Saturday, June 14, 2014

Cetchall Curall

I felt discipline in his hand and fear in his eyes, a dangerous combination for anyone in his delicate position.
Coincidence of Axiomation: difficult to blame the dark matter technicians for the half truths I find,
especially while I have no conclusions in mind, the quiet place so seldom achieved, forgotten and taken for granted really.
I sport the crutch so she don't have to, in the meantime my lips are turning blue.
Amid Harbingers of Desultory Circumlocution, pain is reeling, love is feeling. Set your mind to anything.
I appreciate the gifts of this realm we share,
for it was our negative attributes now lost that have brought us so close,
to understanding and never second guessing good reason.
The page is sparse at the expense of clues, the difference that still and constantly makes all the difference.
I only ignore their advice because I know it's for her in the end,
that she will find it because I feel her sight and nothing is stopping her from wanting all five again.
It is ensured, from a time before time itself,
when very little made any sense at all,
from the darkest corner of the darkest room
Parkinson's coefficient of innefficiency:
whatever makes me oblivious to that obvious existence is the necessary tool to my survival
Sensory Deprication, Landmarks and Milestones,
Fear Elemental, Sleep Aparatus, musical Dashboard, Synching Column,
Only Just, good long hard work, dispressed roofbottom,
third times a charm, four times a problem, extrapolated method,
anchors away, golden stay, public ice machine
Compromise of Desire, Pigeonhold Vernacular, Trustworthy Movie Choices,
Titration & Mediation, Power Over Politics,
Scared Geometry, A Sense of urgency, Pens and Clues,
Irregular Circumvention, Limited Spectrum of Possibility, Night Ripper,
Respect and Understanding, Toxicicicity, surface conditioning, textile seasoning,
plenitude state university, gravelly mistaken,
prenatal flux, liposervice, dead and done, of allergies and alias
THE EXTENT OF DECISION,
To Build a Train, cookie cutter person, generic human, axiomation, transplantation
NOTHING CAN STOP US NOW,
I don't want to go to work today
Pens and Clues, best in show, stay tuned
I know what [it is that] makes you me. . . OW!
hollywood love,
Black underwear,
Pain is a warning,
Death a reminder
Heisenbergensyndrom
the one most traumatic event
of your life

Friday, May 2, 2014

Equanimity and the Problem of Free Will, or How to Survive and Sustain as an Inter-Dimensional Self

