part 53

bamboozled again.
what is it this time around?
liquid head alternate reality.
drunk on thin ice.
global economy dependent on growth.
time is $$$.
the future looms leaning on a street light combing its hair and smiling with secrets.
flavor for one.
diced out, baby.
feeling free as we wanna be up a tree.
relay.
something moving.
something grooving.
all over the world dividing wheat from the chaff, as they like to say alone in the dark to themselves.
there is nothing but what it is.
metaphor is meaning.
god the father.
our theory of everything includes all religious ideals putting them in a blender and giving it all a spin to see what comes out how.
it's alright.
what could go wrong at this point besides everything we might imagine to expect from our implanted cultural indoctrinations and such?
living in the 21st century woods, what's left of it.
everywhere is pretty much crowded as heck.
worship our gods elsewhere - in the parking lot at the mall.
is there anything purely anything in this world?
what has not been polluted somehow?
our temples in ruins.
but why do we think purity?
why do we think pollution?
what concepts are these we hold onto past their time and meaning from the ancient abyss of our language?
deconstructional dissonance of mind over matter.
look what we do in terms of these two words alone.
in purifying we pollute.
nevermind.
this is beyond you.
go back to your games to play shoot 'em up.
the clown had been unaware that there is a rule not to touch the queen.
what?
who are these people?
are they people?
are they truly shape shifting reptilian aliens as many suspect?
or monkeys just like us?
and all the people who worship them.
they will be turned against us before too long.
they will be told we are the enemy.
maybe we are.
they will believe it.
they will act on it.
it's so much easier for them that way to feel it's not themselves but those above who magically control them to do their deeds.
future freedom with robotic police that maintain civil order, or something like that.
faking it.
wishing wishes that never come true.
don't forget to smile.
practical 0-time emptiness.
the clown is down wearing a frown with a crown on his head thinking about being dead?
stupidity knows no bounds.
the worship of space without knowing what space is or not.
the faults of humans, the faults of ourselves.
fundamental to our theory of everything is change.
0 cannot remain 0 forever.
waves and waves of particles when we observe.
everything exists when it is being observed.
all that can be observed is changing.
the static is invisible.
monsters in the closet.
be sure it's not just a mirror.
gullible understanding.
to have your mind be blank.
what's important to remember at this stage may not be identity oof who we are supposed to be.
distinction of this phenomena is no_longer_important to those who know less watching on tv.
succumb to mindless belief shouting in the streets.
justice is prepared for them.
just shoot us now.
but we expect no such mercy.
heart rate low. oxygen ok.
this is all internal individual logic/illogic thing moving and grooving shaking it down and don't mean a thing to a busy bee.
the "enemy" tries to escape disguised as women.
who knows what anymore?
haha.
is there a war on?
when is there not?
is it for us to judge?
no, but we do anyway.
holy holy roly poly.
when the gods come to the stream to drink.
we watch them frolic splashing each other before vanishing back into the vanishing forest back into time itself of ages past.
tick tock.
tock tick.
having explained everything the wise guy sits back down while the other wise guys ponder the calculations and conclusions and wonder if this could be it.
and what if it is it?
what next after they come to realize they know everything there is to be known?
how is anything else possible?
what meaning would anything have if not applicable to the final result?
rest in peace.
departing souls taking away the idea of ourselves, realized or not.
no more body.
no more face.
no more name.
no more mind.
life is depressing.
is there no hope left?
it doesn't seem so to us.
we can always be wrong.
driven by demons into the twilight.
therapy without change is just jerking off.
being honest about oneself as much as one can be and getting shit cuz others don't agree with it.
fuck them?
everything in the world is dying it seems.
perhaps not.
not everything will die.
where there is death there is living.
unless...

part 30

fuck.
integral temperament rotting from the inside with disgusting oozing filth running down its leg staggering into town drunk with power.
look at the butterflies.
think only good happy thoughts for once.
cute kittens playing in the daisies.
death to our enemies.
it's all distraction from each other.
think.

will this be the end?
there is no end.
eternity is here now.
abundant sacred rituals in the face of danger for those who believe in that sorta thing.
as the clown continuing not p0em for no one comes to understand what the nature of everything might be - or not.
it's all in how we present ourselves.
he presents himself as someone who couldn't care less.
dress for success.
there is no success like failure.
realizing one need not do shit no more for nobody.
just hanging around on easy street.
abstract minds aplenty.
people go go go.
don't stop to look and listen.
wham!

it wears him out just watching it.
somebody must be responsible.
is it him?
responsible with all his irresponsibility.
oh no!
what will they think up next?
he'd rather no $$$ than a job like that.
and $$$ does grow on trees.
go print up some more of these.
$$$ sucking up anything of value and turning it into piles of garbage archeologists will dig through looking for signs of life.
nothing but existence.

their war machine keeps turning churning the living into dead while we go shopping.
one would think that we would think which we do but what is to be done?
line up to be shot down in the street?
vote in elections they always win no matter what side they're on?
they are everywhere.
get ahead people at any cost to others.
for us it's a kafkaesque scheme with surreal intent.
the devil's in the details of our subjective opinions of facts.
if it were to have beginning it begins at 0, yes?
we do not know what 0 is.
it cannot be detected except by its absence nor measured by any countable units infinitely large or infinitesimally small.
it's as though it doesn't exist, which it does not.
it is by its nonexistence it is known.
and all such like that and then some.

