30 -

receiving signals from neptune through dangerous times the clown picks his nose and continuing sitting before the computer gazes out the window at a rainy morning feeling the blues as it should be in this world at this time typing out not p0em for the masses.
many gods claim to be the one immortal almighty god.
ah-choo.
they seem planning to duke it out whatever consequence to others.
über-apes beating chests and charging one another.
sigh... so silly from our context.
but the crowds love it.
watch them rape and pillage.
this the root of their theology mythology and such other-ologies.
crank it up, baby.
way up.

making up gazorbnik from out of a hat - maybe somebody else's hat.
nevermind.
it's all the same difference to us
the beat goes on so many levels.
dancing up and down stairs.
from heaven to hell between and beyond.
everything is experience whatever the fuck our fate might be from how we choose with our free will.
or not.

relax.
breathe.
pet the kitty.

he gazes outside seeing the van in the driveway that he can drive places when he wants to in interactive reality simulation whatnot.
disgusting but true.
give yourself up.
why should we have all the fun?
coffee.
he lights a toke and then a cigarette.
give ourselves up to who or what?
who's in charge here amid all the fussing and fighting?
no one?
we ourselves are the only authority we recognize.
but we are legion.
confusion reigns.
why should we give up unless we are forced to?
maybe we should just forget about it.
live life as life is lived and living.
we are amazed by everything.

0 is the center of the universe.
0 is the center of our heads.
infinitesimal pinpoint.
0 projects everything we experience.
- in theory.

our theory of everything.
grab bag nearly full to overflowing with whatever we might discover being.
contradictions and paradoxes galore.
that's what makes it most interesting and fun for our amusement.
who am us?
we are them who are i am.
???

it begins and/or ends anywhere anywhen as anything.
there is no beginning nor end.
how could there be?
there is all continuing.
there are beginnings and ends to things.
everything is not a thing.
not an object in space and time.
it is not even space and time.
it's just everything.
beyond all finite constructions of itself.
everything is the only infinity.
everything is everywhere everywhen and beyond even itself as itself is known to itself.
and all that cosmic trash that won't help you find a job.

it's all the clown dreams of being.
is he the only one?
he doubts that.
myriad reflections of consciousness within the maze of mirrors.
shattered light.
a disco ball of stars and such radiating to and from our being.
everything is consciousness.
everything is i am to itself.
as much as words might be able to express.

the journey of experiencing.
experiencing everything as much as our senses allow - as much as our imaginations might envision.
everything known to be.
people zeroing down to what exactly everything might be, zeroing down ultimately on nothing - 0.
what makes sense and what does not?
it's medication time.

a cigarette.
not the life of a saint or such.
not even a jack of all trades.
just a foolish clown babbling not p0em.
hahaha.
is the joke on him?

it seems everything is just that - everything.
all that is and all that is not, between and beyond.
a mad god laughing screaming alone in the void inside his head.
we can imagine this being.
but there seems to be a certain reality we all experience more or less the same yet having a zillion+ meanings to each of us.
he feels he understands.
perhaps not.
not even close, baby.
nowhere (now here).

meanwhile he sits on a beach of an island in the eye of a storm raging on an otherwise calm sea.
the sea is humanity.
on the island are the forest of dreams, the garden with the house by the gate, the imaginary city with the burning theater on easy street.
all constructed by ongoing imagination that sometimes goes far astray.
he watches waves rolling in and washing out the same and different depending upon how we might behold them.
what we give our attention to and what we do not.
let's argue about it.

he feels divinely mad.
he feels like an idiot.
both at the same time.
he has to unclog the toilet after his morning poop.
chop water, carry wood, and all that jazz.
but he spends his time dreaming.
he doesn't always know about what.
whatever.

a very rainy morning here now.
another toke.
he is as he is lazy bum as he is.
he never quite got with the collective program he observed others following.
but he does ok.
lands on his feet somehow.
he may not be worth much but at least he's not worth a ransom.

how much of this is familiar to others relative to their own experiences?
or not.

