gazorbnik

gazorbnik

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

Thursday, July 27, 2017

part 55 (1)
the clown does not believe; though not necessarily not|\. it comes and goes along with the whole universe which may or may not be real. now they are trying to tell us it's a [holo]gram. nice try, "assholes". we've been there and done that.
the clown believes bits-and-pieces of things gathered into some sorta hodgepodge montage of abstract perceptions [sic] and meanings dreaming themselves. twist and shout around about... but it's nothing like that at aLl.
it's like believing in a god (x) without a god (x) to believe in. transcending all realities inside the blue bus. back in the shadows behind the spotlights pointed at those needing attention. the crowds cheer. hail victory. are we not saved?
there's either a large fly or a small bee buzzing around against the window.
this becomes old time after time. the clown doesn't know what else to do. submerge into the depths of the sea? the sea is humanity. eat it. bite into it and tear it apart. suck on it. peach.
now everything is easy as it should be. we have reached the common ground where we can all stand tall. no one is ashamed to be who they are. why should they be?
there are those who will cut us down and out but more of us appear every day in every way the wind blows. everyone knows except those who think they know better.
crumbling octopus dancing with fleas as we please to amuse ourselves. the circus is dead. get that into your head.
the end has come at last. for some it has come too fast. some have been waiting for too long singing that same old song.
fuck it.
and it's medication time!
the clown blows his nose in gleeful excitement. everybody dance. everybody run run run away // though there is nowhere left to run away to anymore like there used to be back when. we're too crowded in each other's face all over the place by the billions. we love to fuck.
but we have better things to do, like staring into the sun, and with that we've only just begun. come on, let's have some fun.
and do we need to think about anything else? think about radio call in talk show. think about rallies in the park. think about the fallen heroes. think about holy shit.
and it's still not enough. what will it take? what do you have in mind? love? hate? indifference?
people's misguided perceptions about us from the other side of a rainbow painted flying thing traveling coast to coast before everything is spoiled to make room for a future of broken dreams, broken hearts, broken heads, broken minds.
people do not possess power but are possessed by power - guru jeff.
they will do whatever power demands. power has its own motives and rationale and will---*. power makes them dance to its tune (enut). and all they can do is suck onto it hoping for nourishment, but all they receive is poison dementing their minds while they serve as slaves. :(
the clown laughs to see them parade around with that dazed look on their faces. they don't seem too happy to him but pathetically lost from themselves.
whatever.
nevermind.
as the clown hesitates typing not p0em a moment or 6 he thinks about how everything isn't always as bad as it might seem - it is better and it is worse. then the clown thinks about a spaceship hovering nearby which is just his and everyone's imagination. spaceships do not exist in our reality. so there.
but who's paying attention? not him that's for sure. he forgets what he is writing as soon as he types it into the computer.
what?
creepy hot dog on blue moldy bun. who can tell what's right or wrong anymore? is there a place for it in the brave new world order? or is it forgotten history?
who cares?
probably not anyone we know about. have we been formally introduced? if not, fuck you.
how it must have been, and still is practiced today to a certain extended extent among those who don't know what it means going through the motions of polite society like they do.
that feeling of being raped. taste in back of mouth. then you remember what you chose to forget.
easy does it, baby.
it takes a zillion years to get out of it, if you want to. if you are able. if you and/or your family have enough $$$.
if these conditions are met then one might be guided to
  a teacher. this is where the $$$ comes in. teachers aren't fucking cheap.
and to have drive and ambition - and faith.
faith enough to convince yourself that you aren't being had.
in a sense you aren't being had. everything is stated upfront and one should know what to expect to a certain degree.
unless it all goes wrong into a shit show.
you can never know.
no reason that should happen but it does often enough.
of course one should ask oneself whether it is a matter of being deceived by others or being deceived by yourself, eh?
is that your final answer?
could you state it as a question, please?
mr. and mrs. john q. smith?
correct.
what's the prize?
eternal damnation.
can i play again?
play as often as you would like.
hell yeah...
and the saga continues through all of space and time without beginning nor end.
a saga of the highborn elite bored outta their lofty skulls for something to do.
why not create a world with creatures in it who we can play with for our amusement?
a splendid idea.
and we appear once in a while in this world to play act as we will as the whim of the momentary mood moves us.
so mote it be, motherfucker.
a random name from a computer in the sky.
and that name is you.
you win/lose as it will be.
get comfortable.
they are coming to your door.
and maybe this is how it goes - or not.
any what way it might go from here.
moonwalking on the moon.
who hasn't been automatically replaced by now?
that quirky sense of nonsense percolating in your brain from up your spine while you relax by the pool.
not for everyone.
not for the clown.
see ya around, charlie.
impersonalize everyone. feel no pain. all till ya go insane. who's to blame? and what if it's you? now what?
get in your wheelchair and roll away from home base.
crisis phone numbers.
all the victims in the worlds>
each world is a different reality. and some people cannot be helped. they refuse. or are not able to navigate the kafkaesque bureaucracy of services that pays good $$$ for people who sit at desks filling out e-forms erasing history and its pesky reminders of our blunders. we make it up as we go along sometimes feeling like motherless children far from home.
confused confusing people with fear induced behavior mechanisms put forth as reality and desire for whatever $$$ can buy following close behind.
the clown having gotten through most of that though not quite as the task is neverending sitting before the computer gazing out the window wondering about what's in his mind a moment or 3 before it wisps away again.
more coffee.
medications.
/\/\/\/\/
tilt.
remembering the games we play along the way trying to be what we are expected to be - a CEO or a bum in the street. both insane for different reasons in different manifestations going nowhere someplace else all over the place.
the pathless paths are everywhere. follow them if you dare or if you please get up off your knees.
on beyond zebra was the clown's epiphany at an early tender age he knew too much telling him to mind his own business and know thyself.zzz||>
and knowing thyself entails understanding everything as much as one might comprehend at any given moment.
it comes and goes down the slippery slope.
but... what determines|_ consciousness? :how do we know? do we know our own? how "does one know" thyself? or is it irrelevant? it is difficult with so much fucking with you with distractions ''' to the main point of self realization; which the clown has attempted but falls asleep inside a slippery dream of living a mortal life before too long that comes to an end to begin which how it maintains itself whatever it might be if anything at all around this spiririririraling route once more.
gazorbnik is the name of our game. by it alone we reach pinnacles of nonsense never before discovered perhaps but what does that_|_matter if or not if?
crazy goose.
how to communicate with grunt consciousness is a trick & 1/2 we contemplate in our ongoing theory of everything celebrating the jubilee at the burning theater fuck you run like hell itself is after ya by the dawn's early light reflecting in the gentle pools of last night's rain.
let's go insane. :\


