mind aware of itself doing so.
the irrationalogic mind doth fly far and high from ±0. the mind shift/ship is ready to go instantly and forever. a blithering idiot knows not but suspects everything and everyone.
being a soul perhaps everlasting is funny. eggplant. it is a moth to a flame blowing in the wind. but what do we know? perhaps more than one might suspect, even ourselves. public pool danger zone. where is our faith now?
the clown imagines about all what god must be. it's fun to think. dance how you want to. there is no turning around. once you're in, you're in. all of you, off with your heads.
the clown writes not p0em on water. ripples on the surface only fish can understand twinkling in sunlight. the easy time of it. eat smaller fish, get eaten by larger fish.
and we're fortunate ones to come out relatively reasonably intact as it should be but mostly is not for the many suffering in this world run over by our collective greed such that it is.
can we take credit for our gain? yet we are blamed for our loss.
the clown sleeps.
coffee, toke, cigarette, poop - and it's medication time. the day begins with a whimper as an imaginary spaceship hovers nearby. the clown imagines more about what god must be. it doesn't seem to him that it is as it has been described by others. it is more, more than anything else - even itself. it is also less, so much less that it disappears. it disappears being so much more as well. it disappears everywhere everywhen but in the exact center of our mind.
and what does it mean when god disappears? by god disappearing everything appears (and vice versa). don't you "see"? it's so simple and easy, yet can take a lifetime to entirely understand.
the stories of saints manufactured to convince others to believe. all the tricks of the trade employed and more invented. the suckers line up outside the doors waiting for them to open around the world turning toward and away from the sun at the same time bringing their $$$ to pay for the privilege. what?
but that is religion, it is not necessarily god. the 2 do not always go together. this is nothing new. nothing is new. one never knows. everything is nothing is everything...11-5...and here the clown loses his train of thought. it leaves the station without him. he sits on a bench and imagines his way home in a spin.
is everything thoughtcrime now?
penny candy memories. witnessing the world from experience. programmable child sex dolls. aliens are imaginary in our dimensional plane, visiting our minds tuned to certain frequencies that are sometimes difficult to attain and maintain. the 11th dimension is a trip to behold. watch out. don't hit your heads on anything.

ot dog.
Ω‽ 222 x |the unblemished go to the gods. the most blemished go to the poor. whack a quack. we have seen so many wonders while being alone to ourselves with no one else around to confirm or deny what could be make believe stories.
something amuck among us we imagine sitting on a beach which is quite imaginary to discuss strange absurd ideas about what the fuck whatever we want from what comes to mind this late in the day watching the grass grow while contemplating our navels and such as we have been told but never been given an explanation and so on it goes. pet the kitty. however, many amazing experiences we are having along the ways and means of pathless paths toward whatever infinity is the furthest we will never reach but always pursuing our happiness never ending in a moment now here.
cosmic darling too good to be true all for you and your customized desires. black sun in the sky out in space and time forever until it is no more. what can be no more? how is this done? no creation nor destruction of elementary stuff. everything continues and changing from one form to another. when everything turns to fire and the fire goes out. heat is banished from existence. heat is not a thing but a state of things - motion. motion eventually stops cold, supposedly. everything would disappear without being destroyed according to our theory of everything. what do we know?
a roller coaster ride through a haunted funhouse. hear the screams. hear the laughter. it's an experience one will find nowhere else but here now. none of the higher or lower worlds have what we got, baby. that's what the war is all about.
but so far motion has yet to cease. so far it is perpetual, from no beginning to no end.
the perfection of gods so sublime that they feel nothing. they come here for the pleasure and pain, for the joy and sorrow, for the life and death. they come here to be physical. their ethereal existence becomes such a drag.
been there, done that, baby. this is the fucking life.