29 -

laughing our fool heads off as the clown continuously typing not p0em for the few and far between among the masses bumps his head against the falling sky dreaming about certain paradoxes involved in elegant descriptions of mundane reality while he picks at a scab on his arm gazing out the window at the park with slanting sun and shadows as the children walk by on their way to the indoctrination centers.

coffee, toke, cigarette.

he is thinking of getting bulbs to plant for spring, if it's not too late.

he needs to buy some pants and a coat.

otherwise everything appears to be the same.

appearances are deceiving at times as many people do not seem to realize until it's too late to negotiate other options.

he does a few stretching exercises.

more coffee.

in the grand scheme of everything he is done for.

they have their plans for people like him - freaks.

everyone should be just like them, or else.

we've been here before back in the good old days.

you either had it or you didn't.

he was never good at socialized duckspeak.

unintelligible mish mash quack quack.

another cigarette.

his head always gets in the way.

everything to him seems to have different meanings.

except gazorbnik which is theoretically universally meaningless.

it perhaps defies all meaning - or not.

it could be the name of a demon he conjures up or an angel he conjures down for all he knows about it.

whatever anyone is willing to believe.

he is willing to believe almost anything though he has doubts about nearly all of it.

with this state of mind it becomes difficult to make much $$$.

a high crime in this world deserving all manner of punishments.

that is what they wish us to believe, and we do for the most part.

not everyone can be on the top.

the pyramid of hierarchical power would topple over.

but if everyone in their place is adequately provided for, then what's the problem?

problems all over the place all of the time it seems.

that's how gazorbnik fits in.

dig?

it don't mean shit.

not even dust in the wind.

the clown amuses himself any which way he feels like that might tickle his fancy.

this way, that way, the other way, and so on - and sideways, like a crab.

crabby old man - haha.

stay away.

he giggles to himself.

all aboard!

here we go along on the carousel ride.

away away...

he naps. 

awakening.

discovering reality again.

slipping into it out of it.

who had JFK shot?

coffee, toke, cigarette.

it's medication time.

holy hell, what's on tv?

while we are sleeping we are being taken over.

we scream.

everything composed of spacetime.

does it mean anything?

of course it does.

except for gazorbnik.

it's time for happy news.

lighting another cigarette the clown wonders about whatever the fuck he feels like as he attains nirvana or something like it or not - probably not.

what does he know about it?

and so what?

who cares about anyone sucked up into their mind blowing off the world and the people in it?

how selfish.

how sweet it is otherwise while everything goes to shit as it has always been.

we celebrate our being here now in the thick of the mess of it - haha.

let the world have its end whatever way that's gonna be.

let all the love songs be silent.

let waves of the abyss wash over everything.

hit us with it.

let us forget.

discovering ourselves on distant shores from here where joy echoes in our heads.

no place nor time.

it's our imagination.

we sit on the beach watching the waves come and go despite forecasts of a hard rain's gonna fall.

nevermind us.

we don't know any better nor do we wish to.

we are satisfied enough content in our nonsense dreams of self-delusion.

the rise of the working class.

we believe in no particular truth but all truth and no truth that might be with wind in our hair without a care.

hat on head.

we're not dead.

figure it out until there is no doubt.

be nice or leave.

cognitive dissonance.

those telling us everything is false except what they tell us is true.

we are sheep fast asleep according to them invoking us to wake up rise up following them cuz they're in the know.

they must think we're stupid and many of us are who do as they are told.

but we hardly trust them with anything.

let them fight their wars without us.

we'll watch on tv.

SQ/ 11100100 -

another cigarette.

the mail's arrived.

the sun is partly out.

the clown only cares if he's acting.

it's just noise in his head.

NSA disinformation broadcasts.

party on.

and what others know that they claim is truth may very well be truth.

we do not discount that yet we have our doubts.

truth does not allow doubt.

truth persecutes those who doubt driving them out into the surrounding darkness.

this is what we do not believe about their truths.

nothing that harms another.

when we reach that plateau of stars will we finally be free as we need to be?

let them sit on their mountain tops scorning humanity beneath them.

we will have none of that.

but what are we dreaming but nonsense? 

when 2+2=cow.

keep an eye out.

not for everyone perhaps.

for those in a tree learning how to play the flute.

whatever.

does it matter?

is there a reason it is confined to a few and far between?