everything happens at 0.
here and now eternal place and time.
understand.
this is heaven.
chanting the names of gods atop a rubbish heap what's left of our endeavors.
this is our temple.
we may run and hide in the hills but not escape the increasing encroachment.
nature doesn't stand a chance.
we turn the fertile into desert everywhere we might go to get away.
we are long past being one with the earth until we die and become ashes and dust.
but even then we poison the earth with our bodies.
pure and clean were always illusion we destroyed everything to achieve.
now 0 will swallow us whole like a whore sucking cock.
and still it will not be the end of us.
just what the fuck?
where's the good happy thoughts in any of this?
everything at once.
ka-blam!

all engines full ahead.
here we go again.
too bad we need to fall.
decompose to feed new mutations.
do we want it all to be predictable or the mystery to remain?
good is relative, happy is illusion.
it is good the clown is happy cleaning the cat box like he needs to.
you just need a little LSD.

the things one never knows.
remain in control.
change at will.
love.
the project moves "forward" as planned.
direction is aimless.
purpose is pointless.
the corporate takeover is nearly complete.
citizen/consumer#: thp160-p
may you serve it well.
don't forget the ketchup.

everything has rules.
everything has that deviant to the rules.
all is necessary otherwise nothing happens.
maybe nothing is supposed to happen.
perfect state.
no mistakes.
0?

when the earth moves again.
nothing is left untouched unpolluted.
this world is a disgrace.
the clown used to believe in an age to come when all this becomes unnecessary and abandoned for the wild.
now he's not too sure.
an age of destruction.
dumb as fuck.
but as long as those wave their burning flags up on the hill everything is alright.
it's ok.

though everything comes crashing down.
it's ok.
though billions die.
it's ok.
evolving transformation.
we can go along with it but cannot control except it is a direct result of our collective actions.
everything is alright.
it's ok.

the others do what we pay them to do.
what do we need but next to nothing?
what do they need but next to everything?
we give them all we have to give but they  always want more.
we invent more.
we invent the project.
the object of the project is the project.
what would we be without it?
happy playing bongos in the dirt.
no one telling us we shouldn't be.
life is good.
it's ok.

but people have to get on each other telling them what is what and not what.
use your fucking imagination for once, would ya?
go away.
it's ok.

but many have so much poison running through them they cannot stop themselves.
poison ideas.
truth rotten to the core of their beliefs.
the mindless mind of the masses we are supposed to have faith in.
everything is alright.
it's ok.

nothing is free.
not the birds nor especially the bees.
wolves? hahaha...
prisoners of our survival mechanisms.
we can do nothing other than what we do.
nature nurture indoctrination.
even the controllers are controlled.
it's supposed to be this way.
everything is alright.
it's ok.

ok?

page 1 of 1 | words: 0

the clown smoking a cigarette gazes at the blank page on the computer screen.
he should leave it at that, but zen is for squares.
pet the kitty.
he needs to sleep having to drive to get supplies for the diner tomorrow early and now it is late.
a few hours will do. he napped a lot today.
he continues typing not p0em.
how does it seem to be a cartoon in a magazine?
out with the old, in with the new.
23-skidoo.
wild wacky world.
he's glad he's not part of it anymore.
wasted space.

it's a joke, but nobody's kidding around.
it's serious business anymore. gotta know what's up, baby. beat surrealism was once a gas, now it's flat on its ass.

it was sorta fun while it lasted, even the scary parts where we mostly scared ourselves. what's to leave behind? echoes of ourselves regurgitating repeating clichés of useless information in some old databank thinking we are alive still. will we be in heaven?

sorting through random possibilities to imagine possibly being possible. a rabbit hole? perhaps. but so many interesting things happen. what else is there to do until disaster strikes?
light another cigarette.

now that our theory of everything has collapsed in on itself once more into a plenum singularity of 0 as we imagine it, we continue being amazed by our good fortune.
a gift of the gods.
forces beyond our present comprehension yet being expressed in the physical world as we are coming to understand it.
fear not.
this is a great blessing - with a curse.

do what you like. make sure you got it right. no sense wasting time.
maybe that's what this world is for. flesh without sin and all that noise. don't forget love - that mythological emotion. but don't forget hate. but don't hate the corporatestate.
go along like everything's alright in a world all your own. nevermind what the neighbors say, go outside and play.

he sleeps.

sitting at the counter at the diner continuing not p0em thinking about stuff that happens to come to mind for whatever reasons why or why not, as it comes and goes like everything else in the universe supposedly according to some theories people have that we incorporate into our theory of everything along with most anything else included we might feel fits in, the clown yawns then sneezes while the server counts the $$$ in their bank to begin the day.

somebody singing and playing the blues on the jukebox followed by some noise rap thing. as always the clown wonders about everything he might imagine being as much as he is able considering the circumstances being as they are which can make it difficult sometimes. ganesh does not set up obstacles we cannot overcome, and if so does so for good reason.

peace.
love.
understanding.

a dream of impossible things. forget. it was so easy once upon a time. now we have other thoughts on our mind. jabbering chipmunk machine on full throttle. is there a way out? the way out is in.

and he's back from getting supplies sitting at the counter again while the van is unloaded thinking whatever about anything as stupid as it may be he works it around every which (witch) way towards a distant point of madness. but that may not be as it seems.

x-ray head dreaming reality as it never is. a passing moment of despair. thinking strange. feeling everything surrounding him as he closes his eyes breathing. everyone has the answer. the answer is their truth. the truth is their reality. the clown wants none of it. he trusts nothing he cannot imagine for himself in his own time.

what he imagines is far away from any utopian paradise he has knowledge about from their candy land fantasies. everything is dreaming about itself. we call out the names of gods without reply but the void. perhaps if we offered them $$$? gods love $$$. but do we have enough? probably not. well, fuck the gods then.

and he comes home.

hash browns, coffee, toke, cigarette.

it's the ways we are different that get us to evolve, not what is and stays the same - guru jeff.

social darwinists should take care. truth cannot be misrepresented and still work as truth. many people should take care. even us? probably. truth is a fabrication that entertains us for the moment. we make up the rules, then break them.
silly.
how is one to come to understand when everything is false pretense and lies? look at the priests in their holy costumes and you will understand.
we cannot be broken down. we are broken down. down to the ground. and by magick rising up to fly away never to return.

gashdig.
2+2=cow.
getting the hook off the stage at the burning theater. it's quite an honor. no one understands. they think they've seen it all before. perhaps they have.
he needs to pick up more medications.