My universe will exist as long as I live, and I must pay attention to its suggestion.
The body is a temple, and within it must be made as little and as much sacrifice as necessary, and the totals of these polarized abbuses and excesses may be that necessary for survival. Nothing can or will destroy itself, and that desire for change, that will to harmonize with the world, is that will itself, able to look in or out but never both at once to the flat, ineffable plane.
Time is the factor. This idea of change and how we cause and are caused by it. Nothing is entirely and solely itself because of this passage, and because of our flowing perception, to us things are and must only exist as they are in this moment, or our and every entire existence is nullified.
Meaning is lost through our own filters, that which we inflict upon ourselves and is passing, so not timeless, and beyond left to necessarily filtered interpretation. Even memories of things are augmented by current digestiong, anxiety, and company, etc.
These toxins we align ourselves with, are all bad in excess. . .
We were born with nothing and will die with that exact amount, and life is made up of every something and its neutralizing, necessary suffering. Every pain we endure is remnant of pleasure enjoyed, the necessary sacrifice.
There are 2 powers to every individual, a higher and a lower power. To pursue one, they must realize the other, so verifying the action of pursuit.
Everything in women is designed for men to realize the two, for women are "the two", as everything in men is designed for women to realize as the one, for they are "the one."
In separation of soul from body, all man and woman alike are realized the same, as the soul itself is the source of power.
Natural selection is designed, and the creatures and systems with the best design are, ideally, being naturally selected. that's survival of the fittest. It is clear that we are at the top of the current "food chain", or consumption bracket. But now, because we fight each other and seemingly automatically seek comfort, we have hit a road block. This is how past civilizations fall. It will take a cataclysm for all of us to believe in god, because thats what it will take to wipe out the nonbelievers.
Positive direction systematically eliminates misunderstanding, challenge, exclusion, violence, judgment and fear.
Sometimes, in answer to laziness, I find the secret is to never become comfortable, but I am also aware of the moderation I must strive for to avoid wearing myself out. I have come to workaholic breaking points, supplemented with bouts of self indulgence, and then neglect, like when i don't eat candy for awhile, then have a bag of gummi bears, freak out for fifteen minutes and incessantly drink water to recover for the next two hours. Everything happens in bursts, and too often I have admitted a transitory change too early as a lifelong one, like with quitting smoking or procrastinating.
This is not fun for me anymore, I'm losing my life. I need to quit smoking so I may get out of this god forsaken place, but before I do that I need to quit the band because it's not helping anything. I can't pretend we have a good, healthy, truly productive relationship. I love music, we all do, but we're exploiting ourselves, each other, and everyone else at a terrible, hate filled expense. I'm becoming an asshole, losing the people in my life that I love and only expecting something from the rest.
You have big plans, so do I. They are not the same.
I'm still young enough that I can do what I want without sacrificing my family, friends and self, but we're forcing it, living on the pins and needles of ill communication. I need to get out while I can still breathe, before I ruin music for myself.
I watched it happen, the craving disappeared, the function was synthesized. JUST IMPETUS
It kills me to see us living so destructively, like we could rise above this vortex. Or maybe we talk to much, talk ourselves in circles. Qualitatively, I'm not that selfish. The toxins are talking. I talk sin when i can't help myself.
I'm an improv player. I know its not necessarily easy to make something that sounds good, but like anything else all it takes is time and effort.
What if you're having fun while flying? How fast do you have fun for time to reach the speed of light?
To be yourself is a godly path and choice, as it is not a devilish one. But as that path is not godly, it is devilish, for no percievable path, or any other aspect of perception, is totally good or bad.
The reason for life is to find a reason for life which will explain: If this is my only chance. . . what's that?
The purpose of government should be to liquidate a country's assets for its own greatest good, to turn goods into good. We don't export goods anymore. We've found the good in bads. We were brought here by past expectations.
predictions, diets, getting better, outro, I don't want to do it myself, impossible, best years, quick strokes, priorities agendas, who your friends are, seal the sealion, Everybody must get stoned, emmet's ribs, Very detailed, pioneer with a sign and no ambition, complete happiness, it hurts like the truth
sovereignty, love, pain, this is a good idea, my helf is a concern, self-ish, A BEAUTIFUL THING. Ive smoked my share of cigarettes to this point, and though I may not have deserved it I do now, and will continue with enjoyment. consume! buy! product!
My grandma thinks I will be to bored in Port Harbour. I wish now that I had argued with her in that moment for externalised intrinsic sublimation, which is mainly what Ive found while living in the city.
I can't believe this chicken scratch could be considered dangerous, but it only is to me and those who believe my words. VICTIMHOOD, not, LOST IN THIS, CHAIN REACTION, SELF SUSTAINING, SATISFACTION, form follows function, STICKS and STONES, SUTCK INDOORS, BENEATH A LIGHT, IN MY CANVAS, BEING BLIND, no thy self, peas, littlegetting, BENEATHALIGHT, you kant hide, from a god, whos not, lookin, bedbugs, inconvenience
Why is the drunk driver the one to walk away from the accident? Why do good things happen to bad people? Why should a select few get all the good shit?
Before money, it was much more common for one to follow in their parents footsteps, inheriting family trades and land. These expectations still exist, but the promise of becoming, of manifest destiny, augments the dream, therefore the life, of both parent and child independently.
I still recieve checks on holidays from both grandmothers, and the marijuana I would otherwise present goods and services for, I can displace my guilt by working an honest job for honest pay, to pieces of what
"She was right I am like two people Mommy and daddy He had the knowledge and he had the love though we three tried our best to share both we could only ever pay attention to one And now that theyre gone I love to know and know to love. But where did I go?" I thought. I must have stumbled upon the answer without realizing it. "Is this separation truly necessary? Why shouldn't I give in?"
The fact of the matter was that I had learned my lesson, but that didn't mean I was learning my lesson still, let alone anyone else'. What I had done paled in comparison to what I wasn't doing. My world was turned upside down. your word's not mine
Vehelmetrics, burnsnicketry, falsos, disastronemialightinKrohma, burstrictinstrationstrotion, runnninng topspeeeddownhilllll, IDONTOLOPISCOPTICALINGUORTIA, go, guts, perture, proportionalisationalienator, INTELLIGASM, posible, dark like rrrr, The, displayal, SOPHALIANCITALPITISM, hahaha melptitudnalistra, cost cost cost cost cost, gelatin, holdon, dont aluminalirize, confortable, tasmiautism, spanshulator, vermelindologogue, diagonal, im gonnagohstickz
Terifiquez, VISHNO POSIBLE, HICUPUS HOWSAR OUTER, cosdats how eye feel aboutdat, discrepancy, donation, exploitation, syndicated pulse, proceed with the, delviatrino, millard ROSHMAND, TURBULENT MINE VALVE, COFFEEE, sparpi sparpi, pore, the, hilariousitics, fancy that, ARAMINDIANIA, ventrils, SQUARE ROOMS, present ation, vindicator, predicanted, dis-ease, fossilz, hear, VIR TUO NOM ETR ELM PTY NIA LER, brinmg on the bacon, syndicated pulse, dichometry, disrepute, vintreey, disxnaptryonilihtroniom