Wednesday, July 26, 2017

part 54 (9)
blood of the fathers splintering teeth in mouth to depart the scene like nobody's business as we have stated so many times it's absurd which we also have stated to its point of redundancy among us such that people turn away becoming bored with everything including themselves into forgetfulness sublime awakening at last to the vision of the lord most high higher highest above all else that was is will be as sunlight brightly shines in through the window against the blinds and the absent ouija board in cosmic space and time forthcoming for the mass of the masses understanding little of what's happening but that they need to obey quick and easy down at the burning theater not knowing what the lyrics of the songs they sing mean or not without a thought either for or against the rising tide come to wash their castles far away from this reality into infinite skies of amazing wonder.
what a mess this has become with most of us on the run from society and its demands and bio-chips in our hands to track us wherever we might go not like there's any place no more to get away free and clear.
let's have another beer.
let us know when we are liberated from ourselves.
hail victory.
but there is still no one to surrender to.
empty space.
time is monkey.
the clown don't know why or how any of this may or may not be true.
is it true for everyone?
some would tell us that truth is universal or else it's not truth.
we're ok with that.
truth is make believe anyhow - or not.
looking for someone anyone to tell us what's right and what's wrong.
no one seems to care.
we decide on our own until someone with a big stick tells us different.
that's it.
that's what's going on, baby.
ZA
the honesty of dishonesty wherever we go these days like licking tongues of reptile violations seeming to underscore many improbable possibilities much the clown doesn't comprehend but understands.
the clown worries about people how they're doing, how they survive, and shit.
doesn't want nobody to have no harm.
good people, bad people it don't matter.
everybody deserves a chance.
but to those who play the game that others are the enemy.
knock them down, keep them down.
what a way to run a world.
this is the best the gods could do?
ha.
fuck the gods then.
but he sits gazing out the window at a sunny day in the summertime wondering about all that goes on that makes sense in a sideways sort of way.
or does it?
yes/no/maybe.
we shall see.
the wisteria needs pruning and everything needs watering.
he's still too disabled to do any of it.
damn.
heart and lungs.
brain.
he goes to the kitchen to find what's to eat and to do his exercises.
all the good and evil in the world.
hotcha.
all good little children go to hell.
what does anyone else expect?
mercy? forgiveness? salvation?
suckers.
how much $$$ do you have is the only question you should be asking yourself.
the gods love $$$.
we all love $$$.
anyone who tells you different is a liar and/or a fool.
come as you are.
everybody's here now but you.
what's the deal with that?
maybe no deal at all.
maybe just the way events turn out to be.
sadness.
terrible posture.
terrible teeth.
terrible smell.
be all you can be.
more coffee.
gulp.
yum.
tasty beans.
the clown thinks about his friend who is now out on the street along with millions of others.
his friend has dementia.
he doesn't know where he is a lot of the time.
oh boy.
the clown can't think of what to do.
the house is full as it is.
dreamtime follies.
everybody's lost to themselves except of course those who know it all who are lost to some higher ideal of whatever, not like us unenlightened folk who are asleep in our ignorance according to them.
oh well.
pet the kitty.
it's medication time!
hooray for ignorance - ignoring everything everyone everywhere everywhen.
who wants any part of it, what they do?
not us - not the clown.
our little bit of bliss.
but no one believes us.
they're all on the go - more more more faster faster faster.
nothing else matters.
cryptic clock stopping on a dime.
everything composed of clichés.
going to the dentist to have a tooth pulled.
fun.
and he returns minus a tooth.
no big deal but he's never had a tooth pulled before.
he was a dental extraction virgin.
sitting before the computer contemplating the universe which probably does not return the favor but maybe so.
is it all connected consciousness as many would have us believe?
or is it meaningless whatever whatnot as others would try to convince us it is.
or is it something altogether different than we might ever imagine?
and why should he care what?
he doesn't really, just thinking about the possibilities involved proposed by various people around the planet.
many more than he knows, from folk tales to scientific theory and such spinning around around like nobody's business in a whirlwind of imaginary stuff and nonsense - wheee...???
bloody cotton gauze.
drop dead smiles of passers-by.
the clown knows not.
exclamation!
the whole pointlessness of it anymore.
he cannot remember it being any different.
people all excited about it though.
what do they know that he doesn't?
or maybe he knows something they don't, but that's doubtful.
he just never has seen anything about this world that really interests him.
monsters maybe.
sex, drugs, rock and roll.
trees.
gazing dreaming out the window thinking about various shit and stuff.
nothing that makes $$$.
oh well.
poor all his life.
he didn't mind too much.
his imagination took control.
nothing else is worth the time and effort beyond what it takes to survive in a world that admires and rewards success at any cost to others who only get in the way.
and blah blah blah and so forth on until the end of time.