Sunday, December 17, 2017

part 106 -
fuzzbot 2000. a relic from past ideas about the future. we thought the future'd be fun. we did not realize the future would be a declaration of war as perhaps we should have. immorality sweeps the land. all the crazy shit we do and do not. self-righteous asswipes abundant like a plague on a scorched earth.
think happy thoughts.
think about the defeat of one's enemies. they deserve it. who would think to oppose us with our mighty glory shining forth like a freight train in a dark tunnel? let them rot where they fall. oh boy.
but the clown's particular peculiar state of mind that guides him though the tribulations of humanity gone wrong. he walks a fine line along pathless paths into forever wherever it might lead him. he is faithfully unconcerned about any destination he might come upon though he worries constantly. what a mixed up world to live in. who can decide anything to be right or wrong?
the clown knows he is wrong. he's reminded every day. god speaks to him and shows him the chances he has missed out on. but there is will and a way. he laughs at himself at the fix he's in. he laughs cuz there is always a way out if we try to imagine. he'll sleep on it.
awakening to coffee, toke, cigarette. and it's medication time. and he has a fat black cat he may be allergic to as it turns out. but he has no fear.
the gods smile down on him from their perches in paradise lazily enjoying eternity in a moment here now. he is not concerned with details. he perhaps has general understanding of how and why. it's good enough for him who doesn't expect much more than that, though there probably will be of some intent or another.
this lower world where we fight about that which makes us $$$ and everybody wants it all it seems. too bad for the losers. who cares about them who is at all important? voices cry out in the wilderness. it's all vanity.
it's cold and windy as the clown eats a hot dog and gazes out the window at all he might see from here now. so much space and time appearing in divergent forms all over the place fitting together for good and/or evil consequences as we shall see.
is it us who decide? yes and no. it's been the same for ages yet is malleable to our slightest will to change as we have witnessed with our perceptions. or not.
it need not be exactly like that. and life and death is nothing. a brief burning flag beneath the moon. a wink in the dark. how lonely it is, however. a solipsistic loneliness endured by one and one alone in all eternity. perhaps ultimately unable to die. rooted in hell, reaching for heaven. existence consciousness bliss. always striving for an unattainable goal. the object of the project is the project.
pet the kitty.
what's left to figure out about the puzzle of the world? there is so much the clown knows not, but if he wanted to know he could find out easily enough. he understands enough to his satisfaction that he is still learning all the time anyway. thoughts come from the æther realms of psychotic transmissions. you must be insane to receive them. voices in his heads. a legion of angels and demons just by chance forever guiding him by strange light.
what is this?
to interpret what is written as not p0em as coming to nothing is misleading. it always comes to gazorbnik if nothing else. the meaning may be unclear or meaningless but everything shines on through it such that we perceive it anew to experience within without for ourselves all we cannot relate through this language still rooted in prehistoric stone age grunting sounds.
zombie patrol. kill 'em all, baby. the useless and the dead. parasites to our living flesh. what a world this has become. cut off to fend for ourselves or die. as god's will is done.
and this is not p0em which we need not be concerned with literal truth but metaphoric truth. dig?
literal truth is a foundation upon which metaphoric truth rises above like a fly crawling on a window.
the nihilist stark dark truth. the positivist truth of bright light. or something like that. it's all how one might expect it as one perceives it and experiences it. which comes first? what?