We may never have what we want, whatever it is, we may not have it. We are healthier and grow older than we may have been if we didn't have knowledge and materials that we do, but these materials and knowledge cause just as much detriment in excess as they do in abscence. Nothing has changed, only our perception has changed, and if this thing, our perception, is regarded as a changed thing, the elements which it is bound equally, inevitably is changed.
Positive Psychology studies happiness in the environment, outside of and opposing to the observing scientist, who therefore reciprocates unwittingly.
Tabula rasa Extension: Something, to be learned, first must be universally unlearned, revealed to be discovered and realized by the observer.
Truth must be pursued, because as much as we each hold evident truth, as everyone does their best with what they have, it actually exists as fluid and unpredictable as happiness, success, and pursuit itself.
Pursuing truth is ensuing happiness, pursuing happiness is inviting death. "The foremost reason happiness is so hard to achieve is that the universe was not designed with the comfort of human beings in mind." Implication of intelligent design (mind), comfort as happiness as the opposite of discontent
Considering mankinds turmoil, props on completing the book. I hope you're happy, you haven't changed a thing.
The universe is only indifferent because it balances itself, it is equal proportion of yes and no. You may realize who I am, but he will not until I am no longer. Its not a state to be reached as much as simply realized and perpetuated.
The quality of life is based on attitude, and is different in some aspect for everyone. Identity is recursive evidence of free will. Contradiction is existence.
You can't support a part without supporting the whole.
"To be or not to be, that is the question." "To be and not to be, that is the answer." In the beginning was creation. Something came from nothing. I think you had to have been there, like anything else for it to make sense. Now, we have to make sense of it for ourselves, and not. When we are born, we become seperate people, perceptions filtering the universe, becoming worlds.
Someone may have asked you whether The Glass is half full or empty, or mindlessly quoted Shakespeare. If to be or not to be is the question, then to be and not to be is the answer. If the question were a yes or no question, in other words, the answer would be no.
Do we jump the fence and fuck the grass, only to enviously watch nature level our untended gardens? When I think of webehebe, he gives me the heebeejeebeeS
I don't want to feel sorry for myself but I have to because I don't have anyone else to feel sorry for. I pushed her away and I don't want her back because I'm scared it will be different but I will never change. I want to suffer just for myself, I want to give up expectation, I want to make seperate individual holes I want someone to hear and understand, someone as beautiful as I remember, someone I don't want to fuck over and leave. I am someone, I have ability, and with everything i do, a new guiding voice, a new expectation.
It can only come out of pain, for my camera, so i can remember who I am, so i can learn from my history and help the children. What children? Why does this feel good? Do I need to start over? May it be that simple? How can I afford to go away? Its my only chance, my only choice between one or the other, always right in terms of what I'm looking at. I've been there before, They'll laugh at me, until I do something. Then they'll cry and wont believe what I have done. And I'll go far from tears to laughs. Maybe we were understood at some centerpoint.
The world and all things within are finite only in the present tense, when they are presentor presently concieved in thought. What is true but perpetuated present? Only individuals have growth rates of zero, relative to the constantly fluctuating systems surrounding.
There is an infinitely complex fine line running through everything that makes all the difference in the universe. It separates every thought, every perception, into an indecipherable mountain of layers. This is duality. We can't think of more than 2 things at any one time, point a and point b. Every electrical pulse in your brain is trading from one to another, our concept of time is moving from the past to the future. It is actually our mind that breaks down the concepts into 2 parts, because we percieve direction, movement, vibration.
I never had the ideal father; the ideal father doesn't exist. On outings, it'd be strange if he came along, it'd be an awkward special event if he took us anywhere. My mother, my siblings and I were happy enough without him as our group, and I don't blame him for feeling left out. Our mother saturated us with her opinions of him, so the thing I did notice about him came with a negative spin. My own father was a mysterious joke to me. The best father is the one who doesn't have children.
I have ultimate happiness and confidence and not only is it free, it's better. It causes me to spend less money to the point where the thing I was always worried about, I never am now.
Presage: predict, give a warning of
People do things to save their comfort, homes, countries, their own butts, and other people. If there's any one reason, they're sacrificing a better world for all reasons left unconsidered. The only way to combat hypocrisy is to do your best. Assholes can be honest, the nicest people can lie to your face. Miracles can't happen until you can imagine them.
Drugs keep us here, as much as any other thing does, we take our chances, with glass of water, qwestions and ancers. Im not ready, for another, tattoo I just, got here. q q q I dontrust, I dontburn, I dontfuck, I dontlurn. innocent, preservation, its going to be a hot summer. dont marry your wannas dont ab use, IM IT, nothing, all in my hebd
itll be very interesting, to see how you twist, my words and use them, against me.
Im wruindd, Ive seen enouf, harmful harmful harmful stuff. pretty ass a picture. Life is beautiful while youre young, but dont ask why
The only thing that makes love real is our perception. A world without love is not worth experiencing. Misperception of love is common. To say any one thing is the reason the world goes round is only part of the truth when we can actually trace to our personal love for the thing. Yes, it might make our own world go round, and therefore the rest of the world, but the "therefore"  when we declare what makes the world go rould, we reveal our perception.
In a world where love does not exist, which we can only imagine, is a world without consciousness, which can only exist because within our imagination. A world completely disconnected from consciousness does not exist.
Love is the positive direction of human experience. From our perspective as humans, it makes everything happen. A version of love is the ultimate reason anything happens. It is a human word
Everything happens for a reason, even if the particular reason is only obvious from a withdrawn viewpoint, such as through the passage of time or desensitization. Our physical world is governed by cause and effect. Everything that happens within nature, including human function, has good and bad elements, but the ultimate reason humans do anything is love.
I'm here to preserve the legacy that we have distracted ourselves from. This life goes beyond any one man, group, religion, economy, country, corporation, law, world, beyond everything we know, beyond everything we don't know and never will. Science is a distraction, man's discovery of the simplest forms of natural creation. Invention is manipulation.
This is our world to manipulate, to create or destroy. Every act of destruction means death for everyone.
Science doesn't prove; it only disproves (history proves). We mustnt separate ourselves anymore. We can have what we want, but it has to be for the best for everything. Want for yourself is destruction, greed. I am preventhing imminent doom. We must practice to work together, to live together, in perfect harmony. Evil is on the way, more evil than we understand, and we need to get past our own problems so we can deal with them. We need to stop interrupting the beautiful flow. It's not about running away, hiding from the world. You can't, you'll always be in it. We need to know ourselves, so we can know others. So we can know the world.
Idolator. Imbroglio. We must be friendly, we must know each other, so we can work together. If we don't, we can't ask for help, and we can't help each other. We mustn't panic, there's no  reason to.

