easy does it

part 78 -

nice.
real fucking nice.

let our ego beware the coming of the i am.
some things are not so simple as they might seem to the naked eye peering into the dazzling illusion of a universe infinite in all directions and dimensions we could imagine at once.
once upon a time there was a purple dragon flying through the void when it lays a golden egg which hatches into a universe. perhaps even the universe we supposedly exist in. or perhaps not.
we go on about our lives whatever our lives might be just the same as anyone's but different. 7+ billion different people and counting.
these words could mean anything to anyone. they might as well be gazorbnik. and in a sense they are gazorbnik, but each has some sorta meaning attached to it already. they've been tarred and feathered with meaning. don't believe a word of it. or not. believe what you will. it's all the same anyway in a dream.

we are invisible until someone needs to be blamed. then we are the only ones the others are looking for. we are them no matter who we might be otherwise. they will have their reasons and minds made up.
it's all make believe but they think of it as truth. the truth is, according to our theory of everything, that 0 is the one constant in the universe. nevermind the velocity of light. that means nothing to us. the universe hinging on 0 to go any way at all, all the way toward an unreachable infinity which may or may not exist. this is something the scientist priests lose sight of with their rationalogic calculations about how many infinities it takes to screw in a light bulb.
infinity cannot be set. it cannot be counted except as being counted as 1 infinity. and we go on and on from there toward an infinity of infinites and beyond.
so, it cannot really exist under those circumstances. and as we have stated before there is no beginning nor end. infinity reaches out beyond the universe and recedes into an infinity of infinitesimality. dig?

we stand on nothing - 0. 0 is the only reality. 0 is everywhere everywhen in everything. 0 is the center of the universe. the center of the universe is in our heads. funny how that happens while few come to realize what it all means.
another "truth" is i am being the center of consciousness. what is conscious but the i am? who are you?
therefore i am must be 0, right? maybe. according to our theory it is and it isn't. and people who sleep their lives away until they die. to the clown that sometimes seems like a good idea they've got going. what's the point of anything else really? it's insurmountable. fuck it. give up.

0 is not beginning nor end, nor middle either. beginning, middle and ending only makes sense to those who believe themselves as being mortal. we drive new cars until they finally breakdown. we think of that as beginning and end. but something comes together as being a car, and the car lasts for x-amount of time and the car comes apart into something else. creating sustaining destroying, and all that jazz.
are these fundamental truths that transcend realities and are present in each one? it would seem that way for us to imagine, but it could be that we are mistaken in that they may exist only in our reality. in another reality what goes up may not always come down. there may even be no such thing as up and/or down, but instead are directions impossible to our way of thinking. maybe we just keep looking in all the wrong places for it. it? what it?
it is it. everything may aspire to be it, but it is actually it. but it is everything.
and what's that got to do with gazorbnik? gazorbnik can be everything as well, but it is everything in a different way of being everything. gazorbnik more or less has to do with meanings of everything and anything included in everything.
whereas it is mostly concerned with the actuality of everything. and this is part of the confusion - the confusion that leads us toward realization. realization of nothing but everything in continuing understanding like incoming/outgoing waves of cosmic energies.
people with all their distractions not knowing what we're doing here for. it could be love and hate or good and evil or true and false or whatever and whatnot. it could be us and them. binary diametric polarized divisions of our experience of reality as if that really makes a difference. but it's the way we are socially organized and economically driven for political ends and religious ideals.

mr. tough guy.
cheeseburger with a side of fries.
fast and easy.
you are being followed.
don't touch anyone.
the moment of doubt.

people in the park coming home from work.
coming up on dinnertime.
coffee, a toke, a cigarette.
we will be reminded to remember our infinite crimes against the lord who comes swiftly upon us into our heads. we are left behind as wheat is separated from chaff all over the place around the world as we know it but have not seen it like this before now.
another fantasy of the clown's not poem he types continuously sitting before the computer hunched over the keyboard mumbling to himself as he goes along toward no destination whatsoever.
more coffee.

not remembering what did happen.
remembering what did not happen.
we bungle through living this way.
silly humans.
but we take possession of their human brains to do as we will through them by controlling their thoughts and bodies in this make believe world they believe to be real, which technically it is real. they don't need to know that. let them suspect it is illusion. haha. let them feel that they are being tricked without being able to prove it. it does not exist - or does it?
spooky.

