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