Wednesday, February 26, 2014

Only Just: Exploits of a dark matter technician, Part FoUr

LIFET LIVYTH


         
Speaking backwards to the dog because I know he understands. My nephew’s mother is not here, I have not seen her again this year. My own mother took me to a 3D movie yesterday and the megastore today while I played albums in both directions. Tea, incense, and songs are in a sense ideal timers.

        My room is a portion of the family room separated by a folding screen. This is where I am while I’m here but this time maybe it’s not just a place, because I don’t have one, not one I expect to return to. Now this is a home within a home, up and away and so removed. I am taken care of at unknown expense.

        I’m rough at the neck without razors and well fed so I have a state of concentration. Men and women are not my concern as I deal with neither, only warm reflections and microscopic fundamentals.

        My time has come and settled in darkness. I miss no one I never realize, I am not actually concerned when it all is such a joke. Nobody pays attention if they don’t care, if they don’t feel like it. Right place, right time to remember something someone else wrote down. I will never get in because I’m not out, my variable presence is so thoroughly misunderstood because it seems cheap. It is cheap. It’s redundant, cliche and stupid, thoughtful regurgitated depressing hogwash fuckall bestial lovely plainclothesman, synchronized organisms.

April May

         

I’m in a fictional relationship, with a beautiful fictitious girl. She reminds me of the spring, just before the world becomes unbearable again. Her voice melts as I speak to her, the flame invisible that burns us up alive. Self fulfilling immolation. My being is meaningless without her, without her love, respect and understanding, without her eyes of slaughter, meeting mine. I am entranced at the peak of inspiration, a loss of worlds at the landscape of rolling shoulders and shadows. Join us now in unending focus, where attributes and properties are ours alone. We have sought recognition in those that say no, we have impressed upon them our undying passion, remaining thrill of mechanics. Did they send me here to win her, because the cost is great. I have only everything to lose, tripping and falling all expenses paid. I do not want to share our warmest secrets, suspended in splendor with shady wings magnificent. I don’t because I can’t, defeating purpose and meaning. I’ve lost my way into hiding, her exploits are the skyscraper pinnacle of life and all exuberant nature. It only hurts to be away while I can, while I can stomack it, because I’ve learned to starve my human spirit, the one who endured those years of abuse and darkness for benefit, profit. We vibrate together wherever we are, undeniably, from the core of hope and belief. I only ran away when she did, I cried when it rained, the day she left. Its okay, we’ll find each other some tomorrow, its not a trick. They want what’s best for you and me. It’s impossible to detail such exquisite design tonight. I am not tired, I’ve simply realized myself as the dreamer, only sleeping for her.


COMING FOR GRANTED
“I wrote the book on time travel”

I can’t believe that people are still concerned with their comfort, that the world is still flat but not quite a square yet.
Everything happens for a reason, especially discord. When I am strung up and out at least I know there’s still strings that hang to be pulled.
If there’s anything I’ve learned from the sting it’s that you should never trust a marx. I don’t know the difference between a moustache, but distractions come in all shapes and sizes. If you’re not a bad guy or a good guy then you’re not a main character. People often ask me how I expect to make a living, or money for that matter, because making a movie is expensive. But time is money and it’s all about who you know, regardless of cliche. The truth is, all of us are victims of embellishment, while many if not most are victims of linguistics.


Unbeknownst: Exploits of a dark matter technician, Part thrEE

          



“Americans do not know rest. They know work and play and all else is hidden behind their willful ignorance. They spit on fish and teach duck to swim. I am proud of them and their input, their influence on my life. That is why we have chosen the best of them, to get his point across and to save the herd.
          “I know I do not speak for many when I say there is no peace for the wicked. They know not what they do only until after they do it.”

-Dr. Mark Stenson, the H.D.C.

Bastard Nation
Legalize What
American Disease
Deaf Café
Dream Come True
A Void Dance
Moving Picture
Written Water
Map of Europe
PROWORTH
the yesterday of tomorrow

X     The Product of Good is a Product of EVIL








HAPPIE’S DAILY BREAD                                                  
10/15/57

          Fact brings us what fiction doesn’t. Which comes first the stove or the oven? Everything will work out in the everything will work out in the end. Time deserved as money spent. Write as if you meant to say it, no thought to what might know. Rushing from the dazzling fascet. Wearing the clown. Suit your case your upset palindrome. Cease to become in vegetative fruition, no room for vacant stairs going up coming down. Lesbian potpourri, dividing home and less, expunge or excuse the drug order referee. Arbitrary armistice, spare feelings of lying on the cold cold cold. Haven of prismatic subtleties, nineteen left in the early morning. I told you this wouldn’t calm down and so you turned your bedside to the cheek and called it neworldordor. NeworlDodor. Nuerldorgy. Members of constants lend me your penknife as I surely write this down. Things leapt from a flustered mind across the lot and apon a crumbling billfold. Disaster. Nuance. Leptosy! I am a stricken mantis of ergonomic proportion. Haven of prismodic pleasantEAS that haven been a round too long. They like it because they know they’re right. She doesn’t love herself anymore and never again. It was lost to the fire in the sky that one, came in and went just like I told it would. I haven taught you anything if you still don’t know. Everything will work out in the everything will work out in the everything will work out in the
Synopsis for interviewer

          Her eyes were like sunsets just after lunch. Though she sat only on the other side of the table she doesn’t realize it’s her I’m thinking of. And how could she? Much like a version without consideration. . . she’s been around the block a few times but is tired of the same old schtick if you know what I mean. She’s tried the lamb and saves room for dessert, I just hope she doesn’t lose taste for a fine cheese.
       Dream Come True is about what I would have done otherwise, to save the love of my life I lost twice in similar circumstances, once in the fourties and again in the seventies. Maybe a sheer coincidence, but of course our like souls transcend all, ‘meant to be’ type of recursive love story. She she she It’s like the next miracle on 34th street inasmuch as it is a little bit for everybody, some intrigue, some thrills, no blood but plenty of nudity; no penetration. Not even implied. We don’t want them getting ideas of their own.
       Blundering partners, fumbling idiots, full of respect and motivation and nothing else. Motivated by each others sexual morality.
       A new day, with each open eye. Unoriginal sin, pious bias, I believe in conspiracy, I am interested in principle, Scarecrow Copcar, Treat me like a symptom, Down to Earth, up for that. Anachronistic radio, apocalyptic clock. Landmarks.

