part 44 (8)

we forget ourselves as we have wanted to awhile ago now and then unable to quite decide one way or another to go without going and all that cosmic trash the wise guys tell us we are wrong so we nevermind them and move our own way through the world of changes on our own.
sharp broken tooth scraping sore on flexing tongue - ouch!
big $$$ politics overdrive situation more more more.
make 'em squeak for their dinner as the gods require for their amusements. and this needs to be truth for the humble and worried among us aplenty. we are quite tired of this vacancy. we have better things to do than participate in some ancient tribal death rituals once more again.
it's taken all day to have written as far as this with naps and distractions along the way when his imagination flies away and nothing more matters in this life.

the next day -
game show tv. all the excitement as the numbers climb higher and the challenges become harder and luck the more elusive. the bright lights and the pressure is on. pick your winner now. spin the wheels one more time.
it's all real.

dumb fuck. the clown is anxious that he has screwed up again about something he doesn't know what. someone will be sure to come around and tell him though. they always do. he is fortunate that way. others love telling him that he is wrong. they seem to love telling anyone and everyone that they are wrong. cuz they know truth and all that business.
it's like the games children play on the playground and about as meaningful as that, except adults play for real. they torture and kill those who displease them that they justify with made up patriotic religions.
they do not learn. they feel they have nothing to learn. they know all things. just ask, they will tell you. there is so much they know that you need to know they know.

but we fly past that and their little worldly minds occupied with themselves. we dream about what nonsense they cannot imagine imagining.
eat the rich.
a butterfly lightly landing on a daisy as the clown continues not p0em about what he might possibly understand about the made up stuff others are thinking.
being right in the middle of some stupid genius dystopian dada confuse a cat nonsense. what you see is not what you're gonna get. what you get is what you believe you deserve. don't get feelings mixed up with facts - or vice versa. don't get your head mixed up with a hole in the ground. it is not always the abyss you are looking for, babe.
yes, forget. we must forget.

it seems at times everything is a victory against us, but we are still fighting against the tides, the tides beginning to change in our direction.
this should cease to be. it will cease to be. we will remember it no more. everything constantly at war. as it should be? action/reaction yin yang thingie around around.
a spinning wheel at war turning on its axis.
wait - what?

every piece of the puzzle fits, if you force it hard enough. it breaks. then we might choose among the broken shards which we may wanna use keeping in mind the pieces left over scattered around on the floor. everything has a place and time to be.
the fat black cat laying on the desk clawing and biting his hand as he types not p0em report to the committee that is never answered. there is probably no one home or something like interstellar transport that takes a zillion years to arrive at its destination nevermind a return trip.
who is supposed to pay for it? us? we don't have that kinda cash hanging around. we're just a buncha state sponsored bums. we're at the end of the line of the gravy train. we are what we were instructed to be, or to rebel against those instructions - same difference.
in the doldrums. down the toilet. laughing with the gods.

we write about our own experience not of others we know not. we do not tell others what is their experience and what it means and we expect the same in return but rarely get it. of course that is a lie. we do not state  truth as long as we might get away with it. why should we? does anyone else?
we are all liars. that is the truth we state now. it may or may not be true. at least that statement we might make in truth=====?
or else.

it's rather pointless besides itself laughing splashing in the sea.
the sea is humanity.
a new direction for the world one thing after another. let's see how far it will go before it all comes down like many predict.
1-2-3-go!
what does that mean?
3-2-1-stop!

high energy herky jerks come flipping down the street adjacent to easy street. everybody who knows anything avoids them cuz they take up so much time wanting shit from ya - useless shit.
but that's not the problem, is it?
the problem is other people putting us down like they got something on us but nothing we don't allow them to have.
it's kinda funny actually.
what?

but then everything is funny according to our theory of everything which is unimaginably complex yet awfully simple at once. and the clown wonders that he doesn't know what a cookie is. how could he have missed that? what a buffoon - haha.
he decides to sleep.

and awakening.
and it's medication time after he gets coffee and calls the doctor about his puffy feet and shortness of breath.
z
cinnamon chewing stick followed by a mentholated cough drop followed by the doctor calling back and the doorbell ringing at the same time followed by the fat black cat hopping up on the desk.
meanwhile the coffee's gotten cold.
and how does rationalogic explain this sorta organized confusion except by dismissing it. yet it happens. it happens most of the time yet is entirely unpredictable.
and now we wait for the doctor to call back at some point - if ever.
the horror stories we are to believe everybody in the conflict tell about the others getting their way which we must pledge not to allow them to do, or else.
the clown feels stupid.
the clown feels yanked around.
you have nothing to lose but your chains, they all tell us.
everything is alright now.
bend over and salute.

noon o'clock, time to hit the inhaler.
breathe.
suck on a chewing stick.
whatever it takes.
a peanut butter burrito.
a banana.
a nap.

an awakening.
coffee.
420
hate crime 2000.
the clown is alone most of the time. everybody else sleeping. flexing his swollen feet. he sits all the time mostly. he tries to decide between this and that and the other thing to no avail. his baby now watching her tv. why does he need to decide anything? deciding who's right and who's wrong as if there is a difference. it's all lies from every side plastered over with propaganda. who wants to deal with any of it? and that's how they get us. bog down our brains with useless fake information until we give up thinking about it, until we surrender.
and he is clueless as a baby lamb. he hates this world for the most part. what good is it? all competition and shit that no matter what we are part of it and cannot get ourselves untangled from it. it is part of our very nature and nurture and indoctrination. it merges in with our mind until we believe it is true and real.
how far do we need to go insane for this to happen? but it doesn't feel like insanity. we must believe ourselves sane or it doesn't work. not if we are aware that we are being tricked - tricking ourselves.
and the show must go on.