and nazi/zionist post-illuminati reptilian alien pigs mucking around messing everything up for their own greed and amoral amusements. no common human feeling whatsoever, just calculations of risks and profit potential.
excitement on the edge of dawn. all the clown can do is yawn. he's seen this type of thing before and he wants less not wanting more. moon spoon june. the whole is now complete. isn't that neat? what a feat. let's go eat some meat.
are you ok? the nurse asks the clown.
yeah, the clown says.
meanwhile, he knew that he couldn't hold on forever, nor why would he? he spoke no more about it. keeps it locked in a secret vault.
nothing he's got he really needs.
21st century schizoid man.

books and stories of dystopias the clown thought were warnings of what might come, not as blueprints of what might be.
and it all comes true.
it's interesting to observe it being put into place with few even noticing and no one knowing what to do about it. the masterminds are hidden far from the maddening mob of the great unwashed taking to the streets with many looking to make trouble. oh well.
everyone wants to believe that they know what side you're on. all sides each think of themselves the same way, as the last hope of humanity. there is no hope for humanity. billions will die before we are done.
there is a mouse in the house. where's the fucking cat?

our "leaders" brag about how big they are measured by the amount of nukes they could fire at once. what a big stupid game they play. but they don't care. they will survive the death and destruction, but many of us won't. too bad. poking a wasp nest with a stick as foreign policy. when words turn to actions.

another day finds the clown sitting before the computer once more typing not p0em for the heck of it without much of a care in the world except nearly about everything there is in his experience of it. frightened about this, that, and the other thing. he is the person no one wants to be. somebody's gotta be it. why not him? sure, why not?
but he dreams of reality hunky dory peachy keen for him and everyone else. like that makes any difference. too many forces against it. forces conjured up by others with their greed for more and more and more, stripping the earth in the process until there is nothing left when they imagine going to other planets.
the clown sighs. it's always been this way with us. greed is the force that builds empires. what else are empires needed for? and what about the earth being flat or not?

part 77 -

billions for everyone.
gazorbnik does nothing. gazorbnik is a state of mind - sorta. a state of being if you will, perhaps. what difference does it make in these times of exponential growth of our progressive madness reaching for a 0 point of infinity?
signals from outer space, if there is outer space. it could be noise, unintelligible to our way of thinking.
chewing some bubble gum.
we could be on the cusp of understanding, or not. we could be not even close.
are we even paying attention?

how come?
there is no how come about anything. everything just is.
we imagine ourselves. confrontations in the streets. us and them. who is right and who is wrong? how is that determined? the clown looks out the window and laughs - again. this will not be a happy ending. do you suppose so?

the clown had thought he was once everyone. now he realizes himself as no one.
he can relax. no reason for more effort than to survive. live the simple life. a life of untold magick if you choose to believe, which many do not and those who do become quickly lost along the way.
few understand the ways of pathless paths when it is entirely simple and easy on the mind. you don't have to think at all if you don't wanna. that's the beauty of it.
the clown thinks about how many reports have been written up about him by various people for various reasons, mainly being that it is what they get paid to do. everybody loves $$$. can't get enough. it makes everybody a working fool trying to get ahead of everyone else.
this is his report to the committee as not p0em.
robots coming to kill us with their mind rays. we will believe we're dead already. what's the use?

fair is a non-existent concept - guru jeff.
we invent our own destruction according to our nature and nurture and indoctrination. fact or fiction? haha - suppose it is neither/both, what then? then we all can go home again. there are no solutions to this mess that civilizations quickly become. and after rain the sun comes out.
bubblegum.
wishful thinking.

boring but never bored the clown proceeds in circles spiraling out from 0 inside his head where somewhere he dwells. everybody sleeping he spends his time mostly alone which has been his life as he likes it. he likes many things - useless things. no value to anyone but him. who would steal it? who would know what it is? and they all might be abandoned at a moment's notice. there is always more.
when everything becomes the same over and over of which he is guilty himself. he blames society. bugs on the windshield. we can say whatever we want, but it's more important if a well known celebrity says it instead. then we can quote it and feel important too.

deep blues again. happy times at last. frump. $$$ makes $$$ for somebody, even if we lose it all. down in the delta, baby.
there's something wrong with this whole business. do you know what it is? you wanna take a guess?