Mynot

       I have been awake since before the sunrise and the water from the tap that I drink from my plastic coke bottle tastes like grape skins. The conspiracy of reason becomes apparent like the tingle of coarse salt against my lower gum line. There is certainly too much snow here for the likes of me and our purposes.
       Intimidation will bless you with destiny and doom in this world, with pain anguish and discomfort. I take my stand sitting down from where they get hardly arise from out of me. I know my story better than anyone, I could tell you with my eyes closed.
       I know what time it is but still am not sure if it is day or night.
       There are people on board who speak to each other without moving their muths. I do not think that they know that I know, they might not even though its happening, out of the corner of my eye and I turn my head. It is their voice I know it is, but their mouths are not open and their lips are not moving. And they speak of the most mundane matters, like where we’re going and what the time is, I think its like a self check game. I have no compromise on this trip personally, but everyone here is welcoming and leisurely as usual, from the passengers to the attendants so its alright.
       We’re taking a twenty minute break in the magic city for refueling and loading, I’ll probably step outside for five minutes or so. Why not? We shall certainly see.
Atheism’s Funny

         

It smells like French fries at S1. Dr. Dobson is a flight attendant this time. Nobody knows what to think of me as I appreciate the sunrise. I’ve been there, before approximately the same time last year.
       I can’t tell if this is the radio version thats of diffused polarity or natural distortion of the airplane. The nostalgia of safety, clarity is the drug and it is short lived. I still have the camouflage lighter I bought in Kenmore for $2.79.

      
“Y’know, in some cultures you don’t think until you mind.”

      
Please take a moment to familiarize yourself with the surroundings and do not be concerned with that which you do not understand. Secure your own mask. Safe and in a coma.
       How can I miss someone I’ve never met? I don’t want to share her sorrows but it’s hard to argue with regrets.

      
just goes to show, his bitter and urban servant serves him both.


The Stanhope

         

The place was fully furnished only as she was apart of everything.
          I find myself thinking all the time of someone else. I slit the window and took the bottom bunk, the dark one, designated the upper for work and design.
          It was as if I had been here my whole life. I began pulling stone figures from a set of drawers and finding places for each upon the set and above the door. She pointed and said “does this sound good?” and yet I heard nothing but the screams of pigs and rice being slaughtered.
          She was outside maintaining the grounds, hacking down invasive plants and watering edible herbs. The chaos wore by her matched the houndstooth in our eyes, I had planned on living by myself until she suggested moving in and making it more comfortable. It proved a venture deserving endless analysis and research.
          Someone moreover has cast a spell on me, I feel it in hindrance and repetition. Long hallways lined with long hallways lined with long hallways. I made a circuit of the store looking for electronics and noticed a section that was blocked to the public.
          A steady breeze passed between the panes of bulletproof glass, sawdust and snowflakes clogged an inflamed artery in red.
          Two men moved in as we, did leave as we were settling. The place that dreams are made of also happens to be where are greatest fears, are nightmares, our produced and manufactured. She was late as usual so I ordered without her, it was packed so I didn’t even get a drink. What I thought she would like had feta instead of ricotta.
          I was provoked to leave, out the door and up the street, and found myself carrying a doggybag, which I had lit up and left on his porch.
          I had taken 205 but someone was already there, and I realized I was supposed to be up in 304.



VACCUUM SPECIES


          I’ve met you before, you are the true believer. We know it doesn’t matter because its just a matter of time. We are waiting through hell and high heaven, even though we are doomed to walk at every expense. Someone is always watching, at any given time, taken for granted at this point on earth. The legend is key, the symbolism, the one and only zero repeated to infinity.

       You have your hands in something dirty and that only makes it cleaner. Freedom tastes better when you’ve had something to lose or to keep, you made that choice from the very beginning without regret, second thought or question, those beings obviously different.

       Magic means sharing everything, gray clouds and beards, old world disease and words, money and filth. I am angry that they’ve never thought of it before. It makes so much sense just waiting to be fulfilled, escaping extremity to the eye of the beholder. Pain is a warning, it hurts when its wrong, when the light touches the smoke and bursts into flame, when the air gets to it when it has nowhere to go and nothing better to do. We’ve forgotten what the summit looked like, how many were there and what they accomplished. Yet becoming president still isn’t what it was eighty-seven years ago.
RED BEEVER, MEET EATOR

         
Last night was my first day at the new job and I tell you there’s some real lookers there. I had my briefcase with me the whole time because I didn’t know where I could put it down but it was probably the plexiglass that kept me off the fireman pole. We had watched Sabrina and their office building had an elevator but it wasn’t much different.
        The night before the band had all the gear set up on stage but I couldn’t find my bass so they played through the first song without me, I think they were probably mad at me and had hidden it for some reason. One of the patronsfinally mentioned that it was in the bathroom so I went and found it, lying horizontally on the counter all the way to the back, and I think it was actually my first electric bass, the ESP 5-string that I had given to Ryan years ago. I don’t remember actually playing any songs that night; I was distracted by the toilet, the one and only toilet, that was oriented directly in front of the restroom entrance, without a stall, and the room itself did not have a door. I thought that was very strange so I guess I must’ve woken up right then.