we each go into it with our own state of mind and being leading the way creating order out of chaos recognizing patterns and objects and such. is it as simple and easy as that? people who claim to know will give us different answers. how do we divide them apart when we ourselves know nothing?
people against police. poor against rich. everyone against one another. and a merrie time is had by all.
no way to find compromise with all this anger and hate on the streets. no one will give in. shouting and not listening. it's just a riot and will keep happening more and more as days decline toward total breakdown as we have seen before in ages past.
for the clown it's just another day observing the chaos around him awakening with coffee, toke, and cigarette, wondering what's to come and knowing and uncaring. he is old and in the way. he has become useless more so than he's ever been. he has achieved his goal.
it's medication time.
the clown is cold. he puts on a sweater. getting more coffee and a bagel with cream cheese and blackberry jam while wondering about maybe sleeping again and about the nature of impossible things and people suffering. is it becuz of their karma? is there balance to all things?
and he sleeps as is his wont.
awakening once more today. more coffee and toke and cigarette. complicated horseshit in his head going buzzing around the place. cast not pearls before swine. let them wallow in their ignorant stupidity. give them nothing. they deserve their fate. do not bother and waste time on those who are here in this world just to die.
oh well.
but remember it is it like nothing else is it for those who understand what it is. it is simple. overlooked. forgotten.
drink it down till it fills us up overflowing. too much is not enough. repeat as necessary. there are some who get it at once. for others it takes lifetimes of struggle to begin to realize there is anything that is it to get. 222
let everything be so as it is. let us change our minds to come to understanding. sweet, baby. it takes all kinds as many have forgotten in the race to nowhere they happily embark on to be the greatest above the rest. and then they die like anyone else.
to live the life yet welcome death. rest in peace everlasting. do we know what we really want? perhaps it is nothing more than food, clothing, shelter. we doubt that anyone else might be so amused to want merely that and that alone. but that is not necessary to get it.
we kinda assume nearly everything is in a state of standing still as it actually is traveling toward the velocity of light. this can be seen if we know what to look for. but we are looking another way. oh well.
but this comes to the clown as a vision all of which have usually proven to be true enough to fit into our theory of everything the clown types on and on as not p0em. simple.
the universe instantly at once connected by light unbeginning unending here now. laugh at the absurdity of it. yes.
the universe as unraveling ball of yard. the clown doesn't think much of a multiverse perhaps cuz it leads to an infinite series of russian dolls. or not. we shall see.
repeating everything forever. our memory and reality becoming mismatched from each other as odd as that might seem to some who do not notice. but the clown likes to believe anything being true that may not be true cuz it's unrationalogical [sic]. (unrationalogic is not always necessarily irrationalogic). don't worry, everything is hunky dory fine and dandy ok.
tickling fancy doodle-doos of his brain dancing on the edge of being insane, while eating oreos & drinking cold coffee. exquisite avenues of thinking to meander along through though danger lurks everywhere if we are not careful but become clumsy in our sleep. it is nothing.
patterns - when all one sees is patterns. the trips are over. clear your heads. pet the kitty. wait awhile of years before beginning it again. don't forget.
someone something always wanting to know his location. here now. 0,0,0 00:00:00
we're still not clear about what's up with us. who are we? what are we doing? spinning the wheels turning greater and lesser wheels more or less rapidly in spheres of space and time, etc.