0.
0 what?
0 number of whatever.
0 on a positive/negative number line. positive and negative going to infinity. is the line straight or curved?
0 is the foundation upon which everything rests.
and so?

what is 1?
1 what?
a unit of measurement.
1 width of an infinitesimal point.
1 infinity.
how can we be sure?

nevermind.

but 0 keeps nagging at his brain. he doesn't quite know what it means.
it is it.

in his next life maybe he'll concentrate more on mathematics.
it's too late now.
he's always been too lazy for the rigors of rationalogic thinking.
rather irrationalogic took him away.
took him away from himself. maybe that was a mistake.
it's too late now.
he is gone.

gone to a meadow of daisies in the forest of dreams.
far from the laughter and the screams of a mad god alone in the void inside his head.
it might be him.
he's not sure if he wants to find out.
just watching clouds drift slowly by.
should he be content? is that a danger?
he imagines all the possibilities he is constantly thinking about.
everything is such a wonder to behold experiencing it all as much as any mortal can.
will he ever find his way back here again? or will there be new adventures?
he just wants to be left alone, except on his own terms. if not, then fuck you.
he doesn't care if life has been a waste of his time. it is still sublime. he's doing fine and dandy.
he lights another cigarette.

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!

16 -

general apathy.
don't gotta do nothing.
truth doesn't matter.
coffee, toke, cigarette.
and it's medication time.
sitting before the computer hunched over the keyboard typing out not poem cuz he ain't no poet about most anything that comes to mind included in with our theory of everything.
got that?

hanging on by a fingernail.
sanity is overrated.
everything is cliché.
1 < infinity < 1.
unhinged premise from which our theory unfolds itself to a certain extent perhaps not easily understood but by few and far between among us - those who are mad enough.
don't worry.
there is no other purpose to this than to confuse the issue all the more, the issue being our state of mind vs reality as such.
there's something wrong with us.
we do not know what it might be nor necessarily care.
that may or may not be true.
thrown into an incomprehensible world full of incomprehensible people like ourselves only stranger than fiction.
the discovery of nonsense to provide some humor to the situation.
how many people must die to save the others?
hahaha.

2+2=cow - a fundamental key principle to our theory.
everything is gazorbnik after that.
gazorbnik is exactly (almost) what it might seem that it is.
think about it - if you dare.

but there is no conclusion to any of it.
how could there be?
is there any conclusion to reality?
and what does reality have to do with it?
reality does what it wants from the culmination of all our desires and fears.
that's how some theories have it, true or not true.
theories included in with our ongoing theory along with all the rest of everything.
our theory full of contradictions generated by our differing opinions about what's what and what's not what.
what is what?
that is what we would like to know.
we do not seem to come to much of any agreement about it.
we'd rather argue and fight and wage war instead.
everyone must agree with us.
we will never agree with them.
this is what it seems we nearly all agree to.
so, what's the problem?
no problem with us.
we're just putting together our theory of everything.
don't mind us.
pretend we're not here.
that's something else everyone else seems to agree on.
a world without them.
a perfect world.
we are them.

what we are beyond being them is irrelevant.
no one wants to know.
we are not useful to them - the others.
we don't want to be useful to them - being used by them.
in which case we are to be eliminated.
end of that story for now.
he gets up to take out recycling and empty the dishwasher.
then it's time for a nap.

awakening.
a cigarette after a peanut butter sandwich.
he knows he is being unreasonable - but so what?
he knows he is being irrational - but so what?
refuse.
resist.
let's go crazy.
he gets up to go out to get the mail.
wanting an uncomplicated life.
boring but never bored.
being bored is for losers.
being boring means most people go away and leave him alone.
he's got nothing.

they urged him to go become a success.
so he did.
a success at being lazy and indifferent.
coasting with the minimal amount of effort he could get away with.
but not making much $$$.
so he is not a success after all.
a broken down bum living off the state.

0 is where it's at - where it's all happening that happens to happen.
0 consciousness - the goal of many.
0 being the center of everything everywhere everywhen.
if there is a god, god is 0.
why not?

ever-present, ever-aware, ever-powerful.
what 0 and god have in common - or not.
not that it matters.
it doesn't make $$$.
what makes $$$ makes sense, everything else is nonsense - confucius (aka guru jeff aka the dadananda).
see how that circle goes around?

everything is circles inside the machine never repeating though seeming to be repeating again and again and again to the unpracticed eye open the other eye closed.
poke its eye out.
everything is circles inside his head.
a beam in his own eye.
lost are the prophets, their time has come.
what a waste of our time is the consensus of opinion.
not that it matters.
what's done is done.
we are done.

