Category: selected writtings

Part_3

beggars indeed
As nessicary difficulty
Preventing lungs are easily tickled
vapors them from remaining
Your hands tragical – comical – historical
pastoral players which I tell
you five players pleased

Boundary go to believe
non of us that play indifferently
commingled heart
too now is he total gules
enter commissions that will may lord e^ thanks
equal As I do the – something to much
of this – him and in again

by’r takes carried away
sheen hearts did our hands
o proof grow in distrust
so discomfort are in want doth
try I contrary none of our own
thoughts
a while here me leave – deeply sleep

fortunes left hollow
were I did give food lasting protest
to much me thinks let the devil wear
black Nay twice then makes again
with by mean find yet – cease

have times been did and commutual
o are former I neither his cheer
here hence how in’t runs trap
abatements down her weedy element
creature in capable too much of water

stronger either or make they
stand judgement begin known
save yourself well so simple
save motion
Quibbling distinctions
heres more cost no more know him
salutes his recognizes
purchases undo us
quiddits – quillets

good measure
Aye, that it does
But what you
custom holds equivocation
gibes dirge weep cozenage
northerly diigence
society I take him to be him
dearth umbrage meed

quiet If you credit ta’en
be me himself warry eye tell
cardinal varied felicitous fortuitous
will and gone T,s again did sometimes
march such was the very armor he
had on combated Norway ambitious

The he when toils true avoch
for law lands here to you – so my
No, nor lost, lost and think my best
but few beware grapple them have
east Be thou to tell

defective this sadness
be may it not prevent your
discovery anticipation plays whose
lungs they do it are they Nor do
we find

wot – something after who heart
ages see yourself for him*

I speak because I feel the grip of
your curse Nor Quite right Compel
unwilling gods Tiresias been slow to do twice
now earth surely how on other you
know and won’t declare it will like it

You with you these or me inventions or your is
yourself Youllution equal in my right
to speak

done slight blow as its you here
and you its your attempt skilled discovered
nothing when brought first myself mindlessly
Don’t supported want against me swift
thinkers

what whom You you thought rich of the
Storm hidden by wild caves started heard
assination

hear it stain for realm ever terror
deathless mongers
He is within poor man*

Hymn

The mood sit Oedipus to speak
guilt be was caught he savior
what back Zeus death blind shoots
what back

Does after the home feel who right
point who sees something
At master eyes attendants
travelers

yourself – seeing prophetic – mantic
had led mindlessly in defence
past all it has but ask
striking enough
sees palace saw

once by the staff in this
my hand whip
but even
why should I
visit

see that seem fearful as Laius
murders and on high,
born to traverse the brightest
keep do
by revenge
to he

show he frightened full
Plan fearfull I indeed another
trip hire for trouble
fearfull

depends you’ll without Lord are never anxious
not to fall want me
exiled wherever worlds alone
yet so that how much time
carriage why back in

Part_2

My twin self is my sex partner. I found it enjoyable but brief but was nice. The tracing of Joel has been traced to the Incas and yes there is almost a sesames connection. Reach out and grab it, it will be yours he has what he whishes. I would wonder about the drinks that the flooded brain fear secretion to see the dots of seeing for little my body has fed the ameba that likes the dread of panic while I’m more accustomed to despair.

My coder was a mantis. The go-getter team of aliens my friend. There are two planets I shall say that intrigue me though only one is spoken as Dathomir and is inhabited by witches though the fiction of it I’m not concerned with. The witchhead nebula writers may convey the plans NE Dathomir. The mantis may write to the unknown forbidden planet SW under Vrell control if not Krell.

Particle dust is a nano form of information. I have dice I have made but do not know that there weighted or nothing. Oh me so I made a perfect toss but missed the dead blacks did not help. I think my story has been prolonged in some unnecessary way. Are we trapped on this planet, world? If there is a map to heaven by ways of stars in space bridge the gap close the gap but there is a keep out sign probably. So tired of the ufo figure skating crap. Women are the biggest export of the planet but did that get better since last I heard of black guy who gets or use to be a led jaw flunky.

