part 41

juvenile discretion weeping on the rocks far below anything surrendering with the dawn the clown typing not p0em cuz he ain't no poet, and don't he know it. that's a fact. ya can't beat that.
a fact of experience. he knows what is and what ain't in the long run. don't make him decide for or against you, you might be surprised what the results could be.
let's just keep it simple as always.
we are prepared to disentangle all evidence and memory to the contrary. nothing is forbidden, everything is permitted. this is the starting off point where when everything is possible. in with the bees. can we trust them now?
what?

funsville. a universe created, maintained, and destroyed for our pleasure and amusement. why should it not be so? no reason we can determine if so or not. are we not gods now walking the face of the earth as it pleases us to do so.
so much talking about it but not enough doing about it. those were the days when the freaks came out to try to save us until they found out there is nothing nor no one to save. too bad for us. we were born and raised with bad brains. we should not be, but here we are anyway all acting like the world owes us a living.
dancing in the garden. imagine that. audacious intents. sucking in information we cannot judge if it is good or evil like we are supposed to be able to do according to the psychological profiles we are compared to marked normal. we are not normal. we won't be normal no matter how we are pushed into it. why does everyone have to be normal? that is how normal people think it should be. be like us they all tell us. is that normal behavior?
it's normal behavior for normal people. they love the collective. they distrust the individual. they want you to join them.
sorry - not interested.

the normal people are those causing the problems in the world by being so fucking normal - normal this, normal that, normal the other thing on and on.
assimilation. the stinky underfoot things they have to say about one another with smiles. each hating their lives but who are stuck and can't get out. the clown's been there and done that with the normal people. normal people are nowhere. they don't know where anything is. anything else is not normal. dig?
the collected artifact. admired but never read.
reading is too difficult a process. who has time? some isolated group of radical poets undercovers.
why is it assumed that the few manipulate control over the many? shouldn't it be otherwise?
an orb of what is left of our consciousness placed in orbit around 0 the beginning ending of everything. the clown is lost in a confusing world beyond his comprehension babbling world words of his new found innocence laughing to hell and back as if it's all the same.

an everyday experience of joy and low sodium diet with us vs them mentality claiming the upper hand with vengeance for all as all would have it.
can we live with love? can we live without it?
do we know what love is? is there love without sex?
silly questions enough for us to ask with dirty teeth signifying there might be something amiss a deserted ship. careful as you step.
he thinks about having done it like others have done it, imagining some weird scene in our hearts and minds to play out upon the world stage once in a lifetime. it does nothing else. there is no purpose. it is gazorbnik for no practical reason whatsoever that we can think of.
what is what?

shout into the abyss. no sound returns. nothing to comfort or scold us. any meaning is an invention of our minds. this is where we escape to. this is where we escape from. becuz. why not?
simple meanings exposed for all to attempt to understand that previously have no meaning.
our favorite gas station is closed it is sadly reported by our patrols back to those of us who rarely leave the house.
there's prescriptions ready at the pharmacy.
the clown has thought so many thoughts unconnected to any sort of logic that they are nearly unrecognizable in his head programmed by nature, nurture, and indoctrination to recognize only that which has economic purpose.
one person looks into a forest and see abundance of nature. another person looks into a forest and sees board feet of lumber. who is right and which is wrong? stinky gloppy tangy cat box smell. let's go insane around here, baby. begin by rocking around the clock. does anyone remember beginnings of anything? has anybody ever? are we dreaming? face mecca while you shit. pronounce the holy words from your heart doing your sacred duty. go in peace.

an armed society is a polite society.
long may it wave burning up on the hill high higher highest. that was the feeling of the old days before the future came to town. a backward time we lost our way. can we ever recover? recover what from who? if we only knew then what we know now. but that's the trick of it, isn't it?
the clown scorns the world as he has come to know it. the plot thickens. he fell for all of it. he didn't have a chance. the whole revolution of it for nothing he didn't want to begin with. what a dupe. all a rock and roll fantasy outta his mind.

what he did want to begin with is to be left alone. he dislikes annoying people and all people are annoying. only interested in me me me they seek out you you you. they want something from you, for you to verify their identity they have had stolen from them replaced with a temporary replacement identity, or 2.

identity for all, and to all a good night.
don't let the bedbugs bite.
everything has been stated already. does that mean it's truth? it can hardly matter less to us. seeing words vertical and diagonal instead of horizontal. what's the prognosis, doc? tell us what you believe is true.
slight instances of visions on/off in our brains.
can it be explained?
neptunian love children.
children being the gods of everything everywhere everywhen. the sacrifice of self to self. what does it mean to the common schmo? and there are so many of us. those who wander unknowing, by the millions if not billions. the schmucks who fell for the whole damn thing at once and for all. it's too late for us now.
it's all been a con game. it's all been fake. now we awaken to that fact. no one's coming to save us unless we save ourselves. but how is that done at this point? who is ready and able to disentangle themselves from it? what does that entail?
it's medication time.
he wonders if he wants to lay down for some period of time, and he decides that he does.

awakening (but not really).
something like it but not the same. a chill up the clown's spine making him twitch a moment feeling briefly naked as a bean hearing a laugh and a scream.
what does it all mean?
we don't particularly care.
we just do it as it goes.
we are a menace to ourselves and others down the line.
we screw things up really fine.
but somebody needs to play our role, swinging from the gallows pole.
for every game there must be losers to make their victories mean anything which ultimately are dust in the wind.
this few seem to understand it takes someone wise to perceive through the lies.
we laugh and laugh at their profound ignorance they have yet to discover blinded by the light they believe is revelation.
we have no truth but the truth of being alone as those living the solitary life might find it being unknown to those following the crowds. but knowing this truth will do one no good. one becomes a stranger in a strange land - a universal soldier for someone else's profit throughout the universe. this is the focus of our rage against the machine of our oppression.

thoughts of suicide bring us to the pinnacle of understanding ourselves. who ventures close to this is perhaps a fool wandering aimlessly where angels fear to tread. we know nothing. stringing words together like glittering beads that become meaningless.