14 -

white butterfly flutters by.
a good or evil omen?
one might think one but it may be the other.
it might be neither.
it might be both.
think about the possibilities of not knowing.
think about apple pies cooling on the windowsill.
do you remember?
have you possibly forgotten?

a toke or two on the peace pipe.
finding the groove.
cruising altitude.
more coffee, another cigarette.
objects of desire.
lost paradise.
being here now contemplating our navels.
ahoy there!

boring, but never bored.
sitting at the computer continuing typing not poem about whatever about our theory of everything.
streams of consciousness.
thoughts pinned on a bulletin board.
are there possible connections or coincidences?
strings weaving reality.
reality being relative.
where when is the objective observer?
as if there could be except outside beyond space and time which how does it then exist?
other dimensional planes more refined less tangible unknown to the sensory world.
dimensions above and/or below inhabited by angels and demons and whatnot.
big deal.

everywhere the center of everything.
0 dimension all else radiates from.
the center location of the universe in the center of our brains.
or something like that.
it can be explained any number of different ways and means possible.
nevermind.

we are the crown of creation.
out of the muck and mire the jewel of the lotus.
a fabrication of imagination.
when we see it we will believe it.
but that is not the way the wise guys tell us.
we must believe to see.
as they gladly take our $$$.
hot damn.

but we the few and far between are the dreamers.
who knows who?
no one.
we are anyone anywhere anytime.
as such we are touched by madness.
we dance on a head of a pin.
if there is a god it is i am.
but there is no god.
there is nothing but an absurd universe we are thrown into for no discernible reason.
make of it what you can.

we have made for ourselves a comfortable niche providing all our simple needs to observe the world in all its glorious folly.
no one might notice our passing as it should be.
we are easily ignored without the others knowing they are doing so.
they are busy with their dramas occupying every thought every moment.
we cannot think of any reason to interrupt them.
everyone wandering about the stage of the burning theater improvising a play of habitual routines to pass the allotted time they have.
we are thus amused.

to become rich with power.
to command through one's will.
subservient to no one.
watch them struggle and fight amongst themselves to attain this position for as long as they might be able to maintain it.
and everyone else all the way down to the bottom.
it is the nature of the beast within us all.
somebody's gotta be the boss.
as long as we are willing to be bossed around.
o' happy day.

coffee and coffeecake.
a toke, another cigarette.
charging the phone for tomorrow never dies.
people wondering worrying about the state of the world.
fuck it, baby.
let it rot where it falls.
let it decompose and vanish.
breeding with life living off of it.
like waves of a sea.
continuous horizon toward infinity.
waves turning on and off along sequential locations on a curve creating waves.
it's every which way, baby.
perceive it any way one might want to or need to.
want before need?
need before want?
flip a coin into a well make a wish come true or not.
ker-plunk.
satisfaction is not guaranteed ®.
you're on your own now, baby.
come and get it.

it wants you.
it needs you.
it loves you.
it hates you.

it wants to be you.
to become you.
slime all over you.
immersed in you.

seek after the mysteries.
seek after thyself.
seek hither and thither and yon.
no path is the true path.
wander pathless paths.
explore discover understand.
or not.

discipline ourselves enough to enter into the occult realms for sale in the lobby of the burning theater after the show.
realize the possibilities.
recognize our will.
steal what suits our purpose and amusement and continuing on our merrie way toward oblivion and beyond.
dig it.

another cigarette.
the ignorant and loyal of all sides being told what they have wished to hear since forever.
the long and winding road.
excitement everlasting - until overtaken by boredom without mercy.
a deserted place in immortal time spent skipping stones on a dreadful lake.
sigh...

(to be continued...)

13 -

saved and deleted.
our sacrifices have no limitations except void where prohibited by law.
rainbow alley moon.
what is written in the good book of flies.
who can understand it?
who has ever really tried?
it remains on book shelf where everyone can see and sigh.
but that is of no consequence becuz it probably isn't true - or not.
the easy exploration of encountering propaganda in your pants.
goat gods.
political pig and butterfly.
the science of nuking a mini pizza without fits of untoward confusion beset upon us.
unexpected and inappropriate or inconvenient.
take your pick.
a staged appearance of divining occult hee haw.
can you take it?
why do you weep?
make magick happen.
no one has to know but you which witch are you.
hot dandy.

flash until tomorrow sitting at the counter at the diner in from the rain scribbling not poem into a notebook triple mocha at hand wondering about the millions of bees they are killing with their convoluted logic denial at war with nature when it is themselves to blame he laughs about cuz there ain't nothing else for the common idiot to do while the greedy rule the world.
flabbergasted epiphany all of suddenly at once fading fast back into the gray dim.
something like nothing.
something like everything.
cheesecake.
cobweb mind uneasy treetop predicaments random consciousness being here now for no particular reason.
to experience.
to feel.
to think.
to wonder.

leftover nightmares crawling toward the doors of perception locked against the intrusion into seductive occult ceremonies devised to make $$$ for the few at the expense of the many as is usually always the case with everything as it should be since the masses do not understand subtle objectives but worship noise at large the louder the better.
he don't know what everyone tells him he ought to know which is ok with him cuz he sees them all not going nowhere he wishes to go anywhere without them being around all smart ass and shit like they are no matter what.
sketches of skewed reality fantasy into nevermind thing limited consciousness happening words like ice picks formulating redundant ideas of fear unknowing rebuke from masters of ignorance pride falling on their faces putting on robes dragging across the floor waiting for inspiration.
this is nowhere else it might happen to be fighting against ourselves.

lovely mittens scatterbrained rambling nonsense in an attempt to for a consensus of thought forming a plan of escape driving rhythms proceed toward broken mirrors arching overhead along the speedway searching for anything to bend the mind from itself to the extent of whatever he knows limited by feeling unconcerned about knowing anything as not much interests him much at anytime the circus comes to town or whatever else might be bored with conversations about the absurd which has come to overtake him as it will be now so much is meaningless to him observing from a distance of mind as others pride themselves to be corrupting influences just to be so laughing at nothing he understands to well to be amused except with certain sly grin as he imagines torturing them slowly to death but why bother when he could be sleeping.

farting profusely once outside the door to smoke thinking about how to get rid of all these mindless stupid people programmed automatons they've become if not always being.
he knows others have felt similar feelings of disgust.
what to do?
he doesn't know but to close eyes and breathe cycling rhythm releasing him from worldly concern in a moment.
thrown away into the world perhaps by angry gods all the time at their mortal creations blaming them for their own divine shortcomings.
it becomes a very old thing.
he returns inside gathering his stuff and coming home to nap.