part 53

bamboozled again.
what is it this time around?
liquid head alternate reality.
drunk on thin ice.
global economy dependent on growth.
time is $$$.
the future looms leaning on a street light combing its hair and smiling with secrets.
flavor for one.
diced out, baby.
feeling free as we wanna be up a tree.
relay.
something moving.
something grooving.
all over the world dividing wheat from the chaff, as they like to say alone in the dark to themselves.
there is nothing but what it is.
metaphor is meaning.
god the father.
our theory of everything includes all religious ideals putting them in a blender and giving it all a spin to see what comes out how.
it's alright.
what could go wrong at this point besides everything we might imagine to expect from our implanted cultural indoctrinations and such?
living in the 21st century woods, what's left of it.
everywhere is pretty much crowded as heck.
worship our gods elsewhere - in the parking lot at the mall.
is there anything purely anything in this world?
what has not been polluted somehow?
our temples in ruins.
but why do we think purity?
why do we think pollution?
what concepts are these we hold onto past their time and meaning from the ancient abyss of our language?
deconstructional dissonance of mind over matter.
look what we do in terms of these two words alone.
in purifying we pollute.
nevermind.
this is beyond you.
go back to your games to play shoot 'em up.
the clown had been unaware that there is a rule not to touch the queen.
what?
who are these people?
are they people?
are they truly shape shifting reptilian aliens as many suspect?
or monkeys just like us?
and all the people who worship them.
they will be turned against us before too long.
they will be told we are the enemy.
maybe we are.
they will believe it.
they will act on it.
it's so much easier for them that way to feel it's not themselves but those above who magically control them to do their deeds.
future freedom with robotic police that maintain civil order, or something like that.
faking it.
wishing wishes that never come true.
don't forget to smile.
practical 0-time emptiness.
the clown is down wearing a frown with a crown on his head thinking about being dead?
stupidity knows no bounds.
the worship of space without knowing what space is or not.
the faults of humans, the faults of ourselves.
fundamental to our theory of everything is change.
0 cannot remain 0 forever.
waves and waves of particles when we observe.
everything exists when it is being observed.
all that can be observed is changing.
the static is invisible.
monsters in the closet.
be sure it's not just a mirror.
gullible understanding.
to have your mind be blank.
what's important to remember at this stage may not be identity oof who we are supposed to be.
distinction of this phenomena is no_longer_important to those who know less watching on tv.
succumb to mindless belief shouting in the streets.
justice is prepared for them.
just shoot us now.
but we expect no such mercy.
heart rate low. oxygen ok.
this is all internal individual logic/illogic thing moving and grooving shaking it down and don't mean a thing to a busy bee.
the "enemy" tries to escape disguised as women.
who knows what anymore?
haha.
is there a war on?
when is there not?
is it for us to judge?
no, but we do anyway.
holy holy roly poly.
when the gods come to the stream to drink.
we watch them frolic splashing each other before vanishing back into the vanishing forest back into time itself of ages past.
tick tock.
tock tick.
having explained everything the wise guy sits back down while the other wise guys ponder the calculations and conclusions and wonder if this could be it.
and what if it is it?
what next after they come to realize they know everything there is to be known?
how is anything else possible?
what meaning would anything have if not applicable to the final result?
rest in peace.
departing souls taking away the idea of ourselves, realized or not.
no more body.
no more face.
no more name.
no more mind.
life is depressing.
is there no hope left?
it doesn't seem so to us.
we can always be wrong.
driven by demons into the twilight.
therapy without change is just jerking off.
being honest about oneself as much as one can be and getting shit cuz others don't agree with it.
fuck them?
everything in the world is dying it seems.
perhaps not.
not everything will die.
where there is death there is living.
unless...