The grey’s hate my recordings. My soul say’s ++++ belongs to the lords or is what some synthetic intelligence has psychically communicated to me to the tune of no hope so cold in probability.

I uploaded my consciousness last night to what I’m imagining an external data base. It could use context relatable examples of thought and expression to my preferences. I could not really use the data base files to really find out any answers about anything. It was more like a virtual playground with a familiar cartoon show called adventure time as a template. It was different from dreaming it was just thought while I was resting. All this isn’t much different than imagination but it seemed more fluid and assisted.

I only wonder if this self-introspection as an adult will help any other as is my intent. The pharmaceutical lords which I have met one of their spokesmen’s before. She claimed that she did care about people. It is my belief that there is such a thing as bad medicine its most certainly isn’t an exact science. Why some people can’t be adjusted to levels of stress and anxiety as well as others I don’t know. All I need impart of my wisdom is feeling good is better than feeling bad. Some people fear other people and it comes down to control issues and putting people in a controllable state. How to actually heal people is the question that need be asked. The problem stems from how our society works on debt and the pressure to compete for one’s own preservation. It is a free for all society where everyone starts in different areas on the grid. So in the start it’s not fair do to what family you were born into. Most people have to fight for a life to have by no fault of their own difficult struggles and on top of that can have some shit luck with interactions as conforming to ideology of heard mentality.

A cosmic baby that never wants to travel back to Earth, where is he? Did he live within me at one time? My high thought is once you get out you never come back. That is what people don’t understand. How far out there did I send him? The hollow reservoir is my home now.
My twin self must be gone. For there is little for me to like as it seems. This obsession for things is what? Finding a way to be reasonably happy and content with my life and myself. The need to compartmentalize the operations of myself into spheres of needs makes it hard to transition from one to the other. Just be as annoying as hell to get to be alone with the tv. Demand that the other follow you commands. I knew I’ve seen demonic robot women before and it seems to me that this might be some of the software written to them the employment of evil and cruelty.
Great races, personality division, task management, & micro-thought.

I live and what be said about dirt, puke, farts, and masturbation. I have my ability and talent to make art and music so at least there’s that.
A simple happening of what is just small moments to find it not as bad as most of the times the will to find the sacral spirit.
21,000 years ago there was Atlantis and many colonies like it. Some people could help others find ways to feel good. It becomes hard to find those who can still help in this day and age. If a connection can be made with the spirit one might be lucky enough to know some form of I suppose freedom to mingle with others. This being a form of lucid dreaming, and when best a out of body experience for it to feel the most real. It is enjoyable but then becomes addictive to want that level of interaction it might be note worthy to say pencil and paper. So to say that reality becomes confusing if dreaming is more fulfilling then actual living. There seems to simply be more freedom in the dreams and with that a longing for a better reality.

God’s chariot was not of horse but of tiger companion and that of a companion that turned on him like to say you walk alone not on my back when they separated his spirit was torn that was his friend to a tiger a forest said in the woods your alone an none of animals eclipse you to an dark abyss though the abyss calls of more, more that wait to see the light oh dark with by god be slain the friends on the thin raft guess how we as child men act to the others our raft as dark as your pollution the fits with jump or belly up to now what beholds to befold us

A god tripped on a stone from another god So Slight to say your sightedness helps me to see without looking so… You know what I mean

God dam this, this isn’t about us, it’s about the people of us who lost they are.

care me say I

liste4n baphomet my friend he says, ‘god me you are against a man who would fuck his own mother god I say this is what your against my son yes ghost of me from el,. he offers me himself as a slave but he could only find me water as consolation.’

elohim said let me be green and the dead born arte yours alone heaven forges signatures

This selection of writing is of the express purpose to let the people who have fulfilled what any of the great authentic gods of mystery have requested of them. I will reference works with my own experience reading and practicing along with current ideas that will stimulate the future minds direction for positive growth for I say the time of present is in great disarray and may take more then my life can give. The foundation will be concerned with 3 categories positive, genuine, and negative-ness.