12

^
^^
^^^
^^^^

hotcakes on the moon.
hot cum oozing from lovers in fields of grass.
hot apple pie.

hair.
squaresville.
absurd emptiness.

fluttering flocks of exquisite rascal radical bassoons honking furiously at no one in particular this fine drizzling evening on easy street soon to be foreclosed and cleared away to make room for high rise parking structures for those inept creatures so inclined chosen at random to win big, baby.
this could be it.
this could be anything real or imagined.
beware.

shit fuck piss.
bizarre jack happening thing stumbling before the fall of civilization as we know it and remember it well for the time being while generations forget the whole damn thing coming and going along through overgrown ruins of its demise laughing all the way with the slaughter of consciousness they leave behind on 10th avenue without quite knowing how come this has become their mission beyond repair of spectacles adorning the adoring faces who have come to life once more to haunt the empty cemeteries looking for trinkets of treasure anyone might have overlooked before them sideways and kept on ticking like spiders on acid dreaming of becoming more than they are willing to ask for from superpowered monsters creeping crawling inside out from now and then we walk by the old abandoned corporate headquarters glowing pink from their judgment of themselves found it lacking the depth of soul to continue on as before in the heyday of their empires gone to waste slither slather muscle aching archenemies locked in cages boastful of their enterprising deeds now mislaid down by the river heaving its guts up in full raging hysterics that is not a pretty sight to be seen by anyone in tender secret hidden gardens abundant with pleasures of pain once you get in you can't get out - huzzah hurrah.
those who remain oblique to certainty yet absorbing truth-like nourishment from bowls of corn flakes to keep them from wildly masturbating their days away with futile efforts forthwith the damnation of their elders rocking the boat gently down the stream toward a better tomorrow of waste not want not thinking in glorification of rainbows never seen before physics has the answer to our dreams spent lazily hollowed against the wall of doubt succumbed forbidden recitals in moonlight now the sun has gone goodbye trembling afraid of future sorrows cascading upon the dirt generous behind our ears we could grow potatoes our mothers would tell us with laughter at our willingness to misbehave when the tough get going of which we will never belong.
he sleeps.

awakening late morning.
coffee, toke, cigarette.
that's the ticket.
continuing not poem for whatever reason cuz he don't need a reason just obsessive compulsion.
sitting at the computer gazing out the window at the wet world outside from last night's rain.
a few cars and trucks are driven by in and out of here.
it's medication time, folks.
take 'em if ya got 'em.
good luck.

spin the wheels one more time.
let fortune have its hand.
pay attention.
nothing is again the same ever.
you don't need a microscope or telescope to perceive that.
the naked eye will suffice well enough to pick up a clue.
clue to what?
a clue to our own madness such that it is thinking topsy turvy around around we go and so on and on.
click start with our minds.
everything with our minds.
minds expanding.

this is of no nevermind to these kids of the future.
hooray for them not plagued with doubts, yes?
comfortably obedient.
driven to excellence.
just like in the dystopian stories he used to read for fun.
here it is.
or not?

or not how it used to be but how it is.
not like being naked in the streets.
we're still working on it, don't worry.
it's a secret.
you're not supposed to know.
it'll be a surprise.

(to be continued...)

11

good morning.
happiness everywhere.
hail victory!

coffee, toke, cigarette.
continuing typing out not poem for the masses.
it's medication time.

cutting his dirty fingernails.
blowing his nose, he farts.
you call this art?
no, not really.

arbitrary beginnings and endings.
we mark them for our purpose and convenience in conflict with one another.
and the possibility there is no beginning nor ending which we feel there must not be.
however, we could be wrong which is why everything is posed as our theory.

they fight wars against each other for various reasons, yet agree on what day it is.
that seems odd.
many things about what they do and do not do seem odd to us.
but we are them.
what are we to understand being what we are?
what are we?
dreamers of the best and worst of all possible worlds?
low grade common dumb shits?
is there a difference?
we fit and adapt to our physical and social environments whichever way it might come and go to be as it is and so on.
at times it's in our best interest to play dumb shit while dreaming the world otherwise.
the few and the far between.
acting as if.

on the stage of the crowded burning theater we have forgotten our lines so we wander around taking up space and time as we are best able to do so without giving ourselves away.
we might be on a mission.
screw you, jerko.
but they seem to wonder discussing among themselves about there being something wrong about us.
they hire people who are doctors to tell them what it might be.
telling us who they have reasoned who it is we are to become.
we act the part to play.
pills.

being diagnosed as being mad of some sort or another is a tricky pickle but can be successfully managed to one's benefit up to a point.
every village needs an idiot.
perhaps the happiest person around - or not.
until one is taken out and shot.
nobody tells us nothing about nothing and what they do tell us is lies.
we gotta figure shit out for ourselves.
how it makes sense to us.
dig?

so, whatever... imagine placing 0 everywhere at the center of everything and placing 1 nowhere at the end of everything.
where are they relative to one another?
could they possibly be at the same location while also being infinitely apart?
what is infinity if it is counted as 1?
everything above is impossible to do in reality.
does that matter?
fuck reality.

just wondering about shit.
no big deal.
the world built on top of the earth.
a world in disrepair always breaking apart.
the earth never fails.
the bliss of everything.
a kiss of the almighty.