Saturday, July 22, 2017

part 51
herky jerky people everywhere. not in control of nothing, most especially themselves. the more it is revealed what idiots we are which is no surprise to anyone not even ourselves. we are written outta the story of the lives of the elitist folk everyone else who are so fascinated by wishing they were one with them but will never be in reality unless maybe they go their own way and forget to care letting it blow through their hair if they would dare.
there is no change despite everything changing all the time. not in the human condition. not in the hierarchical established status quo thing. and the monkey in the middle blamed for all sortsa crimes against humanity. if it changes the whole of it falls down and then who can tell who's better than who?
a fixation of doubt. doubting everything that might happen by. the validity of meaning buried in a landfill.
11:11(?)
why?
why not?
the clown kills a teeny tiny living flying thing... or does he? he doesn't know.
white butterfly fluttering past the window.
the recycling truck is driven up by the person to empty the bins.
this is what you need to do - now, do it.
seriousness.
troubling times in a troubling world. this is what we paid to see. everybody talking about it. real as can be.
but what if it actually is real? what do we do then but die? what is death? no one living knows even with their great books of speculations and all of it. seems it could be very exciting - or not.
living is weird. weird thoughts in our heads. to see the invisible and be certain it is truth. to see the visible and be uncertain it is anything at all.
to see what is revealed to each of us alone in a form we will believe if we can believe anything.
to seek the meaning of what we perceive gazing beyond it into the infinite abyss thing where we might fathom its depths of wonder.
bring it to us.
bring us to it.
this is the shit.
be careful.
be careful with everything.
people wanna feel those good positive vibrations all the time, but they become irritating after a while.
give us a break.
everything isn't so peachy keen all the time.
when everything you know is wrong down to the bottom of your toes. when your mind is dashed on the rocks of madness. come talk to us. otherwise, just keep on walking around the universe one step at a time in an eternity beyond comprehension but that one might understand.
there is so much to understand. pretty things. there are numerous ways to understand each one. how does one understand them all when there really isn't any much reason to - or not to? humbug.
but there are those who claim to have it all covered with their truth. perhaps so. we don't know if or if not about anything in the fortunate state we're in.
13 steps how to become a successful monkey.
but sideways from that we've eaten our cake and have it too. across on the moon chasing the dish and the spoon in june.
pet the kitty.
a slot for this, a slot for that, a slot for the other thing. we fill them as best we can but there's always something wrong. and it must be us, it cannot be them.
so as life goes on the clown continuing not p0em that seems like forever he thinks about food products, pig futures, and such other things he knows little about but by intuitive thought and understanding.
and he naps.
and upon awakening the clown further complains about everything in general that might come across his idle mind spinning the wheels in favor of this being an ordinary fucking day for everyone, for some worse than others - you know how that is, right?
to refuse to acknowledge this world except in terms it forces us to unless we live the ascetic life from beginning to end we may withstand.
but that is not for us for reasons we are beginning to understand of late into the end.
yet silence undermines our efforts at long last.
the project is under budget and ahead of schedule as one may remember/. and that is only part of why it is amazingly fantastic for the opportunity and prosperity of one and all.
what a wonderful world this could be.
damn it all to hell.
the wars to come and go forever is what perhaps needs to be for no real reason why or why not. becuz that is the way we are dreaming it for ourselves. yin yang action/reaction boomerang-a-dang-doo - as we have also stated before this time along with most else we are spewing forth yahoo.
the constant effect of noise on the system to break it down. get rid of noise and we will have perfection. this is only partly true it would seem.
to be perfect it would need t o be absolutely static - every location of spacetime producing at its peak in arrangement and alignment with all other locations. but it's not static, it's constantly changing - duh. but 2+2=cow as we remember from our own indoctrination experimentations. but now it's a refined science of mass master control upon the face of the earth. when do we all agree when there is someone who claims to rule the world? or is this our fancy fantasy? what?
clearly this might not be able to be explained in any meaningful way to anyone. the overlords are distantly amused. this has been forever by now. what a dull world they fight over to possess for themselves. what's all the excitement? more $$$.
on the dividing line between right and wrong and whatever else fits into the equation. the clown sighs. when will it be the end? the end of what? where? when?
confusion comes in waves at night now almost over as he thinks of nobody's business at the jamboree.
until the formation of love for everyone as we dream it might be but see no possibility. the clown poops a mighty poop clogging the toilet he plunges back to working order again. what a morning. then he takes his meds and gets coffee and a toke and a banana.
everything is perfect in its "imperfection". everything has meaning, except gazorbnik which is unique in non-meaning. we perceive what we wish to believe we perceive. the ignorant hand that plays along on stage at the burning theater mesmerizing the given crowd with amusing entertainment of life as is.
11:11
quickly now, run away from what troubles you have haunting your good times bust flat on your face to finish the race in time is $$$. figure it out. it is it. have no doubt.
the same ritual routines people follow cuz no one told them not to.
to have doubt without doubt. kiss it away like kissing the phony moon if we please now that we have come about here again to this old place we remember from silly daze of youth when we believed we were no longer young but old and wise. and how funny is that which continues until this day up on sugar mountain? and it's probably all broken down by now. best to keep it in our dreams buried systematically in the future.
children running in circles around the park. the clown needs to walk later. dog barking. he doesn't like dogs.
he likes spaceships. when everything has a place and purpose in natural order that we then throw a spanner into it grinding it to a halt. the so-called primitive knows more about it than we do. or they used to before they got corporatized. perhaps no more. it doesn't matter. they'll be recruited and armed by somebody's army and go rape and kill on their pursuit of happiness. just like everybody else. becuz we are them.
we don't need to be. we may not wanna be. but here we are with nothing else to do that is truly satisfying to the soul.
we don't have a soul, we are a soul - guru jeff.
guru jeff taught us by example how to steal what we need and how to think about what we need. it used to be easy back in the day. we made less $$$ but the $$$ was worth more. we ain't got squat now. everything is owned by the corporatestate and the banks which is perfectly alright uptight outta sight. swing it, baby. swing it all night long.
the experiment has failed. we are left with our own devices. far too many will not survive. anarchy now. we shall see. many of the others plead their case calmly and seemingly reasonably. but who can follow a word they say? they tell us all is love/? what is love? an ever-overflowing fountain of groovy good vibrations? and what do we do with the evil vibrations? everything no one wants to feel.
the clown sleeps and dreams.