one might think so.

the answer lies beyond right and wrong for those who are willing to imagine it.

to become so distracted with everything at once.

this isn't fucked up, it's fucking great.

not so for so many.

the terrible suffering when we could swiftly come to their aid, but won't.

we're on a mission to paradise - or bust.

ready to plant our burning flag on the rusty beaches.

the head of the machine rising from the sea.

the sea is humanity.

billions.

some of us and whole shit loads of them.

what does one do under these particular peculiar circumstances?

we do whatever makes $$$, and hope it's enough.

and hilarity ensues.

get slack.

put your back into it.

we're under attack.

are you free wednesdays?

over.

digging out the dead from the rubble.

before they rot and give us trouble.

you gotta be this or that or the other thing and so on to be anyone.

who wants to be anyone?

he thought at first he wanted to but didn't like who anyone was supposed to be.

he'd rather be no one out of the way as much as he could.

someone in the shadows.

man in the rain picking up his dog's shit across the street.

the clown suddenly understands it all now in an instant.

on bended knee sword in hand handling it upwardly to the sky before plunging it downwardly into the earth.

ride the snake.

the facts are the facts as imposed by those who control those who control the state controlling the masses.

elitism prevails.

everybody's a winner.

losers not allowed.

who's in charge here? - hahaha.

who are lovers here?

who hates with a passion?

who falls in the middle flat on their face?

;ouch.

pet the kitty.

he pops a lasagna into the... hot oven: imagining_a_coven of angels tiptoe through the tulips.

it's medication time.

this world bass ackwards.

peace in our time? - doubtful.

love crimes.

when too much is not enough.

when old friends turn their backs.

now he alone remembers the past.

a life of destiny and decadent culture.

we did not choose none of this.

were we ever even asked?

perhaps we chose not to remember.

wrong hole.

pay attention, kerouac.

it doesn't come around again.

a stake through the heart of the matter.

lsdlsdlsdlsdlsdlsd.

we seek our way through disbelief.

we are connected in communion with one another.

communication community.

magick plays its part.

the nihilist telling us there is nothing with any meaning.

they are comic geniuses performing 3 times a day at the burning theater until next tuesday.

come see them while you still can.

discount group rates available.

see you there.

we can see you, can you see us?
sitting before the computer thinking typing not p0em cuz he ain't no poet the clown wonders when he will ever learn as he lights another cigarette.
learn exactly what?
puddles and muddles of thought clogging in his brain.
thoughts flying away like falling dominos in the rain.
how random is random?
is there patterns to everything?
could be.
perhaps doesn't need to be.
nothing ever repeating the same ever never.
he briefly becomes taken away.
moments later (?) he comes back to it.
it is it.
it is what it is.
it is what it is not.
it is not it.
anything might happen.
let x=x.
the giddy laughter begins for some who come along this way in their overjoyed madness on waves and waves of boundless pathless paths we undertake through toward oblivion and beyond or something like that and then some.
and don't forget about the ghosts.
don't forget about anything.

ongoing continuing changing configurations gliding along continuums of everything at once here now and all that jazz.
how perfectly logical.
denoting the intelligence of hate propaganda.
huge tits.
few think of truth.
should anyone?
no more than a few need to.
people got other shit to do making $$$ making the world go around.
shoveling shit is one of them.
untouchable shit.
everything is shit at some point.
creating sustaining destroying.
transforming.
[etc].

everything we know is wrong is one possible theory included in with our theory of everything.
nothing is actually here that we have necessarily been able to definitely determine.
we have our theories.
take your pick.
beware of the truth, it can be misleading - or not.
as he paints his masterpiece.
as he composes his music.
another cigarette.
learning how 2+2=cow?
the clown tries to remember.
it makes sense if you think about it too much.
at some point everything breaks down in your head.

but he's gotta collect and put out the trash.
pick up his baby at the airport.
get supplies.
clean cat box.
and it's medication time.

we cannot seem to control ourselves but need to be controlled - or not.
the philosophy of the ruling elite.
he fits himself hidden within the surrounding structured social environment where he doesn't need to care.
when you're mad people ignore you and leave you alone - mostly.
a quiet garden to imagine.
finding peace, love, and understanding for oneself in whatever way possible in a world tearing itself to pieces.
and around and around like that and so on.