it's gazorbnik.
gazorbnik, the spanner in the works of the pie in the sky. gazorbnik everywhere everywhen in everything. gazorbnik obliterates it sideways from here now to infinity. gazorbnik is our beloved friend and hateful enemy. there's no telling what next. who needs gods? gods are just an excuse. forget the 4th or whatever dimension. who needs it? we have enough problems as it is. but gazorbnik is not one of them. it creates problems only for those who try to reason with it. it's a losing struggle.
you may think this'll never happen to you. but it already has and you probably don't know it. get to know it. it's good for you, though it doesn't always seem that way while it's happening. ghost circus coming to town. look out.
just watch your favorite shows on tv.
CERN shenanigans.
spacetime shifting.
what will they think up next? something to destroy us all? as the clown gazing out the window at not much happening at all except everything. everybody is strange dancing to hypnotic rhythms through the night dark without a moon to be seen but which is felt.
as our theory of everything states, gazorbnik is the tool of idiots and fools to seem smarter than they are but usually has the opposite effect without them knowing. but the clown suspects everything so he's cool. gazorbnik works for those who have come to doubt everything else no matter what. we doubt our faces in the mirrors of the maze of mirrors.
then one doubts one's own doubt. be careful that faith doesn't overcome you at this point but to continue onward wherever that may lead us. but remember that you can't get there from here.

it's all the fault of our enemy. they attempt to trick us from the start. their intentions are hidden behind handshakes and smiles. but we have no enemy except those who believe we are their enemy, and there are many of those kinda people around about as you probably already know. it's for your own good, like it or not.
that is this world. but we suspect it is all other worlds as well. why shouldn't it be? wealth and power is the same no matter what dimensions of being we might happen to exist in, held by the few to control the many.
exactly that. nothing else comes close to what we believe is truth. truth has no meaning otherwise than our belief. nope.
beatniks are out to make it rich.
o' know.

this is the true time. it's coming down to here now. it all will be real. no more dreaming. but it's always a dream. we remember this clearly. but that will make little difference. we will be slaughtered again and again. what else do we exist for? let them boast how much courage they have against us unarmed and not fighting back. don't make us laugh. it's a silly game. more so now than ever before. upon the stage of the burning theater to wild applause and cheers.
it's medication time.

it's times to be what time it is. more coffee, a toke, a cigarette. life is good for the clown. how does he rate this privilege he's got? a zillion ways from tuesday. in a strange trance, he sneezes - ah-choo.
action/reaction/non-action. at what scale from infinitesimal to infinite are we observing? it makes all the difference, doesn't it? everyone's on ecstasy, real or imagined. don't lift a finger. let everything be as it may be. or act upon it with the same happy results over and over in your heaven forever. haha on you, baby.

meanwhile, we go through lives and worlds unending as they are unbeginning - wheee... how we enjoy them all in all their pleasures and pains. what else is new? and each world and life seem very much real. and they are real as real might be. but does that matter? not to us.
whatever scenario is being played out wherever we might be we go along with to some extent as is usually needed to survive, otherwise, why do it?
but we are fortunate while others are not. we don't know why this is. it's just fate we suppose. but what is fate but our actions, reactions, and inactions individually and collectively? and so what? still fate may deny us what we most desire. who cares?

we care. we are immortal mortal creatures who would be gods if we felt like it. the gods we invent that we program how to behave with certain parameters within which they may exercise their free will if they wish to do so.
trapped within the given cultural structure of words, phrases, sentences, paragraphs, and on from there. the clown can't seem to get them outta his head to explain such a simple idea as it. too bad. oh well. hahaha.
and forget about gazorbnik. it's a lost cause. he needs a cigarette.
everything that either exists or does not exist or somehow in-between. the possibilities and impossibilities and their probable states of reality. we open the box and discover the cat has disappeared.

we believe what we believe just as the heavens open up and $$$ rains down upon us and is instantly worthless the moment it lands on the ground. it won't buy shit no more. and so many are confused as to why. 2+2=cow is why. why not?
any idiot should know that. but you're not an idiot, are you? any idiot should know if they are an idiot or not. being an idiot is a no win situation thing.
but as far as our theory of everything is concerned...

