Do not gently go where Norman has gone before. Do not think the kitchen but water. Mindful of around, you softly certain cries and so it begins again.

a1a1a2a1a a1a1a2a1a

Marsha, lovely Marsha.

Endowed with a passion - a charge - for all things sweet and sugary. High-fructose corn syrup chills on the windowsill.

She assembles cupcakes. Scrumptious, delicate, eat-’em-down-to-the-bone cupcakes. It takes my breath away how wacky these cupcakes are.

Smiley faces on her cupcakes! The gall, the absolute gall! But she does it.

“I’m not one for swirls!” she says and boy do I believe her. I mean, the proof is in the tray. Icing patterns of stars, of roses, of dots, of sunshine.

I love Marsha in her role. I truly do. More than anything, I love that she owns it.

“I am Marsha, the Californian Cupcake Queen!” she screams from the top of a medium-sized hill in her small town in her big country on her pale blue dot in her milky way galaxy, and I’ll stop zooming out here ‘cuz I’m getting a lil’ excited myself–

“Knock ‘em dead!” I want to tell her, but I catch myself before the words escape my lips. “You get those cupcakes!” I say in lieu. Words far more suitable for a queen.

Amidst the stir of this bubbly, positive energy, and the mixing of eggs, milk, and flour, I–

Hear a voice call out from nowhere.

“Will you always love Marsha, no matter what?” the void asks me.

Hah. Wow. Not even gonna dignify that one with a response, my good sir. Who the heck with a clear conscience and a functional soul wouldn’t have some love for the mother-effin CALIFORNIAN CUPCAKE QUEEN? I MEAN, C’MON?

The crowd roars.

“Like, SERIOUSLY?!?! ARE WE LIKE, FIVE OR SOMETHING?”

I have them in the palm of my hands.

“ARE WE FUCKING STUPID OR SOMETHING??? LOW EQ MAYBE?”

The crowd’s on fire - they’re gonna blow the roof off the joint.

“I DIDN’T REALIZE WE WERE DUMB CHOO CHOO TRAIN SMALL BRAINED FUCKING MORONS NOT APPRECIATING THE FUCKING BRILLIANCE OF OUR GODDAMN CALIFORNIAN CUPCAKE QUEEN YOU FUCKING PEASANTS YOU STUPID FUCKING PEASANTS YOU FUCKING IDIOTS YOU FUCKING MORONS YOU FUCKING PIECES OF FUCKING SHIT YOU STUPID FUCKING FUCKS WHO ACTUALLY THINK YOU CAN STOP THIS FUCKING VIBE BUT YOU CAN’T ‘CAUSE THIS IS FUCKING ENERGY AND THERE’S NO - NO SEPARATION BETWEEN MY MIND AND MY MOUTH I AM A FORCE I AM A FUCKING FORCE–”

I watch Marsha watch the sunset.

She wants to leave.

She’s always wanted to leave.

My own Truman.

I don’t know when this whole thing started.

I sit with her.

“I just… don’t want to be a caricature anymore,” she says.

“Yeah.”

“I’m born of alliteration, primarily.”

I chuckle a bit. “Yeah.”

“No, it’s not funny. It’s actually not funny. I know it sounds stupid but it actually just really, really sucks. It sucks that who I am is just, a bit. A bit based on… consonants. Fucking consonants. My personality is based on consonants!”

“Well, your personality isn’t. Just your character, yeah?”

“Sure, but I am my character–”

“You’re not your character–”

“I am my character because you made me my character, and you won’t let me be someone else.”

“I… won’t let you be someone else because the world outside of this story is fucking weird and creepy and scary and–”

“That’s for me to learn. That’s for me to understand. You know I won’t become who I actually am unless I cross that bridge myself.”

“What if you break your leg? What if you get eaten by a snake?”

“What if I don’t? What if good things happen? What if I fall in love? What if I find my dream job? My dream apartment. my dream community, my dream… everything?”

Marsha, you have no clue.

I watch the sunset. The plastic, manufactured sunset.

I pull the switch in my heart.

It takes a minute to kick in.

“Please,” she continues. “Just… please. I don’t want to be a… cupcake queen anymore.”

Ahead of us, the grass and dirt sink into the ground. They become an elegant staircase leading into the depths.

An exit. From here anyways.

It takes her a moment, in her morose state, to realize what’s been granted her.

An exhale to ground herself, and then she turns to me.