so there.

Friday, December 15, 2017

part 105 -bzzzat

is there anything more exciting than an idea of a god?
the clown wonders about it while typing not p0em in the night kept out with a light bulb.
mass produced people machines. mashed potato brains. the clown also wonders about when the pizza delivery might show up to be an impossible dream scheme perpetrating upon the masses unaware anything is differently arranged from before now which is the only time that exists according to our theory of everything most of which has been proven wrong by rationalogic thought that we try to ignore if we can but are not always successful. dig.
understanding about 2+2=cow in forced slave labor camps residing along the seaside waves rolling in and washing out we find relaxing to our moods in sync with the tides in balance with our dear sister moon not too many other people notice for themselves nowadays of this ultra-modern life disconnected from the earth as it is.
we have forgotten. everything is happy all the time. we fill ourselves from the fountain of love (soma). we sing and dance. we fall down. we laugh. this is now required at least 6 times a day. everyone obedient to the cause.
the clown wonders about things like this that he might imagine being possible if not inevitable. we grumble and complain at first but fall in line soon after. it's easier that way. it's the life of the party. it's a dreamtime thing.

yes, all things are possible. 4:20. but who wants to take the chance? we are secure in doubt at times and unable to move from our fixed positions. but that might be the wisest choice for us to make as it may turn out. action through inaction. not everything needs to move. but push it hard enough and it will fall over.
more coffee, another toke, another cigarette.
pet the kitty.
the routines of living life as we know it. not everything needs to be fun and exciting depending on what does it for you. weird is life. we should know this by now but some do not
everybody's got a solution - eliminate everyone else. won't we have a merrie funtime then? each of us killing each of us until everybody's had enough. amok.
the clown has little interest in this world anymore, not that he had much to begin with. the world has always seemed hostile. it's heavy and useless with impotent self-importance that in the end we come to realize it is a joke played on itself without understanding. :sSsSsSsSsSsS:
it's delicious. is it pie? is it pie in the sky? is it pie in our eye? what is it?
the earth is a different story. it is a garden still after being raped and pillaged for $$$.
yay, earth.
boo, world.
but they are killing us off anyway. we won't survive here very much longer. oh well. it was fun while it lasted - sorta. uh-huh.
that's alright, we're used to being ignored. what do we do but laugh at everyone? that cannot be allowed to happen with people taking themselves very very serious and shit. it's a real drag to have to endure their worship of themselves broadcast through all media while the masses eat it up not being able to get enough as if any of it will save them.
we do not need to be saved. we have saved ourselves for the time being what it is. DOA. - haha. look at us now.
how many points on a line long or short no one can say except it could be infinite. yet how many points in infinity? infinity x infinity? it quickly becomes meaningless from there. why are we even thinking about it. cuz it turns us on.
the universe could be just a point in some other larger dimension - or smaller for that matter. how do dimensions work? what are they? do they even exist? what do they look like? etc.
6666 - haha. how is it all done until it becomes incomprehensible? we have to become incomprehensible. but many think in linear thought not round about twist and shout. big earring and jazz on a summer hot street when everyone feels sleepy but can't get to sleep. going beyond where beyond was before. imagine that.
meanwhile down at the liquor store the clown passing by like having another dream, or x-ray vision?
this is perhaps a beginning but of course it is every moment repeating never repeating ever again so it does begin here now, eh?
information. there are echoes in here now. everything contained within but we will never have the chance to find out cuz it keeps going and going. the project must continue until there is no use for it anymore. the dream is always and then some whatever.

and then everything explodes to itself becoming like crazy guitar feedback from a distant lost age from now. let's forget, shall we? it's easy once you know how what you're doing. the doors fly open all at once, baby. let's run run run to get home away from home.
who's crying now? those who thought they were at the top of it, but now the world's turned around a bit sideways just for a joke on them. it could be.
libertarian justice on a stick it up your ass while anarky screams for attention and everyone else is ignored. the secrets are out. they've been used to keep us down. it's useful to be polite. please and thank you. no excuse is necessary.
are there some still looking for instruction? go away. no one can teach you, you can only learn - from anything anywhere at any time. energy. wet attack. funny whistle and break a leg. we will find it anew. is it romance? fuck you.
now the noise begins as it ever was and will be. the clown is tired, ready for sleep anytime. it's the mind control radiations thing. the reports are still coming in. we'll see how dangerous this actually might be to leave us out in the cold.

are we still on? are we off? off we go, baby. outer space calls to us. we must follow if and when we can.
hijack the starship. a long ago dream no longer true as it once could have been. if we could have been. but dreams are meant to be broken, yes?
this is what we are told by the unimaginative folks doing their duty. we have failed them. we could not muster the faith enough, or as much doubt either. it's not what's true or false but what we believe.
and then suddenly...

