boogers 666.

for lunch he may decide to have a bratwurst.
as usual he is distracted, though by what he does not know. some twinkling tingling passing thing in his brain or another. a cigarette. to be sent to a planet where the sole purpose is to figure out how to escape. what a bizarrely interesting game the gods play to amuse their time being immortal. that could be the only way it makes sense. but there are no gods. there is only the absurd. but how absurd is it that there are gods? spin, baby, spin. clean cat box, clean toilet, take out recycling.
another toke. another cigarette. fat black cat playing with catnip mouse. a pause in the rain. he should go for a walk. maybe he will.
and he does and taking out recycling too. he needs to rest and catch his breath opening the window for cool outside air. and he does some exercises for his back. another cigarette.

he bumbles stumbles along on pathless paths perhaps only around in spiraling circles never repeating the same. the i am centered at the point of 0. blow out the candle and achieve nirvana. and all that jazz. kick out the jams.
a lifetime of discipline and meditation. he always fell asleep. but there is always a way. he wandered off to find it.
now he realizes and understands how it may be, though it doesn't need to be. he is quite prepared to being wrong. is being wrong such a terrible thing? does it deserve eternal punishment by an angry god that seems could use some cosmic anger management, or for those who invented god perhaps?
he laughs at that business and the poor suckers who
fall for it though it is not that funny cuz they spread it around like a plague among us.
somebody ought to do something about that!
haha.
who is it?
is it you?

jesus coming to straighten out that fucking mess.
the sun kinda comes out. maybe another walk? we shall see. right now, a cigarette. more coffee.
the noise of lawnmowers in the spring air. it's that time of year again. mowing down forests before they can get started. good idea, people.
but everyone does it cuz everyone else does it. and it's the law in many cases - and big business.
oh well, so much for that.
dumb fucks.

as far as the clown is concerned he lives on bizarro world. everything backwards upside down inside out, and not in a good fun way. there is something demented about it.
he naps.

awakening.
a toke, a cigarette.
it's medication time!

not always believing 1/2 of what he thinks the clown continues typing not p0em for no good reason like an 18 wheeler out on the desert highway or something. art schmart, give him something real. if they only knew, but they don't. it's pointless.
incomprehensible realities surrounding us beyond our imagination. is our reality as incomprehensible to them? other beings we do not recognize existing in sideways dimensions and vice versa us to them. dull and humdrum to the max. where's the party at, daddio?

the new masters urging us to rise up against the old masters. we obey. we are successful. off with their heads. there is great celebration until we gradually come to realize nothing has changed.
that's where the party's at.
wear your pink and purple hats like rats off a sinking ship to drown into the depths of an endless sea, the sea being humanity. this is how we are free?
yes, many believe it's true. we'll deal with them before we're through.

we have plans to overcome everything they have done. what fun! this is the one time we will succeed. everybody has their need. so many minds to feed with swill as many will, but they will fail.
all hail the new regime! it will come as if in a dream. they will confess and come clean. we will create a new machine. it will serve the masses not the master. our steady progress will be faster than any before have come to pass knocking them back on their collective ass.
no, none of that will be. that is not our reality. the individual will decide what is right and what is wrong. they're the ones who sing our song. to no one they will belong. their struggles have been long in coming. now they are off and running. nowhere to go but be here now. they realize 2+2=cow. the world will all go to hell, but the individual will be doing swell. no one knows who they are. they are as if a distant star. they do not display outward signs but within they create odd beautiful designs. it's a secret revolution no one knows which way the wind blows.

this is one of many of the clown's fundamental errors. do not believe a word. go where there is truth. we dare you. silence your wayward thoughts that led you astray. you know what we mean. take your soma and dance that sweet dance. everything is alright - uptight, clean outta sight.

the prevalent distaste for traditional values coming upon the shores of tomorrow's dream when nothing makes any sense. a lost cause. no applause comes from the house of the burning theater. rotten tomatoes are hurled just like times forgotten by the drooling crowds of folks asking how long this can continue.
so much to do and nothing done, the clown is having too much fun at the expense of others who walk with pride. proud to be the ones in charge or the wannabes. all can suck it. he wants no part of it when he was born into that class he couldn't get out fast enough down down down he went to end up here while they are chained to lives they do not comprehend what for but carry on as if.

the missiles launched are a beautiful sight to see up close as long as they are aimed the other way. such awesome death and destruction awaits those who it doesn't matter if they are innocent or guilty to those who order others to push the buttons as they themselves have been ordered to do from the top of the pyramid of command.
see how easy it is?
now try to stop it.
without doing the same in return to defeat it.
march until your shoes fall off. chant until you lose your voice. see how easy it is?

despair and doom. happy are the days passing us by. the clown laughs at nothing as the mad are required to do sitting before the computer typing not p0em as dusk begins.
it's medication time!
glory be!