        My throat has been sore and crooked for the past twenty four hours or so, I guess I’m still getting over cancer and subliminal messages, I guess its ironic that I must inflict inflection of affected infection. My crazy family is here, my stupid one is there, they know not what they do because they may have thumbs and pants but they don’t wear glasses.

Tuesday, February 25, 2014

Victims of Generalization: Exploits of a dark matter technician, Part TwO

Ruining it for the Rest of Us


I tend to push myself much too hard in ways that I don’t have to. We are certainly in this together, this phase, this period and existence. This is the blue age, borne of ghosts and the yellow sun. The powers that be don’t know the discontent, how could they and how could they be?

        I will get my point across at all expense and little cost. A sacrifice situation where we can have it all but not all at once and in this moment. The truth is made of fiction, it lies in vegetative fruition. Here we are with sharp pain and flavour, brilliant light and excruciating headspace. The armature is lost to the text, the harm is justified as a test.
       
The other half of acceptance is letting go, a double negative without a name. The certainty of unlawful terror is upon us all as we push on without recourse of patterned circumstance. Sometimes it went without saying, the care we were granted and subjected to, seemingly with little question or regard. The smallest voice is lost in the dark, shrinking like the paranoid flame.
       
Exactly how great can this world really be? Who decides? Is it just a matter of time before we reach our place to shine? I don’t believe in my own solitude as my words constitute the finest line between past and future, a rocky one with countless tribulations. Each story still in its pages outlines certain diction and then tension, every fleeting persistence is a mutual love of desperate coherence, for it is still only true if one feels it as they hear it and then compute enough to describe thus as such that they may say they are more than merely alive, that we may be convinced.

In the outdoors

       
You know the content quality based on the captions, their opinions, if it’s live or if they’re trying to win you over, if the company cares or the caption writer, if they’re a man, woman, or machine. Victims are everywhere but at least they’re getting Paid. Who knew when we were younger that we’re actually half of an awesomer animal? I believe in conspiracy which is increasingly harder to admit but it’s really the only way to protect an investment, a good idea. It’s really happening more often than not if it’s happening at all. Where are we on the ecliptic right now? Are there witches living in your neighborhoods or only their safeguards, because you’re a moneymaker, because you have family? Are you angry and you don’t know why? There are powers in play that we still don’t realize, because if anything not just as above so below. 2 is just as much as we can handle in that regard, in the context of 2.
        And who knew that originality and cliche really just come down to whether this is happening, happened, or will happen, what are the chances? A gambler only has to win once and infinitely more losses because who is to say?
        Nothing is what it was anymore and forever so cherish it while you’re old and dying in the limelight by yourself, we’ll all get our chance to prove our point and time only tells our failings. Nothing matters and it is nobody’s, we intrinsically understand beauty because it plays upon an undiscovered part, works in mysterious ways, and its all been said before but this time it’s for you so you know its more important because they won’t and will not be the same, they don’t spin gold like they used to.

Sexy Time Chauffeur


        Public education is a [valuable waste] because everyone wants to be a genius but nobody is. They should have to go through it because we went through with it and so on.
          Everything I took for granted is still with me, subtlely. We have met in the middle as usual, as often as I have called.
          Subtle inflection, I have no basis to understanding. I do not want to be retaught, but if I must I am expected of any regard. I am not yet ready to feed my enemy’s children, for we too have been made to suffer by the invisible promise that we will and do and must go on, the song inevitable, the desire compromised.
          I had forgotten how a universe works, at the exact cost of why. I too believe in conspiracy, that I am left to die alone in the best way possible, and that means never again. Where is your hurry? At home where you left it of course, it was too nice this morning to deal with such a contraption.
          We are relatable because we want to be. If you were a spider I would be a spider and we would fuck the little bugs because that’s what they’re known for. Their inescapable two-dimensional spiral. The contrast is even harder to avoid. They never seen this coming, the once in a lifetime exposure that comes with a morning of regret. You try too hard. Take your shoes off and have a beer. The molecules are less metallic than those from the tap though they are less clear and therefore more untrustworthy.
          I believe in silence as a way to say something just and without meaning. STOP FREAKING OUT you have a lot of good ideas that aren’t going nowhere, you’re putting yourself through too much pain for the sake of a double negative. Only weeds grow here so we import goods on trucks and ships that are refridgerated and not very fast. It’s only a joke if you get it, then it’s a story that’s better taken sitting down with low overhead light and a place to bounce ideas off or at least record them for future generations. I am left handed and I am writing with my left hand with red ink at 6 in the morning on kitchen paper and ROYALS and BLURRED LINES are not by Katy Perry.
       

































The Transient Solicitor from Guatemala at 12:30 am

       


Do you even know why you came here tonite? This perception of yours where respect and consideration fail to meet, well I will not let you get away with it. I don’t care much of your insight and disposition yore wasting my time. Sure you can come in out of the cold, take your shoes off and you will not get them back.
       Do you want a drink? Hot or cold? I will make a compromise as I go, incorporate the excrement to the Sacred Place. I found it a nuisance before the necessity and obligation but now I see you’ve got nowhere to go and this is what my handwriting really looks like.
       You should not care to make those sorts of generalizations. You will not let me leave because you don’t understand me and what I’m doing here. This is your house and I want it.
      
