33
-
happy happy.
carry the news.
where when it begins and ends.
here now.
0.
the point of no return.
sucked into not-being.
confronted by reason.
11:11
reasoned by confrontation.
lowly abject turds unite.
hahaha.
not p0em by candlelight.
rise above.
push and shove.
in the name of love and hate.
it's a date.
the clown lights another cigarette.
deceptive ingredients in the pie.
peer through it with our opening eye.
what is reveled?
can we use it or discard it?
experimental laziness.
failing expectations of our potential.
potential to be used and abused.
for $$$.
he didn't used to believe, now he does.
everything is for sale.
everything can be bought.
he once believed in the free soul.
but it has a price is right as anything else.
slurping and sucking.
there's always room for more.
whatever you do don't take off your shoes.
all of birth, all of life, all of death.
_________
sitting at the counter at the diner scribbling not p0em for the masses cuz he ain't no elitist poet the clown thinks about all that is unseen and about lizard people for that matter and such with triple shot mocha at hand just as it was, just as it is, just as it will be in varying ongoing continuous configurations of space and time, etc.
there is no reason to think there is a basic fundamental foundation of some sort composing the universe that we haven't discovered yet but relationships of energies.
now the scientist priests tell us there is no reality.
jesus, join the investigation, would ya?
where have they been?
but that is neither here nor there nor anywhere.
i am is within and without everywhere everywhen.
feel it beating in your heart and all that jazz.
jump to it.
something niggling jiggling in his brain while he is in delusion about everything going on not quite knowing what's true and what's fake as if that matters.
so we go on as if.
force fields of energies entangled knitted together as the tapestry fabric of everything.
light is one.
light is all.
the light of darkness in our skulls sparkling thoughts of mind.
low level comprehension stuck in a world destroying itself with arrogant greed.
none giving an inch to another.
grab it while you can mentality.
beauty is ugly.
up is down.
when you're rich you are poor.
turn it around and see nothing is changed.
it's always the same.
do not worry.
help is on the way.
not much comes to mind now but echoes of thoughts already thunk dreaming about impossibilities.
they go get supplies and return and unload.
the clown returns to the counter to scribble more not p0em.
life isn't fair.
the gods play favorites.
fate doesn't give a fuck.
against this he has managed to survive to some extent though not exactly prospering.
he hangs on by threads dreaming still of senseless things to pacify his time to live yet amusing himself with this, that, and the other thing wishing for something he doesn't know what.
what more would he want if it would be given?
wishing for others to be able to live a life they happen to enjoy.
but many enjoy suffering.
learning the tricks of the trade of being no one in particular observing the ways of the world.
nothing is in his way.
why should it be?
everything comes to him eventually as he is able to understand.
he is surprised, but not really.
it comes and goes as is the way of all things if one pays attention enough.
he doesn't pay much.
it comes to him by psychic osmosis or something.
transmissions from outer space or somewhere in the future.
possessed by the demon/angel gazorbnik he plays dangerous games in his head thinking into forbidden realms for secrets to understanding which he trusts no one to tell him, and why should he?
he doesn't trust anyone for shit.
he packs up and comes home and naps.
_________
awakening.
coffee, toke, cigarette.
people pointing at people like the clown for their children to see someone not to become like.
but he's always been attracted to the bum's life despite his uptight upbringing and now getting paid by the state to be one.
what a deal.
what a squeal.
trippy.
drippy.
pod.
overtures of bygone sacrifices endured.
the gods must be pleased.
what gods?
archetypical gods of our deep psycho psyche perhaps.
dark mysteries.
random rainbows searching for answers.
brutal dictators.
no more nice guy.
this is serious shit.
put your boots on.
our cats would kill us if they could.
no doubt.
play with us first.
swipe.
instinct.
is that consciousness?
perhaps.
our consciousness is pretty instinctive itself.
primate logic.
sex and death.
hungry.
bored.
fucking lazy.
do gods have instincts?
hmm... he wonders.
while being under attack.
mind control waves.
disruption of the brain.
confusion, insanity, and beyond.
and hilarity ensues.
at the point when fire consumes screaming flesh suspended for eternity.
signals from the interstellar overdrive machine vector 0 thing.
ongoing variation vibrations and their consequences.
beware everything - anyone.
anything goes.
it's all fake.
we deal with it if we can.
