part 89 -

awakening once more.
coffee, cigarette.
it's medication time.
then it's off to get supplies.

all the people who have all the answers.
we have none with us being submerged in senseless questions to our profound idiot delight in ourselves (come on, it's such a joy).
beware the devil in the details.

possibilities enclose themselves with intended actions while new ones are opening like flowers in the sun.
the clown typing not p0em when it doesn't matter much anymore.
people seem to believe that we believe we know what we're doing. is this what they expect?
handled. our favorite fantasies about everything others are warned about becoming enticed. a witch's laugh. set it to ±0.
tricks up our sleeves we enter the dark zones of our head. we've gone mad?
a toke.

post-op quiz. are you ready? excuse us while we put on our oxygen. materialism is alive and he bows before no one. none will be alive who are living today. our replacements wait backstage to fill in as needed while time passes calmly by.

dreaming of dreams occurring noticing nothing else now today. extra cheese, please. extra everything. we must feed the masses. but everything is irrelevant but god. god exists though it may not even exist. that is god's power. we wanna hookup with that business, oh yeah.
and not the god they preach about being a god that hates everyone and everything. but not quite wanting a god of unconditional love either. a real god of ourselves.

it's raining today. language is a tricky thing. it can mean anything, what we think it means or not.
gazorbnik don't mean nothing. when everything is gazorbnik, we shall have peace on earth. or not.

babbling political news across the channels. everyone certain of the truth of their side's view of the situation.
the situation is fake to distract us from knowing the truth which is nowhere to be found here.
we have given up and make believe pretend for ourselves understanding everything that cannot be explained. it's too deeply dope.

another cigarette?
perhaps.
he decides to make music for a while for no more reason than anything else, besides pet the kitty. no sense of time as we know it ticking-tocking with passionate (SEX) mechanical precision west of here, but "time" is now the flowing of a stream or the falling of a leaf. the signal of a bird's cry. who's crazy now, baby?

he decides to smoke a cigarette.
he comes back continuing not p0em he can't seem to stop himself from doing as he pleases within the confines of this present reality he enjoys watching it self-destruct giving birth to new life©, perhaps?
it's scary as heck around here. new updates for the design software in the computer.

making noises that are offensive to some who decide that is the lifestyle they wish to live. follow your fate. be pleased. please, go away.
the innocence of illusionary thinking when spirits appear - damn them. calm down. it only gets worst. but through it all is gazorbnik - though others may have another name. gazorbnik is the name we chose for our own reasons that are none of anyone's business.
useful idiots aplenty.
the earth is poisoned through and through from the deepest bottom of the ocean to the very height of the farthest atmosphere, or thereabouts.
humans must die.

are you now or have you ever been a human?
we sit accused and silent. the clown does some stretching exercises wondering all the while of revelations floating through his mind as if on a whimsical wind.
are you sitting comfortably? nevermind if you aren't. it don't mean a thing to gazorbnik. that is our chosen profession. it ain't no vacation, baby.

there's a war on for our hearts and minds. but we are far removed from all of it by our own ways and means of gazorbnik (is there an app for that?).
there ain't nothing on the horizon that is remotely compatible with any known systems to date. we'll have to wait for the future. is it such a crime?  

obedience above all we march onward. all for land and blood, neither of which is our own. a squirrel in the rain. our gods are other people's demons. know those who consider you to be the enemy. dangerous folks. we rest in peace.
guardians of the overlands. we see everything as possibility, but call it what you will. everything is the same as [thoughtcrime] is, but differently in new ever-changing configurations. some of what is written is true while some of it is false. we can make up anything and write it.
we enjoy ourselves. that is an important thing for us to allow to happen as it will. we accept our fate and its results. we know nothing as of yet. we learn what we are becoming. we hope for the best but expect the worst. haha.
yes, it is a joke, according to the amusing fashion of our theory of everything. but that will quickly end.
_________

after a day in the rain in a garden, home with a toke and a cigarette the clown goes to the kitchen at the other end of the house from the studio to brew coffee.
not quite in this world. not really. it doesn't seem to matter. life goes on changing continuously ever-after toward the oblivion of infinity in the infinitesimal measurements of a ±0 singularity - ha.

it's all possible though most of it is unnecessary it would seem. it's a dream. it's a dream of a scheme. a scheme to give birth to wonder in a moment.
it's all for this to occur. all the wars of the civilized world in sex crazed fury near simultaneous orgasms of absolute consciousness, or something like that.

it's fun and exciting. don't be dismayed by naysaying nincompoops, they don't know their own assholes.
pet the kitty.
he makes and eats a burrito. another toke and cigarette to ease his worried mind continuing not p0em.
everything for the greedy mightiest of us all. it's the way it's gonna be like it or not. dream what thou wilt.
we dream the world as is to be that which anyone makes it is it to be. good luck.
you don't need to worry about nothing.
the clown sighs.