he nukes and eats leftover spring rolls with hot mustard.
another toke.
another cigarette.
another beginning and ending that are together at 1 point in 1 moment and won't let go, oddly enough.
it's all in what we imagine what possibly might be.
we do not necessarily believe but give benefit of the doubt.
we balance it all on the tip of our nose.
that's how this goes.
what it actually is - if anything - we still are attempting to discover.
we're sure they'll let us know when they come to agree on something.
it's a mystery to us we try to unriddle along the way among other things we are trying to do as well.
bright gray rainy day.
a day to find our pathless paths crossing various varying thoughts and emotions on a waving sea.
a sea of complementary opposing duality which just may be what makes the world go around.
it's at least probably part of what actually does make the world go around - or not.
if there is anything that does.

we feel that at the heart of everything that there perhaps ought to be something.
many claim to know what it is.
perhaps they are all describing the same something however much they seem in disagreement.
we feel that might be the situation.
we try to understand as many as we are able to the extent we might compare them together to perhaps determine if or if not they are the same.
this is one of the many missions of the project begun at the dawn of consciousness if need be.
we are hoping that will not become necessary.
we can always go back in our minds and change it.
we shall see.

but... on with the show!?!

(to be continued...)

o0o

27 -

(9)
baked beans.
cheetos.
what's this clown up to?
it's medication time.
guarded messages from the front.
garbled messages from the rear.
watch out.
this could be a trick.
a trick of the trade.
they don't understand.
we are not supposed to be here.
every moment is strange to us.
we are a fluke of fate, or some such.
they don't know what the fuck.
they don't know that they don't know.
we know.
we have always known.
knowing without knowing.
11:11
we live with secret understanding.
and now the animals are out of their cages.
roaming about searching for those who would be their victims.
everywhere.
now? - hasn't it always been?
yes, of course.
we don't know cuz we don't wanna know.
we just worship heroes of the day going by into another.
there is just war among us.
the clown lights another cigarette.
he knows there's little point to any of this nonsense.
but that's the point, isn't it?
more bad news every day.
good and evil are both the same in reflection of one another.
power above all.
the rest are reduced to a mob with their heads cut off.
anything goes.
the machine keeps chugging along.
he just dunno what the fuck.
he thinks he probably should know for certain like many others proudly claim to, but he don't.
that may or may not prove to be a problem.
he eats a snickers.

the next day -
the clown feels disconnected - he is disconnected.
jagged edged.
somnambulant.
living death.
21st century schizoid.
all that jazz.
but no worries - he's built for times like this.
so much differently the same.
to keep your balance through thick and thin, etc.
balance out of balance.
gyroscopic spin, baby, spin.
on a tightwire high above the twinkling stars.
whoa - hang on!
chop wood, carry water.
on and on like that and then some.
more coffee, another toke, another cigarette.
it's medication time.
becoming distracted - lucid.
transfixed by eternity.
x-ray mind.
freedom and responsibility.

26 -

set at 0.
begin again.

awakening.
coffee, toke, cigarette.
phallic flowers.
people moaning crying about what they have done did.
not us.
we observe and report to the committee via not p0em as such.
it's medication time once again.
report for duty now for the future.
every act you make.
action/reaction yin yang boomerang.
multiplied by billions.
let logic figure that one out.
we proceed on understanding.

it's all been stated before and before that on and on...
we give it another spin around the block.
why not?
each take it in their own way.
each have understanding they believe in.
what truth can be proven to mean truth?
what can be explained?
interesting thoughts that come to mind - from our playful muse?
divine madness percolating in our brain.
not insane.
transparent head.
we can see for miles.
meh.

we are outside the circles of the elites.
hooray for them.
from small circles of friends to global organizations.
everywhere everywhen.
like we care.
we just need to beware.
and also beware of their minding minions among us by millions especially.
they are the true immediate danger.

those who think in friend or foe mentality are funny to observe creating problems they do not seem to know how to resolve.
but everybody's doing it, so...
what's your excuse?

we are not here now.

(to be continued...)