gazorbnik

gazorbnik

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

Monday, October 10, 2016

20 -

awakening.
sweating.
coffee, toke, cigarette.
absent.
scary.
and it's medication time.
skating on thin ice, baby.
ya-haha-haha.

interesting times, indeed.
here's to your health, to everyone.
the more the merrier in the maze of mirrors scattering shattering images of the one true god, the same rules apply as always.
dirty rotten pig.
peace, love, and understanding radiating throughout the cosmic skies where few can reach being buried beneath the bodies climbing high.
but is that where it's at?
imagine that.
in a hat.
111
222
333
444
555

a comic tragedy.
a tragic comedy.
it's anybody's guess what meanings it may hold for us individually collectively.
how many happy endings are there?
we could wish them all true if we dare.
extinct bees by the bucketful.
fuck that.
let's think pleasant thoughts, not thoughtcrime.
they're coming to take us away.
out of the game which is still always the same.
we work with puzzle pieces of phrases mixing and matching any which way we please into endless never ever repeating mantras.
another impossibility existing disguised as impossibility.
and a peanut butter sandwich.

a day or so later -
can't think.
don't wanna think.
thinking is for the birds.
cheep cheep cheep - squawk.
an admission of guilt.
don't mean nothing.
nothing don't mean nothing.
it's all the same.
everything is the same everywhere everywhen.
it doesn't take being an idiot to realize that.
even a genius can do it - sorta.
but they often think too much about it.
too much about everything.
too much about nothing.

brazil.
everything must be destroyed.
destruction is creation.
creating a monster perhaps.
nonetheless...

more coffee, another toke and a cigarette.
being in a field of daisies.
a spaceship hovering nearby him sitting before the computer gazing out the window at the post-rain scenery of the park as daylight begins to wane dimly as if it weren't dim all day.
pet the kitty.
he is a weak willed individual knowing next to nothing about anything.
we observe him quietly as his mind continues to turn.
he has to take out the trash.
someone should take himself out with it.
nevermind, that day will come.
it may come for us all.
we are them.
not fit for public consumption.
diamond mind divided among us who are real next to these phony phantoms of existence with their sophistications and pretenses like wisps of smoke as seen on tv.
heaven help us.

he gets up to take a couple of slices of last night's pizza from the fridge.
he savors the taste of this blessed meal.
food of the gods.
he ought to know as he is thinking about how he was kidnapped from neptune by space pirates and left abandoned here now in this lonely world made desolate by the industry of its inhabitants.
logic never fails.
he is rewarded with bazooka for dessert.

he wonders as he has always wondered about people who arrive here and grow up thinking that there should be more of the same.
we need less.
make do with less not more.
unconstruct.
but how will we make $$$?

people with limited imaginations who only see the face of objects of their desire and fear.
don't think twice.
there is no excuse.
the objectivistic bare minimum.
no room for error.
no room for anything but what is reasonably correct.
what a drag.
he lights another cigarette.
suicide.

freak out?
jump outta your pants now.
dance a little dance now.
get down tonight all day long.
listening to this same old song.

ain't nothing happening.
roll another one, just like the other one.
roll that rock around.

itchy crawly nervous.
continuing just the same anyhow.
mutually simultaneous psychic orgasms flashing around the globe interconnecting for a moment.
or something like that.
from tree to tree.
it's medication time.
some things going backward.
eyes playing tricks on us - tricks of the trade.
look out!

political theatre sloganistic phrases ringing in his brain.
ding dong.
slipping the slide.
down and down we go.
the slide is a snake.
kick out the jams.
diamond dogs.
communication breakdown.
answer the question.

room 101.
nothing means anything anymore.
just the fear.
the sphere of consciousness to a pinpoint.
dancing with angels.
we've been had.
\cracked up.
up in the booth.
undecided.
overanalyzing.
sloppy overkill.
mr. and mrs. fancy pants.
bubble bath.
and he sleeps.

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