Friday, July 14, 2017

part 49

so much confrontation. not enough love vibration. or not. be it as it may be. there is all possibility. we were never meant to be free. we all rely on society, even if we are outlaws. maybe especially if we are outlaws. taco. who provides us with what we steal? it's no big deal. it's all the same. everybody has a name. everybody plays the game.
we decide it's pointless and turn our backs. all these needless attacks so someone else feels brave but they only have themselves to save if they can, every woman, every man.
it gets to be a drag sometimes. time crawls to a stop. the coffee is bitter no sugar can sweeten. some mac and cheese which the fat black cat licks the bowl clean after. spin the wheels one more time just like the old days when we were oblivious to the wonder of everything, but at times amazed at the complexity of some of the most simple things we are experiencing experimentally with each supposed moment of continuous "time".
harrumph.
what a concept of imagination we have developed from our symbiotic dreaming of one another into reality of some sort. we'll figure out that shit later. keep dreaming on. be reasonable and mindful. be tolerant. be a pain in the ass. be tormented. be all possibilities. be impossible.
be productive. help others on your team to perform their best. strive to improve.
nevermind.
sit down.
quite quietly quit.
did we win?
how does it begin?
how does it end?
two shakes of a lamb's tail.
1/2... 1/2... 1/2... etc.
infinitesimal nothingness within a plenum singularity neither this nor that nor the other thing and so on and on.
is there reality anymore?
is there sputnik? or gazorbnik?
the clown lives in delusional wonderlands of toxic waste and fumes he becomes numb and used to by now and then passing experiencing as time that is any time at all from 0 toward infinity. infinity by its nature can never be reached as neither can 0. trust us. have grave doubts in mind while attempting to answer any questions. it's best to admit you don't know and keep on walking. but you can't get there from here.
old jokes.
medication time!
coffee. rock in pocket. a dark chocolate toke. mint chocolate chip ice cream sandwich. get some slack. don't look back.
everything's more or less the same.
can you feel it? what does it taste like? burning desires in your brain?
who would want these shenanigans always playing around with one's mind. would it be a choice to make a choice on one's own? no choice. no option. dance and play the fool interrupting our own thoughts. it's nice and easy everything all at once in a split instant decaying into itself. is that all? let us know when it is enough or if you want more. we can give it to you either way.
understanding comes over him in waves of consciousness. still there is always more. the point of everything is there is always more to it never ending as it also has no beginning. continuing process creating maintaining destroying. ride the waves, baby. ride the snakes and ladders. enjoy it while it is still here to be enjoyed.
positive and negative vibrations until one can no longer tell the difference. they are just vibrations only. but we of mortal life must be careful. perceiving the negative in the positive and the positive in the negative and back and forth again again. they are beautiful in wonder. more coffee. ginger snaps. but what good does that or any other perception do for the abused sick starving neglected peoples of the world? none that we are aware of. they are being left to mostly fend for themselves no matter our high ideals to the contrary.
gun shots on a thursday night. outta nowhere into someone. that's one solution - let us all kill each other. the police even gladly help to do that more than their share. yahoo. protect and serve our $$$ interests.
that's the way to do it. that's the way to get it done. solve the problem by eliminating the problem. no more singing and dancing. no more falling down. no more laughing. are we that useless? who wants us hanging around anywhere but easy street? it's hard to find but it's the place to meet.
what's harder to find is the burning theater but worth the trip where everything happening in the world happens on a stage. how is that possible? it's possible with make believe. do you remember make believe? most people forget when they are no longer children if not even before that. the villains and victims decided on the playground of our supposed innocence. the playground that becomes a workshop and everything turns serious. we are suddenly responsible for our actions and behavior. there are those who will lock us up for nothing. there are those who will set us free for $$$. we must be on our guard. the world is dangerous and we are the most dangerous to ourselves for reasons we have not been able to adequately explain that everyone agrees on. we all agree on very little if anything.
we don't even agree on what reality is or is not. nor what it might be composed of. kitty on the windowsill. what does she know about it? she has no mercy.
cars and trucks being driven by outside the window. people going places or coming home from places. doing things. besides the clown staying home, doing nothing.
breaking fast with eggs with cookies before it. the way to start the day for him and his shadow.
moron tv. give the people what they want by popular demand. by why do they get to decide for the rest of us just becuz they are the majority? the majority sucks. the will of the people, indeed. for certain collective groupthink people. too bad for them. too bad for us. the mob will survive, loners probably not. be prepared.
howling dogs.