The alien messiah as a plan B. survey from people, “if it can get it done” says white women, “undecided” says white man, and “ probably not” says black man. You can thank the style of music know as “dub step” as a direct alien invention into the music culture. I dreamed last night of a train stop were people were getting off the train on the other side of a chain link fence among the crowd of people three short grey aliens dark almond eyes big cranium heads were walking along the humans and I don’t know if the trust was there yet I of course had someone with me a possible guide so to speak and I was still to observe but very much wanted to engage them and they knew it.

The culture composed of people places and things like sex to be an extension of love while I’d guess it has nothing to do with it anymore. Some people get sex playing the game or the dead to what they call the game while others simply are the game all like something to be won. Every action comes from some sort of combination of three places the first positive-ness a higher category of emotional interaction with oneself and others much like that of love kindness. Secondly, genuine-ness a simple authentic response to cause a impulse or motivation to do something and could very well turn towards evil in today’s society if it feels good do it sort of mentality and perhaps one can avoid the consequences. Thirdly, negative-ness possibly the best thing used as a tool that describes society as to make sense of it and is also the easiest trap to fall into and I’m sure it leads to death if it swallows the other two category relative-ness in ones living.

Where is my instinct? Mental illness is thinking creatively in some ways but today’s psychiatrists are trained to believe it is just biology. My action like myself is flawed with mistakes I’ve inherited. Moreover the hollow reservoir is my current lot as I will stay there as best I can as my higher self the adult child, the base self the child adult, and self the twin child of which my inner has left me to the cosmos in search for help from earth’s society. Beyond the fridge & toilet to furthermore taking showers and eating the reservoir of the hollow that only cosmic intervention can correct where it was society that was the cause of the problem. Maltreatment has sent part of my self away and I dwell with the other self from the hollow reservoir. The result of this is stunning the very soul is made dizzy as my personality becomes fragmented.

3 & 1. three dollars and one cent.. oh god why couldn’t I not dig deeper in my pocket it was right there the exact change.. You know of course this mind is preoccupied mainly with the concern of avoiding crashing into people paths as it seems clear to me that if I were like them we would all be bumping in to each other like stumbling zombies. It may be everyone against me or everyone for me [latin phrase]. Chance becomes the biggest agent to my life and what is to say about a living like that. It will leave you with nothing marriage wasn’t supposed to be decided in a casino as a sick way of describing gods will. Its not perfect here might be insight the artist always running from the wedding designs of some sort of contrived thought of perhaps an insomniac. A magic theory is someone has to miss so someone can make the trick a pile of shit but like a batting average that the numbers may be perfect in describing math.

Back to the topic of the “guy who doesn’t get it” will be written in a locked up book as the solution to fix what for me has been a horrendous life of boredom, stagnation, and atrophy. Ironically society has no way of fixing the people who don’t get it, but to my dismay cause problems it can’t fix because the gaps of intellect of people spread out through history not being heard left only as hollow gestures. Now comes the idea of outside help and would one accept it? I’m personally glad not to have an inner telephone line to Satan but could see where that could be helpful. At what lengths would the one who does not get it go to act in a fury of creative cries such of that he might go beyond the doctrines of waiting for Jesus to fix everything who must of known the problems that would remain on Earth in his stay.

I’m bored help me it wasn’t always worth the time a great shame like were waiting for you some did and it can be worked up to the belief solidifies more in some then others but I would image great preparation. The intervention of a contact of mine reports experiments with minimal casualties and seamless passing wow. Some floating heads shit. Reptile penis call it lizard like and how are we supposed to do it Egyptian magic, miracles, and aliens.