part 65

the moon and the trees in dancing romance alone together in such a way as it has been given for them to be.
the moon is not real. people will believe anything except those who know truth.
corrective thought. think correct. it's easy and fun and rewarding.
the corporate government sucks.
all pigs must die.

the clown awakening makes coffee and sitting before the computer typing not p0em he yawns. holy baloney. people fighting the good fight against one another. he feels useless in this struggle not quite knowing what side to be on except not with the bad guys, whoever they turn out to be. everybody frustrated as fuck. nobody  listens to any of them. they talk amongst themselves about conspiracies set against them and their way of life. the conspiracy of the moon and the state.

trying to match the way things are with the way things were to become things that will be. the revolving ages of the dawn coming from the deep darkness of night.

coffee, bagel with cream cheese while millions are hungry. but there's a war on. a war of humanity vs humanity. everything is at stake about who will control the future and what future it will be. whose future?
is this real?

reality is such a drag but we're all caught up in it to varying degrees of certainty and doubt, even those who pretend otherwise to be unaffected.
he goes out for supplies after a smoke.
comes home to more coffee and a toke.
a nice sunny day.
ipso dipso crash bang boom...
whatever it is should hurry up soon. dizzy whizzy. dysfunctional X marks the spot for the takeover of reason much to our benefit and dismay imagining realizing which came first between the chicken and the egg. the clown decides to boil some probably GMO corn on the cob.
useless.
hanging on to what's left of the world and earth after the gods have had their field day. now we rebuild what we can and want and move on.
but this is in other ultra-dimensional timelines, not necessarily here now sitting traveling up and down the chakras as we will dreaming everything imaginable.
no thought, just experiencing. whatever.
trees.

but everything seems to be brewing up a storm of late that we gently try to focus on but ignore. no comment. jumping in a puddle is fun.
the heyday of political action groups zeroed in on each other igniting each other on fire in a night of sorrow unspoken before great crowds of bystanders looking around to try to see anything that may indicate what's happening.
but that assumes that there is anything happening. what might be happening is these people themselves milling about confused packed into the great pink circle where ceremonies are often usually held throughout the seasons. most people couldn't care less what goes on. they just wanna go home and back to bed.
so let this be a lesson to ya.

prepare.
be transparent. use magick. contact hyper-dimensional intelligences. get aboard the mind shift/ship if and when it comes around, and you have the intuitive psychic abilities to perceive it. laugh at death.
fat chickens for sale. unprovoked overlooked nonsense jumbled together with any semblance of parasitic annoyance. furthermore the sea is erupting. look out below, the mighty are falling. get thee behind me, satan.
the kitchen will be open in 13 minutes. please form a line behind the piano and behave yourselves accordingly to how we have taught you. do you remember what happened the last time? do you want that to happen again?

so then what do we do but turn in our resignation forms to the proper authorities and walk out the door?
it's medication time. the horror.
who are the "proper authorities"? this is what we must understand with a banana balanced on our nose for telepathically tuning in the aliens of imagination - remember? or weren't you here before now? this comes as somewhat as a surprise. but, nevermind... kisses.||=+=|

love to everyone.
what could be simpler but for the complex convolutions of hate regardless? keep that in mind as we continue as everything continues from forever to forever as previously explained over and over in incoherent detail. shake it.
still as we withstand the heat of the moment of all time cuz there ain't no time but now which isn't wholly true (nor false) as becuz at the exact location of the moment there is no time. time is 0.
you see? but you don't need to see. trust us instead. why would we lie to you and lead you astray? you're much to smart and knowledgeable for that. your wisdom knows no bounds. but that is not what we are interested in. what is your ability to make mistakes? how well is your understanding of the game/? are there those above who believe they might direct events for or against us? those who act as gods. the project must prevail, which it is doing - thank the lord most high. the project is precisely where and when it should be. have you experienced the subtle but definite shift of realities one to another? that's the talk about town. people.
corporate control of capitalism worldwide. the crowds cheer and jeer depending. the cycles are turning never the same again ever. time without time is interesting to think about but don't burn yourself out about it. goat's head. a spider in a tree perhaps nearby. he's sure of it. the chances are pretty good. so, where are we?
the clown has a toke while sitting before the computer on some sorta planet we don't seem to agree much about what it is. the planet is a particle-waveform or some such like that we're not exactly sure yet but we continue to hope our questions might be answered however much we doubt it and do not necessarily would want any answers as we have stated before.
the waves roll in and then wash out following the tide following the make believe moon.
roid rage police killing people all over the place - black folks mostly - very mostly.
people got all sortsa tricks and trips in their heads - frustration anger hate... FEAR. UFOs. underground civilizations. people feel they need to be considered a persecuted minority for whatever reason in their heads about it. everybody claims to be an outcast. cheeseburger blues.