Tuesday, July 11, 2017

part 47 (11)
and strange wonders will happen on the face of the earth disrupting our plans for utopia. everybody's in love with everyone else in the whole wide world. imagine that under your hat. is this the beginning or the end? writing epic deadpan so-called not p0em in his sleep the clown wrestles a legion of demons. they come at him every which way which is to be expected. 11:11 they tell him this, they tell him that, they tell him the other thing, and in total tell him nothing that isn't nonsense that doesn't make any $$$.
everything that makes $$$ makes sense, everything else is nonsense - guru jeff.
that about sums everything up. guru jeff doesn't always speak the truth, but when he does he hits it on the head. and what is there to add to that? nothing but more nonsense it would seem. or $$$ making madness which has always been the clown's bread and butter. that would seem strange in any other world than this one. but this is bizarro world. everything is backwards and upside down. but people behave as though that is normal as it should be. they cannot or will not imagine anything else. surprise. but why should they? they're making $$$ doing what they do. can't argue with that.
everything props up everything else. it all collapses as one. there are those who would destroy rather than create or maintain. this element of destruction needs to be preserved. everything is necessary. it all makes $$$, and how. it all makes sense.
and the more $$$ it makes the more sense it makes until it is swallowed up by nonsense which happens time to time. the clown eats a mint chocolate chip ice cream sandwich. he is tired - tired of baloney - and everybody's full of baloney. he farts. that's what he thinks about everything.
all the fucked up people. fucked up cuz they've been fucked over. but life isn't fair. just ask the bum outside the burning theater on easy street dreaming about being the star of the show. simple things for simple minds.
it's hot. he turns the fan on. everything is perfect for him to thrive so far. but things can change. always changing. one thing becomes another becomes another and so on. all with keeping of its nature.
but what is its nature when its nature is changing all the time?
is there some fundamental thing that it is that transcends through all that? and yes, there is. it is 0.
everything is nothing, nothing is everything.
but this is all make believe bullshit, yes?
the picture of it becomes more clear with each time passing by in our minds.
one would think there needs to be something that is changing - transforming. and one might be wrong. would it itself be changeless? could it possibly make any $$$? it would have continuous value and that value is 0. but 0 has no value, does it not? not especially. it has value from 0 to infinity and beyond - or something like that. and it may not have anything to do with what we are writing about. it is all possibility. it's a joke. get it?
it's medication time!
safe and sane. his madness somewhat under control. but under whose control?  his own? the doctor's? the drug company's? aliens?
he would like to believe it's himself but he cannot be so sure. the others lurk in the shadows. there is so much he doesn't know or understand. he is astounded by the vastness of his ignorance. isn't everyone by their own? or do they avoid admitting it even to themselves cuz they're so fucking smart?
he'd rather be himself than anyone else. it's easy. who is anyone but what they pretend to be? go home, wannabes. no need for you to be here taking up space making your noise all over the place. in your face, baby.
negative vibe nonsense all around him in his head. it's a mess. no wonder he gets nothing done. he's having too much fun. but cows come home to roost mooing all day long. who can sleep? who wants to sleep?
he has nothing to complain about but he always complains. the world is only how it can be, nothing else. they've figured out the rules for successful living, but who  wants to follow? we make our way through the brush and bramble of pathless paths and hope for the best. those who choose freedom now instead of later. what a mistake we make perhaps. he would trade none of it for anything.
while now he recovers from being in the hospital for the error in his ways. but how could it have been any different? what did he know that was any different? did he want it any different? different from what?
it's all good as it is. he is content as he will be for as long as it lasts. one never knows what's up as it comes crashing down. anything can happen. anything will happen. we are the evil enemy. all the good people are against us. we are against ourselves. stay away.
dreaming of a dream of reality. could it be as easy as that? many seem to believe so. a dream brahma dreams together with us. and other possibilities. snap.