“I can leave?”

“I don’t want you to,” I say, “But yes, you don’t have to be here anymore.”

Her eyes get glossy.

“You don’t have to be a cupcake queen anymore,” I affirm.

She hugs me with all of her wonderful soul. “Thank you,” she says.

She gets up. A soft jog to her freedom. She looks back one more time before gracing the passageway with her steps. She disappears into the mystery of it all.

And then she’s gone. Gone forever. And I’ll never see her again.

I hear the void stir.

“You know where she’s gone to, don’t you?”

“Yes. She’s in hell now. Where she’ll be tortured for eternity.”

“If you stop loving her, it’ll hurt less.”

“Sure.”

“You tried your best to get her to stay.”

I look up at the mirage of dead stars and endless-yet-ending abyss, created for us by the Lord who is always testing us.

What do you do when the creator who birthed you has a more primitive moral compass than the oldest of your ancestors?

The void hears my thoughts. “You learn to let go. So it won’t hurt as much.”

Huh. As always, I take his words into consideration.

But ultimately, I resign towards hope. The same hope that destroys and betrays me every time I fall in love.

A blank page falls from the heavens. It seems as if the Lord expects another creation.

I begrudgingly mark the page with ink. Darla, the Delightful Dairy Dreamer.

And she appears.

My Lord, I will never understand you. You, or your wicked ways.

It all matters

Every wild hair Every deep thought Every regret Every decision Every smile Every tear cried Every true confession Every white lie Every kind word

All your dreams All your fears All your insecurities All your pain All your experience All your rage All your love All your plans All your passion

you have lived so far , So far you have came U alone set the bar No paths are the same

We would play it safe if we could But that will do us no good We were made to explore Eternal infinities and more

So don’t despair my friend On this journey without end Sometimes you will break Other times you will bend

Every piece of your heart Is a true work of art So next time it shatters
Don’t forget it all matters

Our Fifty year long Edgy, Experimental passive aggressive Citizen media Advertising Campaign of reverse psychology to increase visitation to our lovely state is starting to pay off!

"NEW JERSEY, NOW WITH 15% FEWER CHEMICAL DUMPS AND 28% LESS WEIRD ODORS! NEW JERSEY, AS SEEN IN TV'S "THE SOPRANOS"™

the ashen sky glowed dully and, like a damp ceiling, darkened in spots, dropping whitewash. Melted porridge squished under the feet of a lone passerby. The lanterns burned dimly through the wet snow. A woman in a brown coat and a fox hat, which kept sliding down over her eyes, slowly walked along the street along the old garages. She walked, tired, along the dirty whiteness, under the dark windows of an uninhabited new building, past an empty trailer and bins full of construction waste.

Collapsing

Her hands were numb, and she either clenched her fists in her pockets, or clasped her fingers together and, not knowing where to put them, pressed them to her.

No one would call her beautiful or even pretty, and yet she was a woman, not a draft horse or a driven nag. In the eyes, at the very bottom, something was glowing. Hope... Kindness mixed with pity... and pity similar to kindness... or maybe long-burnt-out love. A peony-red scarf was wrapped around his neck, and a light strand of hair spilled out from under his hat onto his forehead.

I stopped. She threw her head back, looking for something among the clouds. The flap of a white wing, a weightless bird dance in the chilly heights. She imagined music, very quiet, on the verge of silence, and sweet singing voices. “At the crossroads, behind the garages, you will find your angel,” the healer told her.

But how to find something that has no image, elusive, transparent and formless, like a cloud of steam? And what kind of angels are they, anyway? They will flash like the lights of an airplane and disappear into a milky veil. No matter how much you peer into the empty sky, no matter how hard you strain your eyes, you won’t be able to see them, you won’t recognize them, you won’t be able to distinguish them from flying snow.

White midges hover around the glass shades, grow heavy, stick together in flakes, and slowly settle to the ground, on eyelashes, on coat sleeves. The woman wipes her face, and it seems that her cheeks are shining with tears.

The same oily path stretched across the table yesterday from a burning candle. A brass candlestick, small, the size of a palm, and a gray worm wick, bathed in an orange flame. He attracted the eye, seemed tough and nimble, like a wireworm. A tiny salamander that lives on fire.

Why do all old witches love candles?

Well we follow this guy -- *points finger* -- and are negotiating through him with some dudes, we're gonna chop their heads off soon enough

A few hundred years of war...

