15 -
it's medication time.
nothing he thinks is true and/or real.
how is he supposed to know?
starting with 0 he leaps to infinity.
is that how it's done?
the mythical mystical properties of it.
infinity stretches in and out reaching a point of becoming random chaos seeking toward oblivion and beyond.
the mysteries of the occult with runic flavor for some.
old school of the gods.
reaching for the jewel of the lotus for others.
and the vengeful gods of law and order and their rebellious adversaries for others still.
all in a hat.
imagine that.
victory is ours!
a dialogue between past and future.
here we are now, the year 0.
flip a coin into a fountain, make a wish come true.
everything is on/off at some point.
everything is on/off throughout.
heads or tails?
which is what?
so many possible options on the theme.
too many questions without rational explanations nor meaningful answers.
this must not be.
decide, on or off.
be quick like a bunny.
who will notice the difference?
the finite within infinity.
infinity within the finite.
and all that jazz.
not for public consumption.
can't have everyone sitting around doing nothing thinking this shit, can we?
of course not.
for those of us randomly selected to proceed wasting our time imagining this foolishness for ourselves to amuse us in our madness.
the error of our ways and means.
those who do not win the race but who wander slowly away while no one's watching.
this could have many various meanings for anyone.
meanings to kill and die for.
etc.
noon o'clock.
phony baloney.
abolished defenders of the faith of the sky fathers.
nevermore.
the faith of the earth mothers prevails.
evermore.
should it be?
perhaps, or not.
he naps.
awakening to life.
life worth living?
yes/no/maybe.
coffee, toke, cigarette.
penguin!
it's medication time.
frisbee!
it's popeyes chicken time.
brawk!
medicated and fed he wonders about everything flowing through his mind.
the desperation many live with.
the abused sick starving neglected children of all ages including nearly most all of us.
who is not?
and so on.
___________
morning -
the trash guy comes around driving the trash truck and collects the trash.
it's always something.
what an interesting world it is if all the conspiracies are correct.
entangling beyond comprehension - or that is what they want us to believe.
mass fractured consciousness that chases itself down rabbit holes.
more coffee, another cigarette.
every game in town is rigged to favor the house.
smart business practice 101.
business is not a charity.
however, charity is a business.
business does not take sides, it merely seeks opportunity.
identify self-interest.
go.
cosmic vibes, baby.
everything everywhere everywhen.
11:11
radiating to and from in all dimensions in all directions within and without sideways.
it's all too much.
when is it ever enough?
when are we ever satisfied?
beat it with a stick until it's dead.
use our imaginations.
don't become confused even when you are confused.
do you know what to do?
if in doubt, don't follow instructions - get the hell outta here now.
a little trick of the trade.
the trade of madness.
madness that is best left to professionals.
we are them.
___________
tomorrow -
famished of thought sitting at the counter at the diner onstage in the burning theater being alone with old friends gone to seek their fortunes elsewhere while he scribbles not poem into a notebook about what he does not know nor probably ever will as if it matters or not.
he knows i am and that may be enough for now beginning without beginning ending without end as thoughts come to mind vague fleeting impressionistic.
wanting to understand everything about everything to no avail but to continue observing experiencing what information is available at the moment here now.
people walking by the front windows as if this is all real which it may be or not.
how do any of us know for certain?
but we act as though it is real since it causes pain if you don't.
nevermind - enjoy it while it lasts whatever the fuck it is.
ducks in a row groupthink conformity and never fitting into the master plan if there is any.
good riddance.
stumble bumble along wandering wondering pathless paths toward endless horizons in illusions of disregarded uniformity.
he keeps a rock in his pocket reminding him of something he has forgotten.
oh well.
a cold morning of gray dawning light like mornings before washed with all night acid seeking breakfast before bed and sleep.
memories of youth stupidly abused as if enlightenment might appear around the next bend but was not as he had imagined it would be immersed in cosmic glowing light.
eyesore dilemmas regretfully aware of self discovery and shaky hands greeting the lost to themselves.
what is the worst that could happen now?
a dream shattered like china plate laughing outta our minds.
somehow we have avoided this.
a deepening abyss forgiven without cause like it or not which he isn't sure of either one to make up his mind in the approaching darkness.
in-between consciousness upward downward spiraling into real and unreal worlds twirling around in his head in motion with everything at once forever is the way it seems to come about in the moment passing now through the eye of a needle as if this could ever be as it is.
but he is mad as a crumbled cookie so it would seem perfectly reasonable to him.
on the eve of destruction we decide to go to the beach to watch waves coming and going to synch our minds back together eating hot dogs from the vendor on the boardwalk underneath which people fuck the day away while we are thinking about everyone who have lost everything once upon a time as bomber jets fly overhead reminding us again of the situation.
emptiness surmounts all reason why not become an afterthought with squirrel in the brain we are senseless in our domain protectorate dream mechanics driven sloping sloth toward lazy latitudes bending across withstanding refuge as impossible possibility surprise everyone concerned gather around to slaughter the beast with 16 heads with tongues afire speaking mysteries in riddles only the insane understand who refuse to reveal the secrets known to them for dangerous reasons.
copycat killer freebase face protruding through a wormhole disguised as a goat squawking banal segments of snow drifts glazing the ceiling drawn into a cartoon of ranch dressing as the game plays out among the disciples of the lord satan laughing all the while in interesting formulations of their flesh without sin tricking unbelievers into dropping their pants to join the parade outta town where rainbows end.
he packs up his bag and comes home.