A person who just does things from a place of automatic back and forth. For example smoking cigarettes how is it if worth it if your not doing heavier drugs then just to waste time. I have five days left before my flight back to Minnesota from Portland with an almost empty pack (and have had some enjoyment smoking some of it) I had bought after a night I don’t remember even buying in the first place or making it back to my apartment only to wake up with puke on the wood floor as I had a small black out. I want to be healthy but that seems like a guy who has sex with his girlfriend every night trying to go for the high score or something. Jesus likes the video game Mario and the anti Christ likes the game yo noid. That’s what I get for looking for friends advice become a wino or enjoy fake progress like saving yoshi and eating pizza. A gentlemen tried with what I would say some success putting a spell of me to not enjoy smoking. I wonder what’s next a long career of playing at if I had the money thinking type of thing could be more comfortable or as sheens says (with a good heart and honoree mischievous devil) “it moves things” along to what a number game $15,000 of debt attached to my name that some funeral end game would be cleared stab at a life objective and yes perhaps get laid and have friends.

I have trouble with my hands.. but more importantly I need a U ship as a long term goal. The gov. should know that I have had communication with to date with 3 generals. I shall give you the name Rend the name was hard for me to remember so I wrote it down. The other 2 I shall keep to myself for the time being. Yes I am bored so this is less structured but want to feel that I in some way am important.

I don’t like black men they seem to be some thing not like the other races like its hard to say and white women hear the frog and become mesmerized by rap especially the young and dumb and I don’t know how they live with themselves because I would say there letting the white race down but that’s just me. On that note look for my new song I will begin to compose soon called ‘blue eyes white dragon 3.’

Those w they would pay like Jesus did that like a mother, cook, and whore was all that a holy person needed in life baby fantasy aside. The world is flooded with insects like black people am I close.

The chance turn of events was not staggering it was more.. To be located so overwhelming with the utmost detachment in other words more over and again as once before so again but to last what chance. How consciousness is a radiating peanut butter sandwich that must be it. Maybe I might be able to comprehend the mind of white women, but first must say that I am a white man of the age of 28 and as so will explain something easy since about middle school I started noticing women’s bodies to be attractive notably boobs and butts. This shouldn’t be all that shocking I hope to my readers. My ability to act or take the actions in sharing I would say God’s intensions to make a genuine connection with such of my liking has not been easy. I find that when I go looking for pictures or video of such things to my liking I try as I will to be attracted to the soft cloud like variety but can’t seem to use the internet safely. I see that a large part of content seems (and let me try to be a detective here) a way of saying fuck God like a blazing whore story of the worst part of the bible where a women (and think of themes here are important) seem to suggest as a societal means of entering there presumed right a contest of their bodies same as a story in Rome how perversely they can simply like forget about (the blush hint) and initiated themselves to damnation of flesh. A women thinks I have to say in a way that they hate themselves and god to the extreme. It seems like evil rears its ugly head again some satire that never was in good taste because I can only guess they are lost nihilist to say more correctly as far as I can seek out the worst of human behavior this might be it. I do this simply because it need be written I hate blacks having sex with whites. I’ve become implanted and encoded with these morals that I accepted that like do I think I’m going to have courage to deny what I truly feel. No. It is but for me to say these things and offend many. Society says I can fuck off and die but they wont get kids from me saying I have to take the chance as in my time that to be cool with America you have to be a sex slave to the blacks I simply will hate on strong. When did we lose to be cursed to live where blacks are white women’s fantasy? Others must have been implanted and encoded from a different source in the face of the bullshit that we’re all the same I presume not. Take a number I guess.