      
      
I’m not sure if the first solicitor is meant to be there as a part of regress, or a simple interrupt.
          Distractions around every corner. I don’t like this one. They have an air about them that is so. . . violent. We will not get along.
          This Job is your job, this Job is my job, from pickin garbage, to pickin options, from all the small ones, to all the pawn shops, this job was made for you and me.

objective of the DMT

       The darkness of silence, I have taken the liberty of knowing how it will end. I see a little bit of it within each and everything that surrounds me. This is right. This is how it was supposed to be and could not be any other way. My inflection may only be met by my intention.
       You didn’t have to tell me about wasting time. I was thinking about going on a diet. The kind that fixes the spirit, the soul. It’s nothing to be afraid of but must be nourished because there are a lot of small people in this world who are a lot of talk and they must be fed if we expect them to keep quiet.
       So give them something good to watch, over and over, so they may understand and it doesn’t have to be loud or distracting or bright or intelligent. It needs a place, a time and place, a person and a time and place with something to do, somewhere to go and something to see. They do not yet realize that with every ladder climbed one must come back down and it takes more than nothing to do so. Somewhere between something and nothing, which could be approximately one or zero, or two. But definitely at least one.

       It has to happen 99 times for the sake of understanding. We know the difference between one and zero, but what they have in common might be nine, and then somehow eleven makes sense, ten times. But only as nine. Nine times. In the ones place. And the zero.

Sunday, February 23, 2014

Anything Helps: Exploits of a dark matter technician, Part ONe

The Book was Better


            My father was not a storyteller, feelings have no form, words are not action and I was barely born. My perception has always built up, always stayed the same. Every breakthrough is hardly a change. The odds of elegance is the grace of eloquence. The cost of consequence simplifies the remainder. Ambiguous discrepancy management eliminated technology, the deficiency of human error. Discipline is ignorant of flavour.
          My brother is very much my father’s son and my sister my mother’s daughter, and yet I am my own, at sheer odds of my own world. I know my own birth as well as my own death, under assumption of its existence.
          I know what books are, they are either what movies were or what they will be. We are grandfathered into this system and like to forget who started it. We are only twice removed but sometimes it seems so difficult just to pick up the phone, just to say hello. It is expensive, the expense to toil over just so we may have the option of perspective, the opportunity of perception.
          I know what you’re doing. I’m not going to let it stand. I’m following your rules so they may forget, so I may remember; I am my own, you have seen to that.
          His hair turned red as soon as I knew he was becoming angry with me. It was obvious that he was shaking because I was. Maybe I should declare my candidacy as a free man. Maybe I’m afraid for no good reason. Maybe I’ve been lying for all the wrong ones.
          An impossible situation, we don’t understand how this can be, me as you and you as me. We confused her with our misleading argument, two trucks fully fueled.
          Does our house like you better than me, can it tell the difference? Do the neighbors understand what they see? Has this really all been happening to me?
          Let’s celebrate our repetition and dance to demonstrate admission, regrets are far and few between, so listen good to see what I mean. It doesn’t matter what people say, we’ll get around fine anyway. I’ve been stoned so long that now, it doesn’t matter anyhow. Retrace the steps so long as they count, no matter how deep the quicksand is we loose the noose and jimmy the lock so we may in time get out.
           

Blink Ink

      
“Angels no longer have wings when they realize there’s nowhere left worth flying to.”
       Upon waking you have been given an ice cream cone. You have never seen one before but you know exactly what it is, and upon this realisation its continual 2-dimensional frame becomes seemingly fake, you forgetting the simple names you thought you knew. Alternating darkness shrouds both the ice cream and its frame, and you have no ideal urge to reach out and grab it. You’re already holding it. The dessert is pink, perfectly formed and unmalting. It doesn’t even seem cold. The medical office where you are inclined doesn’t even seem occupied, and you know it’s late, it’s probably dark outside but the room doesn’t have windows. You take a bite and plummet back into unconsciousness, but it’s okay, you still have a sense of flavour and an overwhelming trust in your rigor mortis like grip, assuring you from dropping it. The substance moves in your mouth, over and around your tongue, and the flute gets louder and louder from over the mountain. Your entire plane of perception goes pink from behind closed lids as the sun slowly rises over the mountain. Birds chime in with morning song, as well as a clarinet and lightly rolling timpany. When you now open your eyes, ice cream doesn’t exist yet.


      
I knew I had lived a lifetime with her, retracing my steps and I don’t want to lose it. She had put the cat in the bag. She developed a crutch and was slowly changing.
the elevator was broken.
I was in socks
I had a drug problem
I knew by her acne that she was younger than me, Asian grace Kelly. She touched me and I touched back, under the dark sun. My friends would disapprove, we were too similar to everything we once cherished and now remember. Her family liked me because I was so out of place, I didn’t make sense and they wanted to understand. But as we left the restaurant I placed their god on the trashcan; I had no other choice, I was in a big hurry. The only other white people were two female sushi chefs who bowed as we left.