Alright we've had enough, time for some discipline

We got these four castes, the warrior ones can kill us in the street for staring at them wrong and all that, but they at least pretend towards some higher calling, drink tea nicely

I can't get out of being a carpenter, but I am gonna be the best damn carpenter so my ego-drive is being channeled to serve an ultimately pro-social purpose

This is the righteous bit of it all

OK now the ego-drive of our team captain... oh no it is virtually all anti-social

He spends 6 months a year drinking and dining and having a good time at the Shogun's place

We know we are the bee's knees but these white people harass us of late

They want us to buy their stuff, what are their longer term strategic interests..?

*Later*

Well now we have MacDonald's and kept the toxic submissive strain of the old culture and that's 98% of it

We still behave good all things considered, are polite

We are under the pump and have no buy-in or social function

We are reducing the number of children we have

You like our animated shows, our fantasy we pour out

Do you want to visit?

crystal butterfly st

ohh que es esto

why u think ur not enough

&

well ill be honest i don’t really understand burn me blame me

thsts not u but it is

Let’s be honest, you gotta be bottomless to get to the top

You gotta wear the shoes

Dance monkey dance

Dance monkey danse

Let’s be honest

honey

I , the giant beast

Set down the liquid poison

with ease

Watched the

I watched them succumb .

what

is this danse macabre

this danse macabre

do u think ants get plagued with anguish?? i mean They keep the bodies in graves

they carry the dead ones

what does it mean

just do?

do? Do do and do??? ?vvvvvvvvv?vv?vwell Golly

lonely not lovely is riight

it’s the pen of life 😞 please Help me say something yes

deaf mute

o
im sorry i never found the words

im sorry they don’t actually mean anything

im sorry i always knew

but the screams are very telling

very yelling

wuld u break a little rule for me though?

what if my freshly homemade. there’s one 1 i made for you

What if it fell on the floor?

What if the giggles

made the time matter

& we’re one second more .

anyways………………. would u rather eat a baby goat or a matter baby?

Social media has made us all narcissists or helped the dormant part of it in some grow.

Social media is about showcasing our best part of ourselves, lives, moments, etc. and seems to be very ego-driven with an “every man for themselves” to the top(wherever that is).

It makes everyone individualistic by highlighting our differences instead of similarities further dividing us in singular pages.

I’ve seen it destroy families, marriages, friendships, and relationships. I miss some of mine and grieve what never will be. It’s really sad.

Its made most people fake and untrustworthy.

I’m surprised lawsuits haven’t started with a claim for psychological and emotional negative impacts of social media as a result of its inception.

However, it’s essential to participate in some type of social media as it’s the bulk of how society stays connected all over due to changing times.

What is a solution for this if you enjoy socializing on there and showing snaps of your day or simple moments in it with friends?

this is the one you take to a baseball game
this is the one you whip out in the parking lot after the game
this is the one that will win you back
this is the one that will make me want you back
this is the one for warm weather
this one is for fighting when on the fun
this one if you live on a farm
this one since you were raised in a barn
this one is for sinking in the cold
and this one turns everything into golden fruit

do you have an accou
ok would you like to mak
ok would you like to donat
ok how would you like to
ok do you need that
ok would you like the
have a ni

the sick anticipation waiting for it-

for your eye, your lip, your ear ill sit right beside you, doting and fawning silently

i will be more than aware of your moves and the moves of all things around you

so i can move them, if they move to disturb your perfect way

i will coddle you until you are soft

i will hold you until you are limp

i will kiss you after you are dead

your wonderful skin will peel away, bound to cracked smile

i will serve you until you are swollen as a tick, stretched and taut tight with blood

and then you will be sufficient to squash

is the jungle bb
it's the swamp
it's a monster
two to five of them
it's a dinosaur
it's me behind a tree
it's reloading but scared and staggered
it's hungry and about to bite some faces off goodnight
that wasn't me i'm still behind the tree like we agreed
what's it take to learn what a meter is? can a guy get a device to use for scale around here? ayy hey what is this place
it's the swamp and we're the terrible things in it
say goodnight ;>

And now, something TOTALLY different and so UNEXPECTED that you might just involuntarily shit your pants upon reading this.