Less than a guy who can live like this I am child with the influence of quit deities. I can only imagine they have limitless patience a kind of doing time dance or vacation thought that might be the best of human life. Why so frightened who writes my messages? Did I say to much? I will be taking a U ship to the white house’s front lawn in the stay of Jesus so don’t be surprised. I’m so close really you must be a loveless person to think so. Us without top military clearances like to think we can be involved how stupid right? I have been tagged by whisperers to say who got here first. What am I to think if I been contacted by deities like having endless patience. Learn to be a saint or adopt a outlook of stupidity that is to say get into the rat race all money that can save the stupid who have an aversion to being deep to a core of where they can never face there own mind of Mona lisa.

A person who never can admit something that wasn’t there idea first to the core of all action a control freak in the utmost and likes to fuck things up. Always in need of being “sedated” or giving orders to say in other words the one who came up with the plan of action “to have a say” fuck you war lord cause of chaos and a genuine love for disruption of peace so fucking to the core maybe unbeknownst to herself a true freak of opposite and never lose to save evil ends as a victim and will always lie to oneself and more to others my mom save grace.

It doesn’t take a genius to know you been got too. who got me then? The mischievous moon perhaps. A tangled web of creatures in her influence and my friends with their holograph technology like their couch time or sitting at the table. Survivors do what you want but we must consult the oracle… how close can you get. The ones that died young were on the hunt for it. Whatever it was. The queen who rules without a king is really unhappy for she is not made for making deals she is the heavenly treasure being sold as a consolatory gesture of loss of grace and the purer higher heaven must not be known about. What do you want to live in the jungle or something do you think you could handle it and embrace the chaos. Like I guess Im going outside poor night if you did think about the psychologically fool you are yourself and everything there is to make the job doable. I suppose never ending rehearsal to that to me a never ending grocery list.

How much of your time is just getting through? Like to say zombie ideal living until you get that brain that is. Whomever and mostly people who do have the commonality of what is silly-absolute happiness at 23 years of age or nothing like it was mapped to be a huge control freak by 30 I will have my second car for weekends and a refinanced mortgage on my new house. Do you think you can understand any of it being genuine love or are you a hate freak? The latter. That’s what being an adult is… so close. (They shut down my hate rant crap) mind block. Maybe have a smoke and think of something that is not like beamed into my head but a change of neural activity to make your veins pulsate underneath your wrists.

What do you remember? I want to talk to you. I have that one story I sell. I must admit I like to try to get to that dangerous area but its not like it will happen. Life conditions there really isn’t any that I know of. Why recycle what you know? I was asked where was my instinct was and I replied I’m afraid of the unknown. The skill you have and I will say is your communication your unique communication. My thin raft. Do you at least know where it came from? The multiplicity or reason absolute reason. I did have a large group of what I suspect human people in the arts in some new age contact or some really weird encounters not often I was properly talked to but had to send a twinkling light to lipeka. There was an opening and maybe that says something about you rightfully so are afraid and its not enjoyment in being ‘innocent’ but the fear of well something that was funny afterwards like rhino dude probably but interesting. I was once trapped in a tent but that’s another story… a hazy tent or different locations I like to think I could map out dream locations in the real world as they overlap cool.

A horrendous truth. That can only be described as industrial level joy in disgust. There is a separation for actual conduct with people and the camera. Turn it around when your ready… it seems cursed from both sides. Real life and simulation and enough of my dissimulation by the way. I think that it is in hand but relates to the other. what we see mostly is through the camera now more then ever and that is what the blacks have learned to invest much in. Ether white women love blacks or porn industries think people want to see blacks have sex with white women. Am I crazy? This of course means I have used the internet to try to see adult material that is mixed up with porn but what I would say should be separate and different. Like do people like to watch black guys having sex with white women for there own enjoyment? I think porn means you don’t give a fuck about anything and think that your body must make you a god. Like getting a picture on top of mount Rushmore would make you king of the united states like the idea of sex power and subjugation. Worrying about living one’s life yes but fucking ones neighbor because of you have freedom I get it just don’t cram it down my throat. A simple concept. I am white and would like to be with a white female because that is my natural inclination. Why is it the same inclination that blacks want to get with white women instead of black women. Am I beating you over the head with what is going on? The more I think of it its like white women are really fucked up like hating there fathers or something.
wo dance me yes for the arch me drink penis sheds light to fire the quilt chourur swooping my happy time no not alwas false that was a snare. my best friend stop typing let them contribute