Friday, December 8, 2017

part 102 -

there are these those of us who believe they are wise guys awakened and enlightened feeling the need to tell everyone about being so. we have our doubts as we steal what we need from them to suit our own fancy. we make believe which as much as we can determine is how it's done of ages past until now. everything might be real, or might not. we cannot prove it beyond our personal experience. we sift through the sands on a beach of an island in the eye of a storm blah blah blah - haha.
we ain't going nowhere, but we are arriving at our continuing destinations we have in mind as always but still unknowing (there are secrets here). the distraction of the end of the world at any moment. but a galactic sea of worlds abounds with pleasures and pains of living consciousness overflowing like a clogged up bathtub spilling down a flight of stairs to the foyer where the guests are arriving without being told what to do. it's too soon. it's medication time.
in a silence of being alone the clown always marvels at the sound of a pin dropping. he ponders the inner meaning of eating spaghetti. anti-sex meetings. discussion of events pertaining to the regurgitation of thought on command for getting outta the blue. the reactions are predictable coming from the collective media mind machine we've been trained by.
culture in the gutter before we know it and it's too late for us to apologize to anyone without knowing who is to blame.
oh yeah, the helpless children sold into the sex trade to meet the worldwide demand. everything in this post-postmodern world declining toward no future. the golden age is gone if it ever was. there were always hidden shadows to it. the pompous and the proud citizens of the body politic now laid waste to devilish greed and distraction. this is the victory they have achieved in our name.
the clown is tired still but is not concerned. it's always time for a nap. everything is done that can be done. we are still alive, more or less. the tortures endured around the world. no different from yesterday. who is proud of this fact but the victors waiting for their glory? are they not pleased with themselves?
yes, indeed.
a war where there are no crimes but only death and destruction. must it come to this? the wars of alpha-apes still among us. damn.
the black market demand for goods and services someone will always fulfill. there is no end to it.
everything is counted with $$$. it's funny to think about it in your humorless world. you will never get the joke. we get it, cuz we are the joke [cue laughter].
someone's gotta carry the flag, eh?
what's in the bag, baby?
is this too simple? it needs to be simple for it to be more understood by the many. we're not as dumb as we may appear - we're dumber, if that's possible.
so that goes.
odd occurrences drifting in from the sea. the sea is humanity. naked flesh seething to be alive. the spontaneous synchronistic eruptions of fate and fortune too soon to forget. (±0) the steady state of whatever "encompasses" the penetrating pulsating throbbing universe to explode again and again all over itself.
mars in question. can we get there from here? why would we want to? mars is a terrible world of its own destructive nature laid waste to everything, perhaps to life itself. now it waits for us. it waits for us to bring it $$$.
making $$$ on the supply supplying the demand. humans wanted for secret experiments. no explanation required. the masters of outer space. go, baby, go. dance the crazy dance for all you're worth, which isn't worth a penny to anyone important. now get with it. be cool. don't be afraid to be a fool in school. gazorbnik?
and people worrying about how they might appear in heaven.
conflict with or without weapons when a lampshade can be a weapon. not a weapon of choice perhaps, but a weapon of need and good fortune to have at the time. for the clown the lazy life is the life for him which he pretty much got away with and then he'll die. then he'll fly away diving up into the dark, avoiding the light. deeper in toward its heart.
my body is a temple, ancient and crumbling, probably cursed, harboring an unspeakable horror - guru jeff.
the clown doesn't know what to make of himself. it becomes quite confusing but exciting what he might choose at any given moment keeping in mind there is only one (1) moment everlasting from no beginning toward no end, of course.
the body, a vehicle to putter through this world in, otherwise we'd just float away on a breeze as we please, back from a mind in a dream to the mind of the dreamer.
so it goes.
know thyself - perhaps a lifetime of study to uncover with just random thoughts that come to him the clown continues typing not p0em gazing out the window with mind's eye that sees everything of what he might wish to imagine being or not.
the fuckers don't realize the game they are playing that no one wins, not them either. but they serve the alien overlords to do their bidding, no questions asked. it's the only way it makes sense - or not.
and they created religions around it. religions at war against one another, all promising peace and prosperity in an afterlife. it's a sad and pitiful planet - a galactic insane asylum? the only way to leave is to gain the ability to escape - to remember what we have forgotten.
the time goes by but it is always now as it was now in the past and will be now in the future. simple. only fools are fascinated by this, as many would tell us so.
ineffabled outta his mind the clown climbs the walls to above where there is just and only sky.
and they also discovered there is great wealth and power in religion. that makes it more holy. holier than thou (everyone else). follow the $$$, to who does it flow? who does it belong to? we all know.
it's a silly thing for the clown typing not p0em - a journal of his ignorance. and social darwinists dance a merrie dance on the roof tops celebrating their success as they knew it would be. populations grow and populations decline. populations mix and match in unpredictable design. let's work together but we never will with the hate that springs up among us as various groups claim superiority over others.
this according to the master plan, devised by a man named stan. but no one seems to know who he is or where he's at. he doesn't wear a hat. imagine that. he just swings a bat and knocks people flat. this seems to be the way it goes. we should know by now.
the purpose of our mission is to be sure the project is going ok in every way as is expected and more so. the object of the project is the project, as some might remember but few understand. the project is a process of always continuing striving to attain the object. any object will do.
quos deus vult perdere prius dementat - guru jeff.
the clown always knew from the beginning that he wasn't up to it. he didn't even try. he gave up and took what he could get which was enough to get by. he didn't really care. he had other ideas going on to think about, like about the steady progress of his madness.
so there.
pet the kitty.