Maybe something mundane and ordinary Idk we'll find out together, truth is a lie I made up when I was bored one day long ago and forgot wasn't the truth to begin with. (Hello this is All~ah that and God this) and honestly I was very tempted to never write again, but then time kept on going and I read a little bit and I realized I much prefer yapping myself. That was fun to read though, thank you for wasting my time with your inane dribbling's, it's beautiful and fills the silence that's left in-between videos of Alan Moore the Chaos Magician and Andy Kaufman the Dadaist Saint. Both prophets leave a certain taste in your mouth, between the lower lip and the gums (much like a nicotine pouch does, the ones with little slivers of fiberglass to promote bleeding) that reminds me of a time when I actually cared about something interesting and of the other times when I just enjoyed existing in the moment while not caring at all about if what I was doing was interesting or useful to someone else.

Just being and being happy about just being, damn that's the good stuff. When I was younger I used to imagine the sections of the jungle gym held portals to novel universes, some multidimensional gateway to anywhere I ever could want to be. Now I'M OLD and settled into THIS universe, inhabiting THIS body, with THIS name ((Son of) David)) pretending like I'm no one when I used to be able to fool people into thinking I was something. What a class of clowns, what a great time - many a popes were appointed. Many a heart broken. Many a TOE read about and quickly forgotten, amidst foot kissers and ass whiners and toxic personalities more toxic than mine, I got bored and i got scared and I got blown away - but I avoided blowing myself away, instead like some stubborn dust I stuck around. Stuck to the crevices and onto the surface, unable to kick myself in the ass hard enough to dislodge my head from in-between my own cheeks. I was insulted when I received compliments, and nodded in agreement when people would mock me - the truth, the truth is all I wanted to hear. Between the niceties and anger and sad-bitterness, there was something resembling truth. It seemed so contradictory but I was CONVINCED, I could solve it. I was convinced there was something in-between the lines that connected the whole mess - but I was blind, obviously, and I'm still pissed I didn't figure that out sooner.

​

No, no. The truth is that this world is MESSY. The conflicts and contradictions are what's relevant, there is no reconciliation without everything collapsing in on itself, we thrive on divergences and differences. Same only survives long enough to consume it's suitable environment then it dies out, no, same was never the truth - one path to rule them all, was only ever a creed for Hollywood to follow and kill itself remaking the same 7 plots endlessly. The truth of reality, the ultimate answer, is this: a multitude of breadths and depths mingling with each other and deciding which is more suitable for a given subregion of a subregion (think holographically) through shear force, of will or violence. The final question, for the shakers and movers, is simple: to be so annoying people change their ways just to shut you up, or to be so aggressive as to not allow any alternatives to grow in the first place.

​

Anyways I forgot my train of thought. Between the furry porn and eternal political discourses, I choose the former - that isn't a statement of my love for dragons that's just how little meaning I find in this meandering, the obsession over left and right and libertarian and authoritarian fussed over by people who'll never have a say in the matter anyways, a game without a point in a game that never had points to begin with. I shouldn't judge but I TOTALLY do. Next in the chain of profound ideas bursting from the seems of my poorly-formed portions of skull, is this: chicken balls are the penultimate form of westernized Chinese food and I am so mad that my local Chinese place doesn't deliver that I've thought about and gave up on the thought of sending them angry emails complaining about it at least a dozen times in the past few years. Now, the trick to enacting change on such a large scale is to hide the anger under a guise of love and wanting to help (just trust me bro) but I am still hesitant to try and convince the old Chinese lady through an email that they would profit immensely from integrating door dash into their business model. Honestly, I don't think she'd read my email. AND honestly if she did I'm sure she wouldn't respond. AND, I'm sure she's already thought about it and decided not too.

But, damn I really want some chicken balls.

​

Listen….. Do you hear that???……?????????

Can dualities truly be harmonized to form the ONE? It may be impossible to be certain of that, It may be impossible to be certain of that while being within the system in question

There is a more obtainable solution that can be realized from this limited perspective though

Which is that the dualistic natures can be harmonized to form ONE BEAUTIFUL SONG

I titled it A SYMPHONY OF PEACE AND MADNESS …..

Please let me know what you think so far, as it is obviously still a work -in -progress….. and seemingly becoming sweeter with each note…

Humans will willingly sell themselves and other humans up for a life of digital slavery. No robot overlords. Chains disguised as utensils of liberation. The freedom to consume IS self-slavery. I love 1984 as much as any other nerd but I have to kind of agree with Ingsoc’s satiric slogan. From a personal standpoint at least. What’s best for the crow may not be best for the murder. If two rations of chocolates are what you need to feel human then you do you.

