part 16 -

what now?
what now that 2+2=cow? [void where when prohibited by law and just plain common sense]

you had to be there. and you were there but not here, except you were here cuz everywhere is here. what demarcation line divides here from there? does there even exist? does here?
don't think about that.

think about imagining being on a beach of an island in the eye of a storm raging on an otherwise calm sea.
the sea is humanity.
we watch the waves rolling in and washing out again all in motion not in motion.
everything in cycles we imagine never repeating quite the same ever. the difference might be just a lone particle out of place than it was a moment ago. or something like that.
is there such thing as a lone particle? is there such thing as particles, period?
the wise guys tell us they've seen evidence of them using very sophisticated and expensive technology we could never match to conduct our own experiments to verify. we need to trust and have faith in an elite of peers whose main concern is protecting their high positions more than anything resembling truth or such.
haha - when have we heard that story before? always.

are we clear yet? haha.
the clown thinks he should walk a bit now it's stopped raining awhile.
he decides not yet. he doesn't feel up to it at the moment.
the sun might even come out.
today is perhaps like no other day before it or after. would we be able to tell if it was or will be? is there past and/or future? whatever.

he needs to clean the toilet. he should take out recycling. he should sweep and mop kitchen floor.
later, baby.

he worries too much. he lightened up on anxiety meds cuz he was a bit foggy-headed. it cleared up his head but made him feel more anxious, but not as much gut wrenching as it was before. full on angst thing. who needs that shit, even though it might be reality?
6@2

he thinks about 0. he can't quite figure out yet what it is about 0 that intrigues him. he looked it up once and learned interesting facts about its use and origins around the globe (or surface) of the earth in various disciplines and such but not what he is necessarily seeking about it which he does not exactly know at this point.
maybe nothing - maybe 0.
he's hungry.
he opts for a granola bar.

he writes not to convince nor to interest anyone. he writes for himself to think and feel thoughts and feelings that otherwise tend to be all over the place.
and he writes to confuse those who need confusing. confusion is good for the heart mind soul of anyone.
but be careful. confusion's not for amateurs. start perhaps with small doses and work your way up, or down or sideways or whatever as the case may be - haha.
spin the wheels, baby. let the magick do its thing all over you until you're confused as fuck. then figure it out from there, if you can.

he naps.

awakening to a cigarette in a world going down a shit hole with all these alpha-people competing to determine about who's gonna end up in charge at the expense of all and everybody else.
idiots.

the next day -

11:11
mostly anytime the clown does something someone tells him it's wrong. he goes on doing it anyway until he finally figures out they're right. then he still keeps doing it.
what's wrong with him anyway?
he doesn't get it.
but why should he? everybody else is plumb crazy. he's glad he's not one of them. we are them. he's maybe the only one who gets it - maybe...
more coffee, another toke, one more cigarette.
cooking eggs and toast for his baby.
that's one thing he does that isn't wrong, except to a vegan. but fuck them.
he makes himself a pastrami and swiss and red onion sandwich with mayo and generic spicy brown mustard on 8 grain bread.

who doesn't know more than him and us? but we know enough to mostly stay outta trouble. that's important. that and the grace of our gazorbnik has saved our ass many a times.
he ponders having chocolate fudge brownie ice cream.
not now.

pet the kitty.
and, yes, much of this is redundant. so what? tell someone who cares.
he lights another cigarette.
the sea under a silver full moon reflecting from the waves in crazy patterns that could probably be mathematically worked out, except not really. who would bother?
and each pattern of zillions forever is over and done in a moment. who has that instantaneous amount of time to accurately measure and calculate?
these and many more questions in his head at once. how does he answer them all? with gazorbnik, that's how.
gazorbnik, the skeleton key to the universe and beyond - everything beyond never beginning never ending infinity.
he pets the kitty and she bites him.

lovely puppets all in a row.
he hits his inhaler and a mentholated cough drop to help him keep breathing awhile more.
lovely puppets taken out and shot.
lovely puppets shouldn't have tried to speak their minds.
oh well.

when this world comes to its reason and prosperity grows for everyone to their share of the spoils the earth abundantly supplies we gladly accept with reverence for nature not against it as once was our practice before this enlightened age of those who finally learned their lesson.
keep dreaming, baby.

another cigarette.
the clown cuts his hair for the summer.
he never had a job that required a haircut.
he never had much of a job - pretty much just grunt work.
but that's all behind him now. despite all the bullshit he was retired (psychological discharge) by 40. not too shabby for some stupid clown. there's smarter people than him his age still working away.
he's been fortunate for one who is mad - haha.
soon to be someone who is dead - hahaha.

he sleeps.