the truth is vague and murky shrouded in mystery. to some there is no truth though that cannot be logically stated. a whirring in the back of his mind vibrating in his skull with love. he sighs recalling how he used to be who he thought he was and wanted to be. now it's nevermore.
peace be among you. may understanding come to all. but this is reached by thoughtful meditation upon a made up pretend god we must believe is real for its spell to work. and there's people living on the street for all that's worth. and they are punished for it. no mercy for the unforgiven. let this be a lesson for all of us. don't let it happen to you.
 a bowl of cereal. the clown thinks as he also cannot think. so much goes wrong for us all. too much to mention. but one probably knows what it is. feel it break your heart. where does one even start to deal? no wonder so many have gone insane. it's logical. there is too much pain.
and all he does is make up not p0em as if it were something important. an ant against an onslaught of stampeding elephants. everyone help themselves and hope for the best to come once and for all.
but why should it? it never has. there's no reasonable reason to expect it ever will. some demonic plan of an almighty god that does as it pleases - so there! we are bowling pins repeatedly knocked down for its perfect games. how boring it must be while its creatures scramble to survive as is their nature to be.
but there is no god or anything like it. why should it be so easy? it's only the void of the abyss we are left with and happenstance absurd fate. we can laugh or cry
and it matters not. so why not enjoy whatever it might be? hahaha. let them eat skittles. yum.
dumb idiot shit. sorry excuse for anything. that's what he's been told ingrained within the one size fits all indoctrination propaganda. machine never be any good to nobody. back in the experimental days when no one knows what the fuck could happen next. us on the front lines of a future supposing and speculating everything.
if all is true then what is true? what is that which appears to be what it seems to be? make believe questions for make believe answers. time for us is shallow. what will be around the next bend?
we end up dancing here by accident, glitches in the perfect perfected plagiaristic program as if there could be anything existing as that. everything changes in different ways. strange animal sounds electric glowing seeping walls of increased shame residing in ego inflated desires and fears. to protect the office while subverting the office. what? redundant episodes of reality inserted into our fantastic fantasies driving us wild crazy.
 it's medication time!
pills provided by the state. don't hesitate. and don't be late.
succumb to the powers that be delegate united for all for one.
styrofoam suffering never death no more within the  cycles of living.
we describe another world far from this one, yet so near.
we end up where we belong amid the stragglers seeing one another strange.
if he knew what he is thinking then.
if he knew what he is thinking now.
typing out a report to the committee though it more than probably will never be read by a committee that does not exist. fat chance. onward the clown types anyway enjoying the continual motion of thoughts from mind to screen. any transfer of data from one location to another of spacetime. he sometimes understands so much for knowing so little. another dream dreaming. watch it escape high to heaven where the good folk doth dwell to gaze down upon us suffering in a steaming stew of our own juices. suffering in terrible ecstasy as is the plan to rise above as we had imagined since a beginningless beginning like the cowards we are among people of steel.
a nice gig if we can get it.
i am amazed at how important most people think they and their insignificant scribblings are in a world where even life has no value - guru jeff.
we must sadly agree this is true even though we could be the target of it.
does life have any more value when we add our words to it? a resounding no echoes throughout the temple interior - and that is that. yet we continue to write our words as if they are an infamous epic out of proportion with itself. glory be to us. we are them. fix it up neat and clean as they want us to confess all our crimes they accuse us of. admit we are evil. but we will tell all and nothing. who will know the difference? climb into the sky. don't wonder why. that's how we become lost.
hyper-patriotic nationalism. faith in sacred burning flags up on the hill in another world reality from ours based in our imagination situational reflex-a-bob thing.
everything taken care of in the ϋber-security-state at large. if it can be done, it will be done - except anything threatening to the established status quo will be eliminated with the changing of the guard. the twitching hour. crawl on your hands and knees to the foundation of the throne that overflowth the golden waters. is something wrong?


Tuesday, July 4, 2017

part 44 (8)