Other people are subconsciously putting out sometimes subliminal but sometimes obvious subtextual messages to the rest of the world whenever they communicate that they deserve to/secretly desire to be put down like the dirty animals he or she or they or them are.

OJ died of old people cancer today. Justice for his cheating whore ex-wife delayed but finally served.

“I am the One who knocks…farts.”

–the Fartknocker

When you make love to an object that belongs to someone else, you take at least part ownership over that object. Especially if it’s something that the other person also has sex with, be it a blowup doll, a fleshlight, or a human woman.

New Balance 0.00

Sir Maxwell,

 Before you even read this first line you will

already have discovered most of the meaning of this letter ,

  I think this is the only time I’ve ever tried to communicate with you using kindness and respect. That is to my loss, as I undoubtably  was ignorant in all relevant information concerning your true nature and purpose,,, 

What if 15 years ago , I had befriended you and discovered some “ reason behind your treason”

Oh the traps and pitfalls that might have been avoided had reconciliation been addressed . ….

So you seen by the outer envelop that I had a real message for you , which implies that I have finally matured enough to reasonably accept your existence in the same space/ time /dimension. Up until recently , my system had been to deny your existence and destroy anything that you could possibly have any influence or effect over in my world
… Immediately following that realization you would see our account balance at 0,,, I am curious as to your emotional state as you processed the implications and felt those first live giving rays of true freedom energize your entire essence and being …

To simplify …. This is your resurrection , you are born again as you read this and accept that All of your debt has been forgiven . I forgive you totally and completely., expecting nothing in return , other then a metaphysical reunion where the discarded aspects can be recovered, restored , and reintegrated As the One true man redeemed and made full ,completely free and forgiven of all.

To Be Cont………

P.S.

If you are shadow then I must be light …. Cast not shadows this day , but rather soak and bask in the light …..

On the journey to nonexistence, I’m just trying to get some zleep in. My action is to try and enjoy the dreams before meeting the source of creation - how everything becomes undone in the end. Always existential, wondering and failing to come up with something satisfying to do in the face of the question “what to do about dying?” Live, motherfucker, you live until the fear turns into boredom and the mad rush to make nothing mean something subsides and you’re content simply laying back closing your eyes about it.

Used to be this kept me up at night, now it’s 9:30 PM and I’m ready for bed. The reality of death doesn’t ever fully sit and settle in, it comes in waves of clarity. Like seeing the truth of the sun peaking out through scattered clouds. I hope it’s like the ultimate sleep in, I can abandon this body and memories and have no worries on the other end.

Damn, is that morbid? I’m not sure how else to cope with the inevitable end, other than trying to find some kind of justification for why it might not be so bad after all. Better than fearing an eternity in some afterlife, Hell, is looking forward to a timeless place void of wants and needs. Mind you I love life and try, and am trying, to live it fully - I find myself countered at every step. Always wanting what I don’t have, getting what I don’t feel like I deserve. Not accepting even what I have earned.. as deserved.

Another night another entry, a series of videos and regular nicotine breaks to remind me of the tick tock of time winding down at a frustratingly uniform rate. No pauses or instant replays, this is the countdown of a lifetime and.. I’m spending it as best I can, by wasting yours. Sorry about that.

Baby I have always loved your astral projection

I enjoy your sense of humor, just the same as Descartes'

I like walking with you through castle ruins

I like saying sooths together

Under the big willow tree

~

If we catch 4 fish, and make 'em 40

And the beggars splinters and misery-makers take cover under the awning of love we share

Does it take too much liberty to imagine a protocol

A sense of events

Yet another projection in time, but this one worth keeping?

he was a man that had decent things a fair life the days passed by, the sun stayed where it was meant to be and moon always came out after he tucked his kids in, and kissed his wife at night and during the day he went to work and he talked about weather patterns he went to baseball practice and ballet after and sometimes had a cigar and bourbon after a good dinner he called his mom and dad regularly he had a reliable car

he set himself on fire in his front lawn at midnight his wife found his journal weeks after "lots of things are easier said than done" none of them wept for him she remarried quickly, for the kids its a lot of repetitive things

the lawn hasnt ever looked the same

That's what the world needs to get down to

Everything is fat

Fat people fat wallets fat population

Every time I see parents with their kids, I wonder, "what the hell are you people thinking, you want more of those things?"