Thursday, December 7, 2017

part 101/???

an ugly music boring into his brain boom boom boom. is this about love? crying all the time being so tough. welcome home.
but love love love love love radiating from our hearts and minds, and all that glittering propaganda flibber flabber.
everyone needs to be free.
everybody is awesome in their own particular way if we get to know them, but not always.
we know not.
they tell us we are chasing after nothing (±0). but don't we decide what is nothing to us and what is not? until the CIA gets involved. who knows what they could be up to? maybe even they do not know despite with all their nazi/zionist illuminati $$$-making secret schemes perpetrated on the rest of us many without knowing and bragging about how they are free.
free free free as can be be be anyone can see with eye fixed right by love that we feel even with no love received by us to ourselves. phony ass shit going down around here, baby, but who can tell the difference?
peace aum peace chanting for the grumbling masses trampled underfoot by machines they do not seem to understand.
magick action figures at the ready. let's hope they work. do we have that much faith? what does it take? 2 spoons in the morning, one (1) at night.
and this does not include coming to understanding via our gazorbnik the one gift the clown has for humanity that is rejected by now and again like so much heavenly dog shit. what else might we expect from those not in the know?
those rejected at the gate who cannot get themselves through to the other side where the grass is definitely greener as it appears to our watchful eye gazing for enemies of the state. they are everywhere. they could be anyone. look out.
we expect an explosion in our minds but it rarely happens that way but the same old thing day after day until one realizes this is it as it has always appeared to us before. it's a potential garden if one looks for it where it might be found.
a tiny flashing white light appears and disappears. the war over the minds of the people on the street walking by eye on phones listening to the latest be-bop thing going on and all that.
your same basic end of the world scenarios coming true all around us with war toward peace, hate toward love, ignorance toward understanding. what a way to go. to be opposite, at peace with peace, in love with love, understanding with understanding making us the enemy. huh? that is what we are told broadcast in the media day after day to those watching around us. their loud lies, and our quiet truth, and our bad breath and drooping eye. all with splendid array of festive colors not meaningful in the faraway zones where obedience still reigns all buttery and delicious dripping on your chin.
everything done for the sake of love which many do not believe and/or do not want to happen. they have their own power schemes to themselves. we sit around and drink vodka eating black licorice and watching porn. we drift asleep sleeping dreaming collapsing into singularities buzzing like flies.

have we lied? of course we have are being lied to ourselves for all we know about fancy spy networks going on every sector level with constant frustrations of the abused sick starving neglected peoples at large heretofore mentioned before after some ruckus in the operations room we have never discovered what it is that has intrigued us this whole while of our lives. yahoo.
]_[* the current dilemmas progressively hurtful to our own self-interests as if we have any with us being ego-free individual units in peace and love as we are with near perfect understanding sabine consciousness machines. choke on it.
extravagant reflexes to the bottom of the sea where we escape doldrums of inescapable thinking how much $$$ we got now, bitch.
we wander pathless paths through an abandoned wilderness where we should not watch tv nor listen to the radio under a waxing 1/2 moon rising. this is an emergency. someone shooting your fucking face off if you're lucky. mutilated and roasted alive like a common pig. that's what they must want us to be afraid of about. we can't get enough of it. rosy ducky land we cannot seem to get out of no matter what forbidden magick spell we use for our vile purposes against the current 93 regime. what?
when we rise to power, who among us is eliminated? there is always a sacrifice, don't you know? stay classy. stay on course. be who you really are; beauty queen scorched earth. feel blessed that you are not among those who do not understand - do not understand - do not understand...|| |||LOVE