playing the game of life to amuse ourselves in our eternal paradise.
what will we be this time around?
what adventures will we have?
he should take out the recycling, clean the cat box, do laundry.
he has a blank canvas to paint.
and it's medication time.

he lights a cigarette after a toke listening to some of his music of sorts.
/ excommunication.
thinking thoughtcrime felt to be disruptive of collective groupthink thing.
the many vs the few vs the one.
a butterfly.

spiders in his head weaving webs of consciousness perhaps.
or it's just imagination.
imagination given to us by gods and/or evolution it would seem to stand to reason we have it for a purpose toward our survival - or not.
whatever - he eats some cheetos.
pet the kitty.
he naps.

awakening.
toke, cigarette.
apple slices and sharp cheddar.
gazing out the window to the fluctuating light from the sun in and out from behind clouds.
everything back and forth around about sideways never the same as now again ever.
or if when the universe does repeat itself it is the end.
relaxing being cool and groovy as can be in times like these.
everybody running around with their heads cut off it seems.
that has nothing to do with us.
there is nothing we can do about it, except wait it out.
light another cigarette.

political vendettas across the various media outlets.
VOTE GAZORBNIK
the world is screwy.
all the powers that be trying to outdo the others to be the ones sitting on top of the world.
interesting.
we are here to experience and observe it would seem like to us.
what else are we being paid for by the state?
in a high state of madness flying clumsily along honk-honk.
a report to the committee.
there is no committee.
there maybe no state but warlords.
will there be heaven on earth?
will there be hell below?
what of all the knowledge lost?
when we become dirty savages to fend for ourselves in the wastelands.
where rivers catch fire.
what realization for us then?
what will we need?
how will we get it?
no slack.
no plan of attack.
no means of defense.
no sitting on a fence.
you are us or you are them.
everything all over the place.
mix it up good.
see what it might turn into - if anything.

what it might turn into is self peace, love, and understanding withstanding all set against it.
alone in a maddening world.
he laughs.
more coffee, another cigarette.
gazing out the window sitting before the computer typing out our theory of everything as not poem and so on.
floating downstream in a dreamboat toward a river to the sea.
uncompromising style and performance befitting our lifestyles.
granola yogurt peaches.
and it drizzles a bit outside.

self peace.
self love.
self understanding.
an unending puzzle.
a god thing fathoming itself.
peace in stormy weather.
love surrounded by hate.
understanding out of ignorance.
selfless self - hahaha.

our theory of everything is about everything whatever it might be or not be from the most sublime to the most mundane.
from what is known from experience which includes accounts of the experiences of others.
though accounts that may be altered to fit certain paradigms believed to be true.
we accept nothing with neither belief nor doubt.
we shall wait and see sitting on a fence among all the sides trying to inform us what's what and what's not what in the faith of their theoretical opinions.
and all that jazz.

the lotus blossom with roots stuck in the muck.
this is as they see as a model of what it should be for ourselves.
what's wrong with this picture?

he feels like he's going nuts most of the time but then looks around to see who he'd rather be.
perhaps a tree.
that would be nice.
it would suffice very well indeed.
but none of these other walking talking apes he's seen.
he may be nuts but they are insane.

10

again with the albatross god is dead thing sacrificed on crossed wires making it seem to appear more stranger than it needs to be while the closet intellectuals in the crowd debate the finer points of their reasoned arguments.
who wants reason?
do your own thing, baby.
the gist of the matter overdrive toward neptune and beyond empress ring-a-ding-ding.
the incomplete failure of germanic-depressive atheistic thought stuck in the mudhead.
we told you so.

the rapid deployment of gods as we speak of no such thing.
who done it?
the victims point in all directions on earth.
the world itself is guilty.
crimes against our humanity.
full tilt hit squad in action above and beyond.
those who choose their own destiny not waiting for fate to decide.
opposite of us.
we are them.
maybe meek and lazy.
maybe indecisively thoughtful.
maybe it don't matter.
they despise us regardless.
they despise anyone not being among themselves.
what's the difference between them and the bosses of the old school?
but they are so boastfully enlightened - so they believe.
you can't tell them shit.
you can tell them that they are shit however.
you can also mind your own business and ignore them.

opposites attract, and attack.
glorification of war continuing on for ages.
have and have-nots.
blessed are the self-centered and the selfish.
theirs is the kingdom of the gods.
there is no way to be rid of them.
we are them, but they are not us.
eat it, baby.
yum.
___________

dark energy everywhere.
inside our heads even.
or not.
popular culture misinformation.
drama queens from venus.
what does this mean for us?
do we get more $$$?
that's important.
short skinny bent old woman walking by from the store with her grocery bag over her shoulder cigarette in hand.
long gray hair straight down her back.
steady determined stride.
he lights a cigarette too.

so we theorize from our base ignorance a universe with beginning and end.
a dreaming child god blowing bubbles.
a flowing stream of eternal continuing existence forever.
we cannot even observe all this universe supposedly.
does any more of it actually exist?
light that will never reach us.

and where do clowns fit into our theoretic cosmology?
laughing all the way as every good citizen should.
no more pouting complaints.
stand up.
march on.

coffee, toke, and one last piece of birthday cake which unfortunately is too dried out to eat except the icing.
hell freezing over.
heaven is hot, babe.
quit yelling at us to shut up.
go home, suckers.
everyone here is drunk making out in dark corners.
a fine mess we got ourselves into for not paying attention.
let this be a lesson.
stay in school, kids.

nodding heads in the crowd agree - this is bullshit.
whipping dead horses.
hooray.