Yes They Could

          Cursive is a dying art; I swear the next generation will have no idea what I’m talking about. We don’t need it, not in the age of passwords, those essentially personal beings. It’s not our name, number or combination but a reciprocal, something required to prove it’s us. Otherwise it could be anyone, just as long as they’re here and now.
It doesn’t make sense to argue anymore, to inflict bloodshed or to expect death. The only difference makes all the difference, between you and me, man and woman, immortality and eternal life. The only way to press on is to push the envelope, when we only get tired of keeping it to ourselves.
I am a genius, an expert, a professional. I don’t care what others say or do because they don’t exist, not like we do, nowhere near as well. Very possibly they will have their time or have had it, just as well, in the blink of a weeping eye it’s gone, blurred from memory, never to return. All that remains is the fundamental truth that we’re all in this together, regardless of gender and sex.
We will not, may not move forward unless and until we agree. It is our job to convince each other, to ring a bell and call it a key, to break the bread we were told to so long ago and far from here.

A ticking alarm clock fades in and explodes. . .

          They call them duezies here because if you’re wielding one it’s practically impossible not to end up in a duel, and someone thought they should have a cute nickname. Harvey shot me twice in the gut and I lay there feeling myself bleed out as I thought about him running down the corridor, up the stairs, then confidently striding across the lobby and back to where he was sitting, picking up his newspaper where he left off and lighting another cigarette. Or maybe Truman had been following him. Maybe he had to casually walk out that door, hail a cab and lose him in afternoon traffic. Or maybe my hunch was right all this time, maybe it’s all in my mind and I just shot myself twice in the gut. Anyway, it’s not going to bring April back, I know that much.
          Now that I think about it, I haven’t been shot. I’m lying down because I was tired, I’m not bleeding out. My eyes aren’t even open. I’m sleeping in the hotel basement because I’m hiding, hiding from someone who does not exist. Jesus Christ, how was I supposed to know I’m just a character in a story, one I came up with and wrote down? It only keeps happening over and over because I keep reading it, a little different every time because of where I am and how I feel. I only really didn’t care about her when she told me she didn’t care about me anymore, as if she ever did, but that’s still not gonna bring her back.
          Now where was I? Where have I been? Oh yeah, a ticking alarm clock explodes, an insignificant action. This world was invented when the slave decided to be its own master and not the other way around.
          I don’t know what her question means to me anymore, I don’t even remember how she put it, what she looks like. Who is April May? She could be anybody, any slight subtlety that possesses me to a second glance. Because it only has to happen twice.
          The average lifespan of a human is nine months, which is completely relative, the formative consumption is due to the light that hits it. We’re all in this together, this Hell, with airtight talents and a proclivity to jealousy, for power, for the other half, for vice. Take care of yourself, she said, but not because she wants to see me again. No, just the opposite. She doesn’t want to care anymore, not for me. I told her not to worry, that means it’s over for us. A lot of good we’ve done each other; I’m broke and she’s poor. It doesn’t matter. In a world of hurt it doesn’t matter.
          The low hum caught my attention and then I noticed the shadows moving, no longer standing still, a creature of wrath, a choking sentinel for enduring residue. My friend, I know who I am and what I have become, the terror of my own heart, my father, the true calling of justice.
         
King Richard of Potatoe

          I am a dark matter technician amid harbingers of desultory circumlocution, I used to think we were the same until I realize our clashing epistemologies, our antagony, that we don’t really get along. What we have is not love, not for each other, and we are too far from each other learning to get it right.
       I’m the guy that cares for everything you take for granted, you don’t need examples because that’s my job and I’m sick of it. I’m sick of the same thing over and over. It’s time for a change.
       As long as I write I only become more right, only become more of a writer. I forget how easy it is to fix things because everywhere I look is a solution that I don’t really want. They are only there to fix the mistakes of others.
       I’ve been getting nausea quite frequently too, a very physical reminder that I can’t do this forever even if I wanted to. I’m not living here like I have to even though I do. To make a choice is to choose and it doesn’t really matter anyway.
       It will get colder soon only after it remains warm, the moment of forever is closing in you’re doing a good job keeping up.

Toxic Markers

         

I found myself in her room again, a master of self control. My underwear were crumpled on the floor in the daylight and I was going through her jeans looking for ones that might fit. She was in the other closet watching a small television inside hanging clothes. “You gotta see this one,” she said.
        I had just been all the way downstairs, at church, where I had been midwriting my band’s name on an elaborately geometrical glow in the dark surface when an uncontrollable filth obviously took over and I had to get out of there. It was dark but I found the switch for the overhead fluorescence. My mind was racing as I thought where I could go to get cleaned up, but I was only still drawn to the room.

        Perpetual daylight, they’ve thought of everything. Why have I been living in a cave when it’s been so gorgeous lately? Have I done something wrong? Of course, if I can’t remember, I must’ve lost my place whilst dramatically avoiding cliche. It naturally hurts to be wanted only when you know they hate you back, that it will be over soon and it won’t make a fucking lick of sense. I’m indifferent to her charm, her sensible ways, because well, I don’t want to hurt her feelings but I just don’t find her attractive. She’s got a winning smile that I don’t believe, that I find misleading and it’s only a matter of time before she hates me back. That’s why she won’t help me. She’s sick of the sight of me. Can’t stand to be around.

Monday, February 3, 2014

Rules

1. If it doesn't have a name, I'm not playing.
   
     1a. If it doesn't have a title, it's for me.

2. There are no secrets.

3. To win is to get your point across; the object is a trophy.

4. The one with the closest upcoming birthday goes first.

5. Wins are directly proportional to losses.

6. The only difference is a matter of time.

7. The goal is to score a task

     7b. The task is to score a goal.

     7a. The score sets the field.

8. Ambiguous discrepancy management must save the world so that externalised intrinsic motivation may save the world.

9. Don't sleep at the office.

     9a. Make all calls during the day (10 a.m. -10 p.m.)

10. A single rule is meant to be broken.