everybody's a killer. everybody's dead. this is how the world ends? full scale mondo riot going on. grab the food. grab the guns. grab the drugs. grab the tvs. a wonderful time to be alive. let's go. there's no time to be late.
terrific. how humble can you go, baby. go get that humble stick out. lay it on the ground. let's see how humble you get around. cue the laugh track. it's a joke, don't you see? a joke few understand who engage in whatnot with full seriousness afloat to kill without flinching to eat.
slow down. what's to understand? the clown walks about the house trailing oxygen hose to go have more coffee, a toke, a cigarette. another day is here. it's medication time.
does 1 conceptually preexist itself? who else troubles themselves with these bothersome thoughts? but it's no trouble at all. the devil made him do it. a devil demon calling itself gazorbnik. hahaha. depart hence. but demons know only mischief, marching through the gates of heaven and hell to that reality. how much could be true or not? school bus blues.
the "central" aspect of everything is ±0 in and outta existence. find that within where the eye spies. we have given up on most anything else it would appear. concealed weapons funtime jamboree. the proper attitude. donut head.
another cigarette.

chanting the name of jah for all it's worth undertaking the 5th orb thing around about the place of palaces bitter and decaying false religions to the truth of our own if we had any, but do we? what is our god now? what name should we call it? no need to get hung up about it at the expense of enjoying life which many do not seem to be able to do for whatever reasons or not.
the drugged up parakeet staggering in its cage much like we do without realizing. we live the life ever so strange to us searching for anything that might seem familiar from home we cannot remember.
the faith of the masses is encouraged (demanded?) as long as they do not disturb the peace if any can be found.
perhaps this is a bad idea?