we forget ourselves as we have wanted to awhile ago now and then unable to quite decide one way or another to go without going and all that cosmic trash the wise guys tell us we are wrong so we nevermind them and move our own way through the world of changes on our own.
sharp broken tooth scraping sore on flexing tongue - ouch!
big $$$ politics overdrive situation more more more.
make 'em squeak for their dinner as the gods require for their amusements. and this needs to be truth for the humble and worried among us aplenty. we are quite tired of this vacancy. we have better things to do than participate in some ancient tribal death rituals once more again.
it's taken all day to have written as far as this with naps and distractions along the way when his imagination flies away and nothing more matters in this life.
the next day -
game show tv. all the excitement as the numbers climb higher and the challenges become harder and luck the more elusive. the bright lights and the pressure is on. pick your winner now. spin the wheels one more time.
it's all real.
dumb fuck. the clown is anxious that he has screwed up again about something he doesn't know what. someone will be sure to come around and tell him though. they always do. he is fortunate that way. others love telling him that he is wrong. they seem to love telling anyone and everyone that they are wrong. cuz they know truth and all that business.
it's like the games children play on the playground and about as meaningful as that, except adults play for real. they torture and kill those who displease them that they justify with made up patriotic religions.
they do not learn. they feel they have nothing to learn. they know all things. just ask, they will tell you. there is so much they know that you need to know they know.
but we fly past that and their little worldly minds occupied with themselves. we dream about what nonsense they cannot imagine imagining.
eat the rich.
a butterfly lightly landing on a daisy as the clown continues not p0em about what he might possibly understand about the made up stuff others are thinking.
being right in the middle of some stupid genius dystopian dada confuse a cat nonsense. what you see is not what you're gonna get. what you get is what you believe you deserve. don't get feelings mixed up with facts - or vice versa. don't get your head mixed up with a hole in the ground. it is not always the abyss you are looking for, babe.
yes, forget. we must forget.
it seems at times everything is a victory against us, but we are still fighting against the tides, the tides beginning to change in our direction.
this should cease to be. it will cease to be. we will remember it no more. everything constantly at war. as it should be? action/reaction yin yang thingie around around.
a spinning wheel at war turning on its axis.
wait - what?
every piece of the puzzle fits, if you force it hard enough. it breaks. then we might choose among the broken shards which we may wanna use keeping in mind the pieces left over scattered around on the floor. everything has a place and time to be.
the fat black cat laying on the desk clawing and biting his hand as he types not p0em report to the committee that is never answered. there is probably no one home or something like interstellar transport that takes a zillion years to arrive at its destination nevermind a return trip.
who is supposed to pay for it? us? we don't have that kinda cash hanging around. we're just a buncha state sponsored bums. we're at the end of the line of the gravy train. we are what we were instructed to be, or to rebel against those instructions - same difference.
in the doldrums. down the toilet. laughing with the gods.
we write about our own experience not of others we know not. we do not tell others what is their experience and what it means and we expect the same in return but rarely get it. of course that is a lie. we do not state  truth as long as we might get away with it. why should we? does anyone else?
we are all liars. that is the truth we state now. it may or may not be true. at least that statement we might make in truth=====?
or else.
it's rather pointless besides itself laughing splashing in the sea.
the sea is humanity.
a new direction for the world one thing after another. let's see how far it will go before it all comes down like many predict.
1-2-3-go!
what does that mean?
3-2-1-stop!
high energy herky jerks come flipping down the street adjacent to easy street. everybody who knows anything avoids them cuz they take up so much time wanting shit from ya - useless shit.
but that's not the problem, is it?
the problem is other people putting us down like they got something on us but nothing we don't allow them to have.
it's kinda funny actually.
what?
but then everything is funny according to our theory of everything which is unimaginably complex yet awfully simple at once. and the clown wonders that he doesn't know what a cookie is. how could he have missed that? what a buffoon - haha.
he decides to sleep.
and awakening.
and it's medication time after he gets coffee and calls the doctor about his puffy feet and shortness of breath.
z
cinnamon chewing stick followed by a mentholated cough drop followed by the doctor calling back and the doorbell ringing at the same time followed by the fat black cat hopping up on the desk.
meanwhile the coffee's gotten cold.
and how does rationalogic explain this sorta organized confusion except by dismissing it. yet it happens. it happens most of the time yet is entirely unpredictable.
and now we wait for the doctor to call back at some point - if ever.
the horror stories we are to believe everybody in the conflict tell about the others getting their way which we must pledge not to allow them to do, or else.
the clown feels stupid.
the clown feels yanked around.
you have nothing to lose but your chains, they all tell us.
everything is alright now.
bend over and salute.
noon o'clock, time to hit the inhaler.
breathe.
suck on a chewing stick.
whatever it takes.
a peanut butter burrito.
a banana.
a nap.
an awakening.
coffee.
420
hate crime 2000.
the clown is alone most of the time. everybody else sleeping. flexing his swollen feet. he sits all the time mostly. he tries to decide between this and that and the other thing to no avail. his baby now watching her tv. why does he need to decide anything? deciding who's right and who's wrong as if there is a difference. it's all lies from every side plastered over with propaganda. who wants to deal with any of it? and that's how they get us. bog down our brains with useless fake information until we give up thinking about it, until we surrender.
and he is clueless as a baby lamb. he hates this world for the most part. what good is it? all competition and shit that no matter what we are part of it and cannot get ourselves untangled from it. it is part of our very nature and nurture and indoctrination. it merges in with our mind until we believe it is true and real.
how far do we need to go insane for this to happen? but it doesn't feel like insanity. we must believe ourselves sane or it doesn't work. not if we are aware that we are being tricked - tricking ourselves.
and the show must go on.