Jibberish 2

Before reading and TV dreams was all there was. The dreams are violent and tempted to rage. You got to have that dog deep inside you to just do what women think of us that is natural, it is not. So inside didn’t care that to what has been lain, the trip wire. The vampire world waiting for me to be something godly for you all to crucify and rob blind. It’s a long game for life to have it’s way, see what happens! I contribute, you got to settle for more. Everyone in their own world plus the sharks. Some always knew they could trust their grota. The thing is the world’s been cut up by territorial humans. Because of my unhappiness I wonder. It takes thousands to prop one up I guess and beat the dead horse. I am human that gets worse with time how unfortunate.

We’re back in space now. Snake worried that he went a stray, but how far. He is now away from Geni, his lover. That’s how the domino’s fall. “Thanks to Dub were all in the fucking shit,“ Snake says. Mudd get’s use to the new rust bucket clunker of a ship that did not have a jacuzzi. The gardening was still good. Mudd had seeds of his favorite plants he acquired from places. The fact that they were probably wanted by the the Barren Federation wore on their conscience. “We mine like we use to do,” said Snake. “To make this right Dub had a boss Mudd, we need to speak his language.”

“We enter the paralyzing dimension, the mind through the third eye, indigo,” Snake says. This space is metaphysical, that Snake and Mudd find themselves in Mudd’s dark crystal as they had been sleeping. One might ask what is there and what’s it like. All the people Snake and Mudd have banished now in a perverse turn of events now can’t wait to meet their caster’s. “Mudd what the fuck your God dam indigo crystal took us into this fucking mess. We are in the business of selling the rarest of the mineral kingdoms material not fucking getting trapped in them!” “Somehow the people we screwed over have called on their crystals to get back at us,” says Mudd. “Well hello, don’t bother to struggle, I can cripple your body here and leave you in eternal agony,” says what must be the federation space station’s disembodied souls that were killed in the prison escape of Lizard, his disregard for human life for those who crossed his path. “You’ll never wake up if you don’t do exactly what I say,” says the amorphous collective disembodied souls entity.

We’re in the fucking dog house. We’ve been here for about three days. Snake starts to sweat and Mudd is steadfast. “Who the fuck are you,” says Snake. “You thought you were working for Dub, yes. When in fact it was just a puppet of real Dub that impetulant ass,” says the amorphous entity. Find him and send him to me.” “OK are we done here,” said Snake. I’m keeping Mudd here until you send Dub to this dimension by ending his life got it? “Sure you’re on.”

“Computer, put mayor Frog on the Com,” Snake says. “Hello Snake.” “This isn’t a social call Frog, I need a favor.” Elsewhere as Mudd slipped into the gap between worlds of mind and matter the amorphous entity is willing to treat with Mudd. “What should I call you, you thing?“ says Mudd. “You can call me Count Abyss.” It then formed into a body and wore a cape and garment. “I know it was you who is the real alchemist not Snake that bone head. Perhaps you can apprietiate the world of minerals and their soul trapping capabilities. Your talent for transferring electronic’s and mood infusion with crystals and plants is only a fraction of your potential if you were to be guided.” “And I suppose that would be you then?“ “Perhaps.”

Geni and Frog grabbed a taxi to the Earth’s local space sector not far from Pluto and the fringe destroyer female shiva’s moon. “I will be at the randevu point soon to meet you shortly Geni, I’m glad you are not arrested because of me,” says Snake. “Yeah Barren Space doesn’t have any jurisdiction here, that’s why I had to lay low, I had a feeling you were going to get us in trouble.” The Earth’s space station’s were shitty, but had enough business to run taxis’. They meet in an air lock and embrace each other. Frog then approaches. “Snake old buddy how you’ve been so good to see you.” “Yeah glad to see you too, we got some work to do.”