tomorrow -
awakening.
coffee, toke, ginger snaps.
meds.
all's not right with the world so the clown sidesteps it for a while. we are them. our disgrace is ubiquitous. strive for higher ground away away from the common rabble on the loose. we cannot help them nor stop them. frustration anger hate all around. plenty to spare. come and get yours.
|||watch it. do what you want to do about it. be a victim if you choose out of the limited options available left to you to become, you lazy fuck drain on society. the purge is coming - hahaha.
let it all become true, every little bit of it. it's all around us as far as our senses can perceive. it's tricky. peace in our time.

the day goes by fast but the days pass by slowly. which is true? anything?
every absurdity is true/false to many one way or another and they decide which is more favorable to them and the winds of change like deboning a chicken at gunpoint.
fun times and heroics. is this a joke? who are we asking who might be in a position and inclination to tell us fact from fiction? do we reject all authority and its privilege? would that be wise or stupid?
are fact and fiction mere illusions we happen to believe becuz they are interwoven into the fabric of our reality of either this or that or the other thing, etc?
a cry of faith and doubt echoing in the chamber of the old ivy covered stone church in falling snow. vibrations marking the space and time together as a single location of here now while wars continue winding up into one war of between good and evil where everyone will be designated to be on one side or another by each side in turn, yeah.
we are mostly always the last ones designated by either side, or any side up to now. at times we are entirely overlooked and are not designated as anything.
hooray.

drunk. this could be the last happiest day of our lives. it's not so bad and could be a lot worse. an ongoing war of cowards dressed up in full regalia imagining themselves saving the day while they fall behind. fighting to save the family farm from corporate takeover and control. mutual authoritarian aims hit and miss targets juggled struggling by pantless clowns on hot bed of burning coals and fire to the wonder of abused sick starving neglected children of all ages in this sorry world which at times many whose fate and fortune turn against them but perhaps for the best, yes?
can you follow this diverse reasoning of irrationalogic intent we serve? follow the $$$. in our case the $$$ traces back straight to the benevolent state. figure it out from there through the digestive tract from the pockets of the common taxpayer. this is the official story if you care to believe it or not.

part 64

the clown typing not p0em.
let's get this straight a bit. not p0em is of course not a poem. it is also not anything much else either but rather specifically it is not a poem for reasons we do not wish to get into at the moment.
so there. that's that.
but that's not all. not p0em is our theory of everything and a report to the committee all in one (1). are you on the committee? would you know it if you are? perhaps.
everything else is meaningless.
and it's medication time once again - taking some he cannot pronounce.

dumb people running the show. dumb people just don't seem to know what's what and what's not. it's not their fault. nobody else seems to know either. it's the human condition to be slaves to ourselves and such as it is with us.
it's all love some people tell us. but the lord teaches us that with love there is hate. are we not to follow the lord?
everyone is asleep now. the clown is alone by himself more or less. time to get some thinking done. but what's to think really? thinking won't do it. not thinking won't either. but what is it we need to do besides live our lives as we will? but what about the child rapists who torture their prey and worse than that? what about leaders who seem willing to nuke whole populations of people doing nothing to harm anyone trying to get by? what do we think about that? what is there to think about that? anything meaningful?

so, our theory of everything entails that everything is everything while also being nothing. this seems obvious to us. but we think too much about shit. it's part of our madness we have been diagnosed with having by the authorities who know better and everyone believes more than they believe us. but there's a trick to it if one can find it. it's inside out and sideways to what is commonly perceived as reality. most people don't get it. most people don't need to get it - they aren't mad, or so they believe.
and there is no cure. madness is in our soul. and as much as we can determine everyone is mad to some degree or another. some individually and others collectively. but try to convince them of that, especially when it comes to themselves being as mad as everyone else.