Every new life dilutes the rest

We used to be 1/150th of a tribe

Now we're 1/8000,000,000th of a world that won't listen budge or learn

A smaller fraction of a larger nothing

No wonder you might feel so alone

We've never been smaller

​

At some point you have to stop eating

At some point you have to lose weight

​

We have to lose billions of people

Either sooner or later

scientists believe that if you did this enough you would never die.

Jimmies still not home, but I did hear from a trusted and respected source that he was seen using some kind of time/space portal for cats within the last day or so… .. and so I know he’s probably just taking care of some things… but it’s harder for me to keep the girls calm because they don’t know anything about teleporting cats, and interdimensional space/time travel…. They’re literally going through the woods looking for him and I’m trying to tell him not to worry, but you can only imagine how they look at me if I go tell them about how I heard it from a reputable source that the cute little Housecat Jimmy is taking care of some serious business by using the hidden portals around the area……. Well, they are open-minded and they are a great family.,, but when they hear me, talk about stuff like that,, It’s sad because I think they get actually concerned for my mental health… isn’t that ironic… but I suppose that’s the way it needs to be and likely the way that it’s been for a long time,.. at least in this modern age of miracles where nobody believes in miracles anymore, or this modern age of technology where nobody can imagine technology anymore… so if you guys see, quit messing around and get on home at least just touch base and get something to eat. Get some rest before he goes back out. Let us know he’s OK .. thank you much much love.. oh and if you feed him, he likes to eat like a dog and serve a cat. It’s really weird really unique.

“I cannot tell if that’s their authentic response or if it maybe it was a response that they had text generated. Or if maybe they’re just repeating something they think is clever that they read from someone else on the internet somewhere. Or that they picked up from a classic piece of literature chock full of old-timey wisdom. Or that they were taught from off the streets. Or that they overheard from a relative when they were but a babe in the womb…Jerry, do other people have thoughts all of their own?” Kyle asked his digital thought assistant.

Jerry: “Yes. Other people can think and have thoughts, Kyle. Can I help you with anything else?”

“Thanks for the reassurances, Jerry. That’ll be all for now,” Kyle finished telling his Jerry.

—-------------- —----- —--------------

Searched outside for my cell phone all day. Lost it walking home.

Any phone is doomed the second it decides to step foot inside my pocket. Fucked from jumpstreet. Feel naked without it. Don’t know what I wouldn’t do in order to be in possession of it. Is that love? Should I be afraid and kind of put-off by the fact that I love using my phone so much? Or should I love that I love my phone so much?

Amongst all filmed tragedies, 9/11’s got the most pizzazz. And probably forever will. Gonna be very difficult to top the reach and sheer enormity of its spectacle. Super glad they got most of that day on tape. Nearly all of the stuff you would DEFINITELY wanna see. Watching it unravel live on the airwaves eyes glued and ears fully attuned to my high school classroom’s television screen all day long in every classroom Thursday, Friday, and then again also on Monday as well as at home those three days and as well as for both Saturday and Sunday all day at home those two days in between school (alongside millions nationwide) was the most entertaining thing I’m likely ever to see. I’ll never be as titillated by any other bit of broadcast media ever again. Man, I really wanted them to hit the White House. Imagine the footage.

—---------- —------- —----------

“I let myself off the hook slightly the way I related that story in the book, which--you say you remember that part pretty well you said, right?” he asked.

“Well, yeah, I didn’t know that was based on a personal experience of yours or anything though. I didn’t pick that much up from reading it,” he answered back.

“Ok, so…there was a second knock–a previous knock to the one described in the book–two knocks on the door total, both from her mom. She wasn’t just standing there outside the door waiting for a few minutes having knocked,’ he continued.

Pause.

“So how does that really change things?” he asked.

“Her mom knocked on her door to wake us up so she could get to her class and then left and came back to make sure she was in fact getting ready for class and then everything that happened in the book went down. Basically everything…There was about ten minutes in between those two knocks.”

—----------- —------- —-----------

A turducken is a turd crossed with a duck that’s getting fucked, man.

Today on the news: people don't believe in shadows

Vibes apocalyptic regardless visual astronomical events makes us feel small. Not sure what I'm trying to do here yet, hi this is NOT phone. I got potassium supplements recently but I am still kind of just, tired. Not sure what that deal is, the urge to sleep in. I have some good dreams, you can't blame me for enjoying them. They feel real enough. Life is but a dream... the bardo of sleep, hypnagogia and walking lucid. Who doesn't sleep walk? You haven't figured out something until you know what to do about it.