it's medication time.
nothing he thinks is true and/or real.
how is he supposed to know?
starting with 0 he leaps to infinity.
is that how it's done?
the mythical mystical properties of it.
infinity stretches in and out reaching a point of becoming random chaos seeking toward oblivion and beyond.
the mysteries of the occult with runic flavor for some.
old school of the gods.
reaching for the jewel of the lotus for others.
and the vengeful gods of law and order and their rebellious adversaries for others still.
all in a hat.
imagine that.
victory is ours!
a dialogue between past and future.
here we are now, the year 0.
flip a coin into a fountain, make a wish come true.
everything is on/off at some point.
everything is on/off throughout.
heads or tails?
which is what?
so many possible options on the theme.
too many questions without rational explanations nor meaningful answers.
this must not be.
decide, on or off.
be quick like a bunny.
who will notice the difference?
the finite within infinity.
infinity within the finite.
and all that jazz.
not for public consumption.
can't have everyone sitting around doing nothing thinking this shit, can we?
of course not.
for those of us randomly selected to proceed wasting our time imagining this foolishness for ourselves to amuse us in our madness.
the error of our ways and means.
those who do not win the race but who wander slowly away while no one's watching.
this could have many various meanings for anyone.
meanings to kill and die for.
etc.
noon o'clock.
phony baloney.
abolished defenders of the faith of the sky fathers.
nevermore.
the faith of the earth mothers prevails.
evermore.
should it be?
perhaps, or not.
he naps.
awakening to life.
life worth living?
yes/no/maybe.
coffee, toke, cigarette.
penguin!
it's medication time.
frisbee!
it's popeyes chicken time.
brawk!
medicated and fed he wonders about everything flowing through his mind.
the desperation many live with.
the abused sick starving neglected children of all ages including nearly most all of us.
who is not?
and so on.
___________
morning -
the trash guy comes around driving the trash truck and collects the trash.
it's always something.
what an interesting world it is if all the conspiracies are correct.
entangling beyond comprehension - or that is what they want us to believe.
mass fractured consciousness that chases itself down rabbit holes.
more coffee, another cigarette.
every game in town is rigged to favor the house.
smart business practice 101.
business is not a charity.
however, charity is a business.
business does not take sides, it merely seeks opportunity.
identify self-interest.
go.
cosmic vibes, baby.
everything everywhere everywhen.
11:11
radiating to and from in all dimensions in all directions within and without sideways.
it's all too much.
when is it ever enough?
when are we ever satisfied?
beat it with a stick until it's dead.
use our imaginations.
don't become confused even when you are confused.
do you know what to do?
if in doubt, don't follow instructions - get the hell outta here now.
a little trick of the trade.
the trade of madness.
madness that is best left to professionals.
we are them.
___________
tomorrow -
famished of thought sitting at the counter at the diner onstage in the burning theater being alone with old friends gone to seek their fortunes elsewhere while he scribbles not poem into a notebook about what he does not know nor probably ever will as if it matters or not.
he knows i am and that may be enough for now beginning without beginning ending without end as thoughts come to mind vague fleeting impressionistic.
wanting to understand everything about everything to no avail but to continue observing experiencing what information is available at the moment here now.
people walking by the front windows as if this is all real which it may be or not.
how do any of us know for certain?
but we act as though it is real since it causes pain if you don't.
nevermind - enjoy it while it lasts whatever the fuck it is.
ducks in a row groupthink conformity and never fitting into the master plan if there is any.
good riddance.
stumble bumble along wandering wondering pathless paths toward endless horizons in illusions of disregarded uniformity.
he keeps a rock in his pocket reminding him of something he has forgotten.
oh well.
a cold morning of gray dawning light like mornings before washed with all night acid seeking breakfast before bed and sleep.
memories of youth stupidly abused as if enlightenment might appear around the next bend but was not as he had imagined it would be immersed in cosmic glowing light.
eyesore dilemmas regretfully aware of self discovery and shaky hands greeting the lost to themselves.
what is the worst that could happen now?
a dream shattered like china plate laughing outta our minds.
somehow we have avoided this.
a deepening abyss forgiven without cause like it or not which he isn't sure of either one to make up his mind in the approaching darkness.
in-between consciousness upward downward spiraling into real and unreal worlds twirling around in his head in motion with everything at once forever is the way it seems to come about in the moment passing now through the eye of a needle as if this could ever be as it is.
but he is mad as a crumbled cookie so it would seem perfectly reasonable to him.
on the eve of destruction we decide to go to the beach to watch waves coming and going to synch our minds back together eating hot dogs from the vendor on the boardwalk underneath which people fuck the day away while we are thinking about everyone who have lost everything once upon a time as bomber jets fly overhead reminding us again of the situation.
emptiness surmounts all reason why not become an afterthought with squirrel in the brain we are senseless in our domain protectorate dream mechanics driven sloping sloth toward lazy latitudes bending across withstanding refuge as impossible possibility surprise everyone concerned gather around to slaughter the beast with 16 heads with tongues afire speaking mysteries in riddles only the insane understand who refuse to reveal the secrets known to them for dangerous reasons.
copycat killer freebase face protruding through a wormhole disguised as a goat squawking banal segments of snow drifts glazing the ceiling drawn into a cartoon of ranch dressing as the game plays out among the disciples of the lord satan laughing all the while in interesting formulations of their flesh without sin tricking unbelievers into dropping their pants to join the parade outta town where rainbows end.
he packs up his bag and comes home.
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