melting mouths speaking silver tongued lies with sugar on top and a flaming cherry.
spread it wide.
come inside.
jack in the box all cranked up ready to pop like a spinning top.
WASP ideology run amok eating itself alive in a future SF dystopian aftermath.
the rise of AI.
the project is the object.
no more mr. nice guys.
cruel motivations employed by the rich and famous to protect their shares of interest in keeping everything going as is as much as possible.
alpha domination.
mistaken identities.
crowd control.
riots in the streets.
tooth extraction.
fend for ourselves.
yahoos hunt us down to kill us.
we are them to them - those of us who feel they are superior to the rest of us for some odd reason or another.
give it a rest.

somehow everything is possible somewhere somewhen over the rainbows where life is beautiful all the time.
ha-ha hee-hee ho-ho.
all the damage done.
many who can never be helped - or can they?
we are cursed with this sense of empathy toward everyone and no one.
life should not be torture.
all of us to blame - or none.
ob la di...

the magick properties of spacetime where when 0 is the center of all that is - theoretically.
what is absolute?
is it only nothing?
everything?
perhaps, or not.
wait for it.

the individual is dead.
no resurrection will touch them.
neither heaven nor hell.
in limbo land we wander wondering wonderful things that might have been.
a world filled with hatred and rage at one another.
bummer.
but people make the best of it.
climbing upward until they're among the few on top.
those on the bottom deserve to be so.
don't have what it takes to rise above.
the wheels keep turning grinding them down as is the designed intent.

0 can be determined to be anywhere everywhere.
it is 0 anything everything.
jejune reasoning among the ignorant having little to do with the situation at hand.
is violence the only answer?
the singularity of 0 becoming infinity if need be.
does it need be?
why not?
still contained relative within itself no matter how much it may expand.
there are no boundaries or limits we might imagine possible.
it is continual process.
progressive, regressive, and otherwise.
0 is the axis of reality.
yet we continue fighting.

how does he explain so much of what he does not quite understand?
he could have become the foremost authority about tree frogs if he wanted to.
he thinks about how much else he would be ignorant of instead.
him and his lazy excuses.
right now he is thinking about the implications of 0.
it takes his mind away.
an overlooked number - or non-number.
he thinks about how he could have become the foremost authority about 0 if he wanted to.
he didn't.
he could tell people he knows all about nothing.
oh well.

and furthermore...

(to be continued...)

9

dancing robots doing the boogaloo with nothing to do with anything else up in a tree learning to play the flute.
a revolution of the absurd.
he farts while typing out not poem.
our theory of everything.

a report to the committee.
we are them manifesto.
few understand.
others ignore.
we don't care.
it's in our hair we won't soon forget.
a toke, a cigarette.
sports and war disconnect from ages past.
who was the most fit to kill and die.
all hail the heroes.
there is something strange going on.
fucking fucker's fucked.
we lift our heads high higher highest.
while our feet sink low lower lowest.
funny how that happens.
is it the way it's supposed to be?
what is anything supposed to be but what it is?
changing through configurations yet remaining the same.
outta chaos comes order, outta order comes chaos.
simple, but nothing is that simple.
pay attention.
how does one explain everything all in one's head?
one side against the others like in real life.
stories changing moment by moment proclaiming truth.
computer controlled.
groupthinking collective of those unable and/or unwilling to think by themselves.
it's scary to be alone.
it's a trap.
social outcasts.
potatoes.
___________

fancy pants on fire on thin ice.
1001 phony baloney tales told by an idiot.
it's medication time.
pet the kitty.
suck on a cough drop.
an idiot selected each spring to be the king of fools.
hanging by the highest tree.
sacrificial rituals we have forgotten the meanings performed according with traditions to dispel our unease and misgivings.
give peace a chance.
no more war pigs have the power.
simple minds in simple times.
pain is part of the excitement.
death, the entertainment.

a leaping piano succumbs toward isolation of thought is what we have in mind now.
who knew?
dunking ginger snaps in coffee in a pleasant moment or so lingering at his fingertips.
talking to himself in the supermarket place cuz when you're old you don't give a shit.
it's so nice.
remembering the past in not always favorable light.
nothing to be done now, not even regret.
why for?
he lights another cigarette on a dead end street with grinning death creeping around the corner.
hello, old friend.

the devil stopped dancing.
what could be wrong now?
so hard to satisfy the ongoing need.
but we wander from our cause.
we've been fooled again it would seem.
another toke will do the trick.
star crossed indifferent energies of symbiotic light flashing on/off.
at some point he will imagine how this is done.
many people believe there should be nothing.
but there is nothing, except everything.
why should one be and not the other?
no reason he can imagine for now.
maybe later on in the dream.
yearning for a non-yearning state of bliss?
good luck with that, baby.
all goodness and light the wise guys tell us.
many believe that is what they are supposed to desire.
leaving everything behind.
oblivion.
ducky.

we desire everything in all its horrible beauty if need be.
should we desire?
should we fear?
why not?
to be human, though the stories of the gods are the same.
how conveniently human they are.
blessed be.

but remember we are them in any and all situations with anyone else among us.
don't take it so seriously.
poke its eye out.
spray paint the temples day-glo pink and green.
everything onstage at the burning theater where the show must go on, even if no one shows up.
it's all possible, though not mandatory no matter how much people tell us so.
everything is kicking in.
here we go.

he thinks about spaghetti.
he thinks about our theory of everything he types out as not poem - cuz he ain't no poet.
sitting before the computer wondering while gazing out the window at the action in the trailer park.
wondering about being alive - experiencing - thinking...?
i am that i am.
going crazy with it.
crazy is culturally relative more or less but not really - or not.
guess again.
we'll let you know when your guess is correct.