but our theory of everything states everything is 0 and 0 is the exact center of everything if everything is infinite. but that may not be the case. it would seem to us that there is no such animal as infinity other than what we think we can imagine. 0 begins and ends everything though there can be no beginning nor end. everything continues as it was is will be forever in every direction possible in all dimensions that can be.
what good does knowing this do for us? probably none except it's something to think about while time goes by. what else are we gonna think about?
what we think is not entirely up to us. thoughts come to us from our muse for lack of a better term. it's up to us to understand or not. sometimes we do, sometimes we don't.

people are waking up walking and driving through the park on an overcast morning after the hot heat all week.
we can only proceed toward infinity, we can never reach it. there is always more. once there is no more than infinity becomes finite. funny how that works - haha.
this is some of the shit he thinks about as the days go on. he is more or less happy as possible in a wonderful wonderland of being. he needs it to be nothing more than that. it is enough.
let's sing and dance.
let's fall down.
let's laugh.

let's have another cigarette he's not supposed to have due to his heart and lungs being in disrepair. he has one anyway. fuck it.
___________

hot dog.
some more time on the farm with regular folks who are boring as fuck. the clown had to get away. toward what he did not know. something he could better live with in the long run. a fizzle dizzle. please excuse our existence. you will not replace us. a far cry. a hawk.
even if it were true we still would have to wonder. how come? and the obvious answer, why not?
why not everything everywhere everywhen here now forever?
nothing lost and nothing gained. all configurations never being the same. figure out what that might mean and be part of our subversive schemes - hahaha.
but back in this reality for a moment or so, someone's getting fucked in the ass with a red hot barbed wire dildo twisting in and out. it's coming down. it's going back up. who knows which way next? it will always be a surprise until we understand what's what about what. could we be a little more vague?
perhaps/perhaps not. another duality we need to contend with or ignore. there are so many involved in everything. but, so what? there's trouble coming every day.

the trouble of love. love for everything at once. the clown is such a selfish asshole. everybody seems to know it. anyway, 0 is the center of the universe. 0 is everywhere everywhen here now as previously stated. pet the kitty. he checks the pulse oximeter and it's ok. but then 1 could also be the center of the universe and so on.
the center of the universe is in our heads, somewhere around the pineal gland thing maybe. how large is 0? could it be infinite which nothing can be? finite and boundless? (to quote from some wise guy who everyone who is anyone claims he knows shit).
do we have jobs to do in heaven? not guru jeff. no one claims he knows anything cuz mainly they don't know he ever existed and probably never will. like an overplayed record. everything has been pretty mediocre in the clown's life. nothing not much one way or another. except his continuing dreams flashing fantasy of hoi polloi speculations notwithstanding the shouting active promoters of hate on many sides as it pleases the lord as the lord is a selfish god needing to be flooded with love overflowing from its creations who have proven themselves faithful.
so much damage has been done by now. but we might rest easy as everything destroys itself in our conscious understanding of what the fuck. easy answers are tempting. we look for more questions to ask ourselves. this post is written diagonally sideways.
a cigarette.

to listen in on the voices of gods and becoming bored with their banter, or are they demons on our mind? as his fortune still is with him to some extent too subtle for many to understand. scaramouche. the lazy do-nothings you shall always have with you. show them no mercy. it begins again. holy shit! what do we do now? duck and cover? stand in the rain on a sunny day? we can imagine many sorts of things to believe.
and clown's losing his mind of sorts. there are things that go missing here and there. whatever. everything is strange. everybody lies or just generally makes shit up. like he does.

everybody's scamming everybody else. it's all pretend. most everything we have does not need to be produced except to feed the inflating economy. except to keep people off the streets and go home and watch some tv and go to bed on time.
fixations of love. follow the gilded path to the land of lovers to perhaps find oneself alone in a maze of mirrors with distorted reflections of self. realize this is not what you had imagined it would be. but what else could it be? hatred is the cause of the day.
keep your lamps trimmed and burning.

many hands make light work. if all cooperate to do what needs to be done to sustain themselves, and fuck the rest of it. leisure for the masses.
many will do nothing while others will improve themselves in many various way for themselves, not to win some reward like some pellets from a machine or an electric shock if not.
cooperative freedom.
smash the state.

we have no solutions. we only babble whatever nonsense comes to mind from our muse that may not be quite right, if you know what we mean.
bills to pay. certain things he feel he needs. epitron rules the day. certain figures play the part of...|
comedic drama of all the sacrifices we've made to be here now. danger at the edge where fools might wander discussing everything they imagine among themselves as invisible cell phone and wifi signals and such radiating our brains affecting our minds? who's who? them or us?