Friday, December 1, 2017

part 98 -

interesting what our fate has allowed us among these awfully suspicious peoples around about everywhere all the time as the discarded children smear their feces on the walls of the institutionalized grid thing.
something's not quite right.
free to be whatever we wanna be.
reasonably responsible teeth beneath the squirrel cages chewing away at back of his head the clown typing not p0em sighs, then chuckles. he cannot make up his mind like others seem to be able to. this creates problems for them to understand what the fuck as well as himself getting wrapped in cycles and cycles and cycles turning throughout the universe that he knows of by observation and imagination and obliteration correct us if we're wrong in so many ways it's not funny but we are laughing just the same as it ever was in this declining golden age sitting in our inclining sofa chairs drinking candy on the rocks of our acquired misfortune dreaming faithless dreams let the buyer beware.
rote repetitive education for rote repetitive lives dreaming feeding an owl to a fox we wander alone without much to guide us but what's on the psychic airwaves this dawning of an age to come when all old scores are settled peacefully without undue harm for anyone with a good excuse for actions committed in their sleep. we are all sleeping, aren't we? except those claiming to be awake and superior to the rest of the sheep who are easily and happily led astray if need be for their own good which they know not.
but all this thought about what ought to be but is not that is entangled around itself in our heads and around the world with 100s or 1000s who are in on it sworn to secrecy as is supposed by many who tell us they are in the know. maybe they are. guess again.
and when the revolution does come we'll have some fun killing everyone who's not on our side.
what revolution?
the revolution of the sun relatively around the earth.
creepy crawly. let's go watch tv. won't that be adorable? imagine when we run outta food. too good to be true. easy crumcake takes the stage in full glittering drag au go go. international intellectual fraud epidemic when times are a-changing to become the next moment when anyone might happen to turn into a kafkian cockroach or 2 upon awakening in the new light shining forever our spirits are made up of. nietzsche didn't know nothing particularly worth knowing in this age of satellites. we are the glorified ones it may appear at first when we realize we are conscious. yet we are restricted by walls of lies.
the clown tries to save himself, but it's far too late for that trick by now. next time, maybe. meanwhile he continues typing not p0em sitting at a desk before the computer before a window onstage at the burning theater. he has no lines to speak of but is told to sit there thinking and typing for the whole of the ongoing play except to use the toilet, shower, nap, and other such foolishness. golden rain. the party is starting. please take your seats, if you were assigned one. if not, improvise that ragtime thing.
obstinately a one way trip to planet 0, which no one seems to know about where or when it might be located within these hallowed halls of space and time which are nothing more than holograms in a paperweight with an egg balanced on top.
this isn't what it was nor will it ever be ever again. one of the many tricks we got in our bag. we are here against the wishes of command control transmitting negatively emotional energy upon the populace under magnified study. they search for us relentlessly. it becomes more difficult to remain as we are. but the tide could be turning in both directions at once which is in keeping with our theory of everything as explained hither and yon along the way these pathless paths take us toward uncertain paradise.
the clown wants to be a jolly good guy but is too depressed and cranky to pull that off much. but it is on the road toward understanding. enlightenment is a gold star to stick in your book for being a good believer. a book full of stars is worth $9.99 at auction. believe in that.
it's all fake anyway. who cares? do we need to? sez who? the next-door neighbor? the eyes watching us? the clown's skin is peeling. maybe he's a reptilian hybrid. wouldn't that be funny?
another thing that would be funny would be if jupiter fell from the sky and is not much larger than a mustard seed as it floats down to earth.
another thing that would be funny is - nothing.
the earth in the process of birth. we are a baby conceived inside a planetary womb growing using and needing more and more resources until we are born or die possibly taking the mother with us as the womb bursts open and labor and contractions push the baby out into a loving mother's embrace and a new world. or something like that.
how can it be to be really truly free instead of all this cacophony of noise in our brains making us all crazy and shit?
the clown sleeps - again.
these cycles of consciousness through our minds from various reasons and causes within and without. the weather of the day, the chemical balance in our blood, much more. high spirits, low spirits, middling spirits, scary spirits - haha.
as loose as a goose on the loose we go along our own ways and means toward unknown destinations we discover on our journeys. but all those of us who suffer for it through no fault of their own though they are blamed by others for their failings to achieve successful lives at the expense of others without a care. it comes down to this struggle among us who cannot gather ourselves together to resist the oppressive powers set against us. but who are we but no one?
but this is as it should be they tell us. it's the way god wants it. it is our fate and there's no turning back.
the entirety of a singularity to contain all the potential for creation. a troubling seed of doubt in our shoe. it's kryptonistic properties with promises of zombie love. the clown hardly believes it himself.
we do anything for $$$. we'll believe anything anyone tells us is true or not true. the masses are to be held in check. even the birds are not free as they appear to be. everybody and everything caught in social webs of programed behavior and voodoo mojo magick thing - which proves nothing.
people believing there is nothing but goodness and light at the end of it all. people believing there is an end to it all, goodness and light or not. they set themselves up for it. perception is reality.
is it not seeing different realities but seeing this reality in different ways? one or the other or neither or both. all ways to it. all ways from it. we are each different expressions of the same light and darkness contrasting together to compose reality of any kind.
to further complicate the matter we must consider duct tape as binding it all together along with paperclips, rubber bands, and chewing gum. eyes open to the world while hopping on one foot.
the thoughtless thought in what's left of our heads in the plot to overthrow the world as we know it turning it around against us. pet the kitty. coffee toke cigarette. the clown needs to clean the cat box and gather up the rest of the household trash to go out to be collected tomorrow.
the debts we must pay for being born sucked up by the rich fuckers to turn themselves into gold no one learns how to control but it controls them. they are puppets to their own unsatisfied desires and forgotten fears. this we know by now but are powerless to change anything cuz power is the problem. power to the people to be reined in by masterful players of the game. the game is life itself. the people without leaders are nothing.
the clown feels like he cannot continue living in this world much longer. the people around him becoming increasingly oppressed and depressed, going down and not coming up again. oh well. let it be that way. why should he care? he rises above on angel wings from the sea of misery. can it be true? what can we do? we know too much already.

then suddenly it stops for no reason...