we are nobody much to anyone.
that's what makes it easier to observe.
the absurdity of it.
the logic of it.
spin, baby, spin.
we got the spin cycle blues.
snakes and ladders.
a rabbit hole dreaming dreamer as we have always been with him.
it's not as easy as it might seem, it can be difficult.
abused sick starving neglected children of all ages.
zombie rodeo clown buddha buddies.
death toll decadence.
regular shoes.

who has the time but the bums who have forgotten what time is?
bottle return.
life on easy street.
skip bagging.
neat and clean hippies in smart suits and haircuts.
where only outlaws have guns beyond the comprehension of correct progressive thinking gone wrong.
survival of the fittest.
endurance.
this is not a test.

he doesn't watch tv - that's what's wrong with him.
not up with popular culture.
square, daddio.
mosh pit memories.
getting down with a singularity (0).
all that be-bop thing.
people who know what to do bug him.
always pushing others outta their way.
but where would we be?
but where are we now?
death and destruction.
oh boy.
bombs carried by children.
the absurd laughing.

self pity of humanity with our very vengeful gods.
comedy news hour.
wave goodbye to yesteryear's dreams of tomorrow.
talking heads with their mouths full of shit.
suit jacket and jorts.
come as you are.
8/22/2016 3:33:69 AM

today.
fortune or misfortune?
one contained within the other.
swirling twirling away downstream through the sewers to the river to the sea.
jimmy open the door.
whatever the fuck.
action/reaction yin yang-a-doodle.
writing in language no one seems to understand anymore.
power to the people, right on.
kids these days.

om jingle jangle cutting knife through the difference between night and day.
everything that has been tried has failed.
bloodthirsty apes on the prowl.
decisive purpose regarding the outcome of events leading to our downfall.
people begging for it.
let it rain.

it happens all in our heads conjoined symbiotic developments thrusting inside the willing temple.
repetitive enthusiasm quickening the heart bound for glory with righteous intent to sacrifice the material world for a chance at paradise spinning wheel of fortune cracked opening.
zonkers.
trouble coming every day.
ego spooning.
it's medication time.
unhappy happy pills.

who doesn't know by now?
progressive socialist disgust at everything.
pivotal pervert squeeze sleaze at the door within margins of error amid possibility frameworks.
yeah, whatever the fuck.

huh?

(to be continued...)

hunky dory petunias.
flavor of the week.
shit brown.
awakening.
coffee and coffee cake.
a toke on the peace pipe.
a cigarette.
bright sun on the glowing blinds.
sharp stark shadows.

ATTENTION:
don't miss out - have your very own biochip inserted today.
become a citizen of the earth.
sing-song verses of pretty propaganda media broadcasts.
fill it up.
for the protection of the overlords.
self-interest above all.
the success of greed.
the necessity of need.

he is thinking about how much our behavior is routine.
how much of our behavior is routine may vary person to person.
water to wet the whistle.
he's sure the wise guys know all about it and have their set theories.
our elusive theory of everything written as not poem.
irrationalogic reasoning imagining what might be true - or not.

people running outta food throughout history.
the world running outta food.
billions dead as the market demands.
AI computer controlled corporate machines gobbling up everything.
living in highly secure undisclosed locations the well-fed pigs oinking gleefully among themselves.
mandatory implemented disasters.
we're fucking fucked.
many gathered up into work camps.
menial repetitive tasks until death's release.
no heaven nor hell await.
everything without meaning.
classic excuse.
gut reaction.

the easy street blues.
no one knowing the news.
just, spare a cigarette?
self-inflicted crimes against humanity.
how many die in prisons.
that kinda sucks.
how terrible the world appears to be for so many.
what is truth?
huh?

so many so angry.
it's difficult to get anything through.
he doubts everything about this world and the people in it.
all they seem to like to do is fight with one another.
they set it up that way pretending they all don't want pretty much the same things.
or - they are set up that way by those who are in control.
divide and conquer - the old game practiced for centuries.
and the people whine and complain and do nothing about it.
they can't do anything unless led by leaders skilled in the art of manipulation.
and the people never get away from being dominated and oppressed.
they scratch their heads in frustrated confusion.

and if we don't join them then we are them - the enemy.
they need an enemy to keep them from facing themselves.
there is little chance of remaining neutral in this heated situation.
attack attack attack.
that's all they know how to respond to anything that confronts them.

but we live in a world with these people.
we attempt to stay outta their way but that is not always possible.
one can never much tell who's who and what they might do.
it's often unexpected.

6+1=7
he lights another cigarette.

(to be continued...)

decomposing our theory of everything as not poem.
why not?
who's paying attention?
what are the rules?
not poem as report to the committee.
there is no committee.
there is only the product of a mind gone mad.
too long a time at sea it would seem before washing ashore on an island in the eye of a storm raging on an otherwise calm sea.
the sea is humanity.
you see?

no, probably not.
what can we do to help you?
it would seem nothing is of any use.
so we continue.

he is as he is and nothing's gonna stop him from being that no matter who or what he leaves behind - or who or what leaves him behind.
though he has little idea of what he might be.
it's not like he's on a mission or anything like other people.
a mission for what?
a mission for croutons.
a mission toward heaven.
a mission to the bottom of the bottomless pit disappearing perhaps into endless infinitesimally into oblivion.
what fun.

waiting for the latest news from the front of the back against the wall.
ECT for everyone!
everyone in their place in space and time.
musical chairs.
who stays in?
who is out?
we are them.
let it be.

on/off location of spacetime.
a continuum between.
he thinks sometimes he is a dreamer of the world.
it's scarier than one might imagine.
one is also trapped within the dream and subject to it.
he thinks sometimes he is an idiot.
that's probably more likely.

so the idiot tells a tale.

once upon a time they all lived happily ever after.

until...