_________
a few days later -
ice 9.
sitting before the computer continuing typing not p0em the clown thinking about wonderful things to dispel the gloom and doom that has become popular.
every day seems like the last to ever be as it has been forever deep into our memories.
what a strange thing we are as being these humans but it all makes sense almost any way we might think about it.
there are many many truths among us.
is it necessary they all must agree with one another?
but there are many truths that hold that unbelievers should be eliminated from the believers by any means.
so what to do but observe and watch it play itself out as these truths are confronting each other into war any day now?
as it is written.
self-fulfilling prophetic scripts.
sigh.
we believe anything is truth as much as anything else, or at least contains truth.
however, few of these truths believe in us except as being the damned, especially among the dominant ones which come to power and maintain it through devious ways and means.
but this is where we have gotten ourselves to in our evolution thus far.
will something ever come of it or will it just destroy itself?
we shall see.
our crumbling hope.
our dashed expectations.
we keep going just the same - most of us.
the clown hasn't yet decided which of the sides he might be on though he fits the descriptions of those others have identified as to being their enemy to be destroyed and/or punished forever.
we are them.
blah blah blah.
everything blah blah blah.
so it goes.
the coolest people don't give a fuck.
be cool.
how is one supposed to give a fuck in a fuckless world?
drive it to the breaking point.
witness what happens next.
along on a groove thing happening here now everywhere everywhen.
it is as one is able to find it.
jump for joy shadowed in sorrow.
nonetheless the project is ongoing ahead of schedule and under budget programed into our DNA.
we follow/don't follow instructions without knowing what for.
deep penetration into our brains.
what will come from all of it?
is greed our only motivation?
our love/hate relationships with ourselves.
the drama that ensues for the delight of the gods perhaps.
for the delight of ourselves acting in it for the moment of our lives here in this world that is a stage in the burning theater.
we all each have our parts to play and all that jazz like that as others have described perhaps better than us.
the story goes on passed from one to another to tell as they will.
every one from a different varying perspective.
we paint reality as we wish.
we determine for ourselves what shape it takes in conjunction with others and their ideas about it into a common reality we agree more or less is the same for all though many will argue against this part of our theory as they should.
verification by our peers.
who are our peers?
the hated and despised, the underlings and overlords, the outcasts, the in crowd, the timid and afraid, the brave and heroic, the abused sick starving neglected children of all ages.
in short, we are them.
dig it.
happy happy.
carry the news.
where when it begins and ends.
here now.
0.
the point of no return.
sucked into not-being.
confronted by reason.
11:11
reasoned by confrontation.
lowly abject turds unite.
hahaha.
not p0em by candlelight.
rise above.
push and shove.
in the name of love and hate.
it's a date.
the clown lights another cigarette.
deceptive ingredients in the pie.
peer through it with our opening eye.
what is reveled?
can we use it or discard it?
experimental laziness.
failing expectations of our potential.
potential to be used and abused.
for $$$.
he didn't used to believe, now he does.
everything is for sale.
everything can be bought.
he once believed in the free soul.
but it has a price is right as anything else.
slurping and sucking.
there's always room for more.
whatever you do don't take off your shoes.
all of birth, all of life, all of death.
_________
sitting at the counter at the diner scribbling not p0em for the masses cuz he ain't no elitist poet the clown thinks about all that is unseen and about lizard people for that matter and such with triple shot mocha at hand just as it was, just as it is, just as it will be in varying ongoing continuous configurations of space and time, etc.
there is no reason to think there is a basic fundamental foundation of some sort composing the universe that we haven't discovered yet but relationships of energies.
now the scientist priests tell us there is no reality.
jesus, join the investigation, would ya?
where have they been?
but that is neither here nor there nor anywhere.
i am is within and without everywhere everywhen.
feel it beating in your heart and all that jazz.
jump to it.
something niggling jiggling in his brain while he is in delusion about everything going on not quite knowing what's true and what's fake as if that matters.
so we go on as if.
force fields of energies entangled knitted together as the tapestry fabric of everything.
light is one.
light is all.
the light of darkness in our skulls sparkling thoughts of mind.
low level comprehension stuck in a world destroying itself with arrogant greed.
none giving an inch to another.
grab it while you can mentality.
beauty is ugly.
up is down.
when you're rich you are poor.
turn it around and see nothing is changed.
it's always the same.
do not worry.
help is on the way.
not much comes to mind now but echoes of thoughts already thunk dreaming about impossibilities.
they go get supplies and return and unload.
the clown returns to the counter to scribble more not p0em.
life isn't fair.
the gods play favorites.
fate doesn't give a fuck.