“You look good Geni, we got to watch our asses, let me deal with Frog,” says Snake. “Where’s the jacuzzi Snake?” “Sorry this is the best I could do.” “Mudd’s catatonic so that’s why we’re here, we got work to do.” They make there way to deeper space, more dangerous space. “We need to enter pirate space and find Dub, the dark star lord.” Frog say’s “Don’t take your chances with the solar plexus, the dark sun, the intent of illusion. This guy your looking for is a lion waiting to devour us sun people.” “Noted Mayor, when I say we go, we fucking go, GOT it!” “Yeah I got it.”

FORTUNA Major is displayed on the terminal screen. “Yeah this looks good,” Snake says. This sector is available for the movers and shakers as a hub of neutral space commerce made up of several ports and markets in a mess of metal frames and connected air locks. “We can pick up some things from the Grey’s at this hub. I think this Star Lord is one of them, who’s language is inflicting pain to compensate for his non ability to feel himself. Frog your with me, let’s head to the bar while Geni picks up some things.”

At the bar Snake gets a piccher of draft. A grey starts telepathically communicating with Snake. “You know the food here is quite good.” Snake gestures to his forehead. “Say bar keep how about some food, prepare me some fish, raw, and a citrus sauce. ” Snake said. “People come from all over to eat here, great choice broha.” A fat Asian business man bellies up to the bar putting Frog to shame. “Make that double, and some saki!” So everyone was having a good time at this point. Frog says,”send our friend over there a drink.” He points to the grey across the bar. “Your friend, a sun man doesn’t know us Grey’s are into vision drugs, not your baby’s milk.” Snake points to his empty mug. “So, you want the double vision?“ Snake nods.

“OK, take me to your drug lord,” Snake thinks. He taps Frog on the shoulder and puts some money on the counter. “I’ll meet you at the ship later.” The Grey shortly after follows Snake out of the room. Snake walks down a couple corridors taking a few turns into connecting terminal then as the Grey took the next corner Snake appeared holding out his gun. “Don’t fucking think about pulling a weapon unless you want your big brains blow all over the fucking wall!“ Snake pats the Grey’s vest and pulls a gun weapon from an inside holster. “I know my ship was bugged, that you wanted to keep an eye on me. Those men at station 47 were apparently capable of becoming some bad spectors that have caused me and my friend some problems. I know your transmitting so I got a message for you Dub, I’m coming for you.” Snake then blasts the Grey.

“I think we were just board,“ said Frog to Geni at the ship. They put away provisions and wait to hear from Snake. Shortly after Snake opens his Com to Geni,”Yeah I’m moving from unit ten to eleven, start the ship and meet me at Port 3118 now! I got some tails, let’s just say I fucked the pouch on this one.” Snake brought the local security to alarm as he left a dead Grey in a vestibule. He now makes his way to Port 3118 as he carries a black box brain chip from Mr Grey’s Brian. The rust bucket ports at 3118 and they bolt ass.

“CORONA BOREALIOS and CANIS MAJOR were the last constellation sectors our friend was before he tailed us,”Snake says. “So now what,” says Geni. “We go hunting.” Snake moves to the cargo section and asks Frog for some help. “They had us bugged Frog.” “Those bastards!, that sucks,” Frog resonds. Snake clips in to some mining gear cable on his belt then pushes to cargo hatch and a red light and alarm sounds. “Snake what are you doing?” “I knew it was you Frog.” “I can explain, believe me!” Snake shoves Frog backward then the suction of air leaving the hatch sends the fat man against the back wall, as Snake begins to be suspended in the air on his cable. He hits a button on his belt and gets hoisted to the terminal panel and cable reel. Snake watches Frog, jettisoned from the ship floating away, the Mayor of the Emerald City, now Frozen in space. Snake hits the button to close the cargo hatch.