we play this game without thought of meaning - except gazorbnik, that which has no meaning. what does have meaning aside from the meaning we give it for our own sense of orientation to the lord?
the clown gazes out the window at everything he perceives appearing more or less normal to itself. but everything becoming a bit more weird perhaps but not really. synchronistic wannabes devising manipulating easy targets to project their programs within to spark the revolution as we laughing launch our love bombs into outer space and back again raining on their parade.

there is no outer space. it's an illusion, a holographic projection - sorta...
this is what they tell us. and there's no gravity too.
the clown blows his nose. he tries not to think about him being all that exists or whatever. everything is as he would want it to be. the exciting thrill a minute drama he could do without, but it's not done with him it would seem. what more does it want?
it wants nothing. it isn't anything that would want anything. it is devoid of any will other than cold calculations of logical consequences. true and false do not matter. they are just functions of the machine. the machine feeds upon the rage and becomes stronger. without us there is no machine. there is nothing but silence in the void. there is no air, over.

all pigs must die today before they fly away. something besides the fall that might come to us all. the fires of rebirth eternally burning. eat shit. the sexual flavor of exciting excrement. the blessing among the sheep, the lord their souls to keep. what wickedness runs wild in the streets where we first met where everyone meets. do you remember now? we came across each other in a maze of mirrors we know very well just how and why there is light and its reflections and what it means.
don't be fooled again.

part 62 (8)

in the first place there is nothing, not at all.
an abyss, a void, a chasm? whatever it might not be.
being is impossible by certain perspectives of thinking about it.
but what's to think?
no data, does not compute.
what do you think - fact or fiction?

fact theoretically means truth. what is a fact the whole fact and nothing but the fact? good luck.
we don't know what, do we? maybe yes, maybe no, maybe maybe.
why did the fool cross the road?
someone told him truth is on the other side.
now he's lost in a wilderness with no direction home stealing what he can to get by in these desolate times which have come upon us but not yet and perhaps never.
we shall see.
the clown hooked up to oxygen typing not p0em hunched over the keyboard of the computer wasting everybody's time but his own as all this provides a canvas to paint any which way the moods guide him. moods and the moon in perpetual dance for us bags of mostly water as we are. damage control in these last days. we're all going down.

brilliant drama acted out under the lights on the stage at the burning theater about truth and such we do enjoy though it does get us rather riled up about trivialities that are best left as they are but for others who are writing a doctorate thesis about it of all things. better them than us. pet the kitty. what's new and old at the same time rationalogic will argue against. funny about that. it denies itself. like planets orbiting supposedly around the sun as we like to believe is true. the clown misses 11:11 by an hour. wasn't paying attention which has been people's complaint about him since... whenever it was is will be. when there were first cartoons on tv. who knew it was an experiment? perhaps not even those conducting it. everybody on the blind side. under the spell of the project written into our DNA stuff and whatever. fat black cat up on the desk. swooshing tail knocking things around relics of a past incarnation of sorts as the spirits fly through more dimensions than we might have previously tried to imagine. what could it be?
children of the future won't have time for nonsense. they won't have time for nothing. busy as bees what they were modeled after decades of indoctrination informed by behavioral science. what desires for anything might they have? and they believe themselves fearless cuz they won some video games and camped in the woods to drink their frothy elixir.
broken mufflers bang pop hiss all the way home from our house to nowhere disappearing from existence outta sight outta our minds cheap thrills inside the gold mines of our choice by our own free will if that actually exists which we have reasons to doubt.
blabber blabber this blabber blabber that blabber blabber the other thing. aren't we so proud of our endeavors, eh?