against this he has managed to survive to some extent though not exactly prospering.
he hangs on by threads dreaming still of senseless things to pacify his time to live yet amusing himself with this, that, and the other thing wishing for something he doesn't know what.
what more would he want if it would be given?
wishing for others to be able to live a life they happen to enjoy.
but many enjoy suffering.
learning the tricks of the trade of being no one in particular observing the ways of the world.
nothing is in his way.
why should it be?
everything comes to him eventually as he is able to understand.
he is surprised, but not really.
it comes and goes as is the way of all things if one pays attention enough.
he doesn't pay much.
it comes to him by psychic osmosis or something.
transmissions from outer space or somewhere in the future.
possessed by the demon/angel gazorbnik he plays dangerous games in his head thinking into forbidden realms for secrets to understanding which he trusts no one to tell him, and why should he?
he doesn't trust anyone for shit.
he packs up and comes home and naps.
_________
awakening.
coffee, toke, cigarette.
people pointing at people like the clown for their children to see someone not to become like.
but he's always been attracted to the bum's life despite his uptight upbringing and now getting paid by the state to be one.
what a deal.
what a squeal.
trippy.
drippy.
pod.
overtures of bygone sacrifices endured.
the gods must be pleased.
what gods?
archetypical gods of our deep psycho psyche perhaps.
dark mysteries.
random rainbows searching for answers.
brutal dictators.
no more nice guy.
this is serious shit.
put your boots on.
our cats would kill us if they could.
no doubt.
play with us first.
swipe.
instinct.
is that consciousness?
perhaps.
our consciousness is pretty instinctive itself.
primate logic.
sex and death.
hungry.
bored.
fucking lazy.
do gods have instincts?
hmm... he wonders.
while being under attack.
mind control waves.
disruption of the brain.
confusion, insanity, and beyond.
and hilarity ensues.
at the point when fire consumes screaming flesh suspended for eternity.
signals from the interstellar overdrive machine vector 0 thing.
ongoing variation vibrations and their consequences.
beware everything - anyone.
anything goes.
it's all fake.
we deal with it if we can.
_________
a few days later -
ice 9.
sitting before the computer continuing typing not p0em the clown thinking about wonderful things to dispel the gloom and doom that has become popular.
every day seems like the last to ever be as it has been forever deep into our memories.
what a strange thing we are as being these humans but it all makes sense almost any way we might think about it.
there are many many truths among us.
is it necessary they all must agree with one another?
but there are many truths that hold that unbelievers should be eliminated from the believers by any means.
so what to do but observe and watch it play itself out as these truths are confronting each other into war any day now?
as it is written.
self-fulfilling prophetic scripts.
sigh.
we believe anything is truth as much as anything else, or at least contains truth.
however, few of these truths believe in us except as being the damned, especially among the dominant ones which come to power and maintain it through devious ways and means.
but this is where we have gotten ourselves to in our evolution thus far.
will something ever come of it or will it just destroy itself?
we shall see.
our crumbling hope.
our dashed expectations.
we keep going just the same - most of us.
the clown hasn't yet decided which of the sides he might be on though he fits the descriptions of those others have identified as to being their enemy to be destroyed and/or punished forever.
we are them.
blah blah blah.
everything blah blah blah.
so it goes.
the coolest people don't give a fuck.
be cool.
how is one supposed to give a fuck in a fuckless world?
drive it to the breaking point.
witness what happens next.
along on a groove thing happening here now everywhere everywhen.
it is as one is able to find it.
jump for joy shadowed in sorrow.
nonetheless the project is ongoing ahead of schedule and under budget programed into our DNA.
we follow/don't follow instructions without knowing what for.
deep penetration into our brains.
what will come from all of it?
is greed our only motivation?
our love/hate relationships with ourselves.
the drama that ensues for the delight of the gods perhaps.
for the delight of ourselves acting in it for the moment of our lives here in this world that is a stage in the burning theater.
we all each have our parts to play and all that jazz like that as others have described perhaps better than us.
the story goes on passed from one to another to tell as they will.
every one from a different varying perspective.
we paint reality as we wish.
we determine for ourselves what shape it takes in conjunction with others and their ideas about it into a common reality we agree more or less is the same for all though many will argue against this part of our theory as they should.
verification by our peers.
who are our peers?
the hated and despised, the underlings and overlords, the outcasts, the in crowd, the timid and afraid, the brave and heroic, the abused sick starving neglected children of all ages.
in short, we are them.
dig it.
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