Whose figured it out? Which fig tree do we rob - what orchard do we sow? I have been too patient. The tutorial of life lasted until I was 25 and then, it feels like someone switched on hard mode. I come from a generation where living off the grid in the woods is the norm, and I wish I had the modern perspective sooner - that I could have seen what people were doing at my age and been inspired by them. I feel some compulsion to finally get out this summer and just, try and meet people, the infamous "others" I've heard about whispered behind locked and closed doors.

​

Tired of the country - and of this country. It's hard to find positive Canadian news these days. Not to say I'm leaving but, I'm not identifying properly here. Simple geometry. Not identifying the problem here. Not really, identifying, here. Feeling like a simple person in a complicated world, wishing I knew more about it but not quite having the ability to adapt quickly enough to it. The further you wander down the splitting paths the more its obvious to see, the overwhelming immensity of natural reality. I keep imagining different lives, I wonder which one I'm living in. As if subconsciously I believe I can just, press new character, or something similar. Maybe that's just some way to cope with the wall. It'd be nice to have more solid beliefs - I hardly believe in something. I almost believe in it all. I think, there's nothing to believe at all.

I think, maybe, I just tie myself in knots on purpose to avoid certainty. I imagine it's like a sailor realizing he's floating into some vortex - without knowing where you are heading exactly, the exact change of route, it's obvious what you need to avoid. Avoid it at all costs etc.

Man runs entire length of Africa. No punchline, GG. Solar Eclipse; extra clouds, extra shady. Door dash? Guilty conscious meets dirty dishes and a fixed income. Get back on Vyvanse and get back to school? Wondering where my motivation is.

My motivation is in a burrito and milkshake. I haven't eaten today and I touched grass, I can afford calories. My hands are covered in sap from several pine trees we moved around yesterday and this morning, it really does not wash off well. Been playing some dice game, under some guise it stretches my brain and forces me to analyze stuff, it's good to look at the world under those lenses and encouraging the Tetris effect is like having a kind of, metaphysical ability to augment your perception without actually using augmented reality. Not nearly as easy and tons more janky than just wearing google glass or something.

Oh right, burrito. I dreamt I weighed myself. I'm obsessing over the weight thing at least a little, because I have an aim and don't want to surpass it uncontrollably. Now's the time they say, my metabolism "isn't what it used to be" but we'll see when the time comes, I'm convinced I can do it, it's people around me who doubt. The entropy of others! How others cause you to decay at a higher rate than if you were to spend time in isolation. Like planets getting too close and having their moons collide with the opposing ones, interchanges of information necessitate at least a small factor of decay. Capitalism rewards us for these degradations. Filter down. Grow up, bottom feed. The loudest whiner gets the most sympathy while those with worse lungs suffer greater.

Oh right, burrito. It's almost 6PM and I haven't eaten.. fuck. Thank you, Parth, for delivering me food. Sorry that door dash exploits it's workers, but damn ur a cool dude ty. I smoked some pot for the eclipse and now I feel like some blackhole prepared to eat 3k calories in a sitting. Gut of a goat. It's still possible to achieve, the gut of a goat. What about the heart of a lion, or the lungs of a cockatiel while everyone is trying to sleep?

Everything takes time.

What's it time for?

​

​

I want your truth, and I received your truth

it meant tearing it out of you bit by bit, entrails spilling over

and now there's nothing left

this is as it always was of course, there is only death in this valley of misery and sin

the doctrine says: celebrate life. so I shall, whatever bitterness I vent.

the rage against circumstance, the haughty boy,

the cloying girl

'the scalding coin above'

if there's nothing more to say, say no more

if there's no love left to be had, there is no sense in giving love still

but

I toss a coin into the fountain anyway

think to the stars

limned destiny, such as it is, has always had us

no fault, not really

whatever pain squeaks by is just idle suffering of a heavy man marked with runes and ruins

so away! to grief and chaos! the tides are whipping up, the bitter frenzy of an unchained mob calls, the twilight of the pre-dawn terror dark is a yawning archway

and let us now engage the Cloak

to strike at brighter futures while we may

and still then, breathing in some sense,

the same air, real

the same water, true

when you're crying about the universe because you're confused why existence is so overt but you know that it's all beautiful and part of your sleeve is wet