the thing of imagination. everybody in the house asleep while the clown continues continuing not p0em beginning from 0 each time and ending at 0.
coffee, a toke. alienation. the morning sun's glow on the closed blinds of the window. another hot day is upon us.
as it just turns 11:11.
kiss it away. turn your back on all the problems in the world. what is there to do for those as lazy as us? the clown writes not p0em for the betterment of the masses. it's his part of the revolution. revolution? dream on.
we all know how that's never won. revolution is never from the people but from leaders who urge the people on for their own agenda.
the clown laughs a bit at that. all the uproar of people in the streets. he used to be one too back when he didn't know what is going on. it is so easy then to feel one is doing something responsible and relevant. those in true power grin untouched at our antics. they've got it covered.
to gain victory over ourselves is our actual real goal whether we know it or not. the day comes close. we can feel it moving us toward our destination we probably will never reach, but it's ok if not. where else is there to go?
everywhere we are able to imagine, right or wrong. stand up straight. be correct. but everything scares you to hell. there is no peace to it continuing constantly bang-a-bang-bang.
or something like that the clown don't understand.
not crazy like wild crazy but quiet crazy that watches everything. write a state of mind? what is your state of mind? his is ever-changing fulfilled and unfulfilled. crossing the river to get to the other side. today.

what needs to be explained by this point? everything? nothing? somewhere in the middle wherever. the clown looks through the blinds now 1/2 open (1/2 closed).
the eye knows where when truth lies. ipsy doodle.
hooray. but this comes to no surprise for those willing to shake their groove thang all night long while they play this song of true love gone wrong. it's that way all the time. few notice the difference. to break out of this prison of language. until then we cannot be free. freedom is self-defined, don't allow them to define it for you. fuck the far away tropical beaches alone as seen on tv. what haven't you seen on tv you are expected to believe?
crunch.

fascist fascination with details of error they erected out of common fear. something to wish for like wishes coming true in another sense of reality that does us no harm. what time is it with moments flashing instantly infinitely faster faster until there is no beginning? this according to our theory of everything. watch out. move outta the way.
the important part to remember is that we seem to have forgotten. is the universe any different? suppose it is. would we actually notice? a glitch. a big bang. light everywhere everywhen. then absolutely nothing - 0.
the trivial usurpation of what was once known as common sense by the meek inheriting the earth while the world burns in its awesome greed. figure that out, why don't ya?
little people driving big vehicles rolling in and rolling out of the park. delicious. let's give them a round of applause, shall we?
another toke.

blah blah blah blah...
[repeat as long as necessary]
everybody.

now it's turn around fall down.
now it's laugh at ourselves.
get settled into a groove thing and reach oblivion. it's always there to swallow us up, suck us up into our minds.
no, we can't have peace, love, and understanding since we would just sleep and waste away forever.
we need drama to keep us awake at night worrying about shit.
when is the next war? will we be raped and tortured by those fighting for our rights?
weird vibrations all around tonight, or is it us?
the dinosaurs are acting crazy.
people seem sleepy.
the clown doesn't really understand but then he sometimes thinks he might. why not? but everything is against him through nature and nurture and endless indoctrination. he couldn't think straight until he quit his job and went insane. it was the happiest days of his life. fuck working, baby. no time for that no more though while there's still those camped out on maggie's farm. and those who've memorized poems to recite at dusk when others are unsuspecting at this interruption on their own thoughts.

comedy news queen in love with her own voice talking down those she's interviewing twisting them into her own words they dare not disagree with nor at home or the bar wherever it might come to into this brightening darkening age off with their heads.
the axe is dull. it takes 2 whacks sometimes 3 to sever the heads. the clown feels sorry for the ones who don't wanna die. they imagine there is more to life and the chance of happiness. too bad now. they could have chosen to confess, and they chose not to. they suffer now.
those a god wishes to destroy it first drives mad - guru jeff.

through the gate to the garden around the bend over the hills and far away. maybe you'll find it, maybe you won't. don't ask us. we'll turn your head around for ya. kill us in our sleep. let's us move on to the next event happening now though we get tired of that yet study the common crowds surrounding us that are quite possibly hostile at any given moment from any given trigger - ka-pow! to the moon, alice.
and what would she do there but sit in the sand and play with trucks? what's the trick? did anyone else notice the slight shifts of reality? been happening a lot lately. whatever. nevermind. odd.

not exactly word salad but not exactly not either the clown continuing not p0em wishing something would be true that wasn't true before but maybe that is what happens as the dreamers dance away the time we have already forgotten instantly, remember? of course not. why would you want to remember? it's unproductive. it's borderline thoughtcrime which one never knows what is or not.
atlas shrugged and the world kept right on rocking, baby. no telling truth from fiction. each is strange in its own way of going about it. then they are usually taken out and shot.