“Where is Frog?“ Geni asks. “He had to go chill out,” Snake answers. “Let’s get this over with Mudd’s starting to smell.” “Let’s go to CANIS MAJOR,” Geni says. Snake enters the coordinates. “We have a short while to prepare, and what I plan and what potentially happens aren’t always exactly similar.” Snake arms himself with some gear: mining explosives, 30-30 Winchester lever-action rifle, and a 22 pistol a very good gun for pounding nails all day. Saturn comes around, Snake softly puts his hand on Geni’s shoulder. “I’m choosing to go it alone Geni. I need you to stay with the ship.” Snake opens the Com to the pirate ship that was surly waiting for them to arrive. “Hello Snake, perhaps we could talk in person,” say’s the Masked Dub. “Gladly, I will be docking shortly.” Snake moves to the air lock with a business trench coat and strapped. The air lock opens and the port way is empty. Snake decides to draw his rifle and stands and looks through his iron sites at each corner of the vestibule. He in some swat move creeps in. As he get’s closer he smells the stench of Dub’s leashed dog, the Lizard to the left. He takes the corner and pumps two rounds from his hip. The shots are spread in the room and he looks to the right side corner and Lizard sprang up on him so as to disarm Snake. He quickly drops his rifle and shows his hands and the brute says, “You packed your bags asshole,” in a snarl. Snake kicks the rifle to him then reaches into his coat and unloads the clip into pale scaley reptilian. The hits were all over the torso and only made the reptilian mad. Snake runs into the room away from Lizard and jumps over a counter. “I got a shit ton of explosives that can blow apart an asteroid of any composition. What do you think it will do to you asshole!“ Snake had nowhere as much powerful explosives as he bluffs. “You die too,” Lizard responds. Snake reloads and primes an hand sized explosive set to blow on a timer to make the situation even worse sets it on top of the counter. Lizard rushes Snake and he got only a couple of shots before he would be ripped apart. He has his gun right in front of his face and with adrenaline he pops off four rounds into the cranium mushrooming and fragmenting into the brains as lizard jumps counter landing on Snake as the sound of four pangs muffled in to a body followed by silence. Snake heaves and military presses the body off him then grabs his rifle. “Five minutes is all I need,” Snake says to himself and starts into a jog. Kicks into a button on a door panel the cockpit doors open guns drawn. “It’s not personal Dub it’s you or Mudd.” “I know the Count used some of your crystals against you.” The Schell of the android opens up in the head and the tiny alien in a chair says. “Well Mudd is very gifted.” “How do you want me to do it?” “Down with the ship, I guess.” The ship is gonna be blow I’ve left explosives throughout the the ship. I guess you should be sprinting again. Yeah, captain my captain. Snake bolts out. With the timer running dangerously low. They detach from the pirate ship. Then the ship blows and its debris becomes a ring of Saturn.

TV does not think so. She beleaguer’s the beach surroundings, taunting, and flaunting her… well female parts scantily clad bra, shirt, and shorts. The summer was long and Jr was not the dad to some rag tag crew of hippie seamen and they no longer called him captain. Wolf as this is about him seems to be happy where ever he is like he has the ‘get out of jail’ free card. The unceremoniously sumarian not so good it seems to bind these fools once again to the ocean.

Sister has found witch craft fascination and Jr Fears she no longer has respect for him, in fact he is certain. She seems to gravitate to places such as Paris, in those places et cetera. “Pre-minnoctus abhorrium pendulum chimera chiro, black & blue and white all over,” she says. Toward the end you’ll agree. Sister waits for a distant need be happening to occur like a child.

For some reason the characters became anti establishment and lived wasted scared of their past regret and future worry. Wolf had felt good about being a beach bum collecting change for dorritos and liquor. He was in the Caribbean living his life in the sun. Jr was trying to find Jesus for vengeance. His saintly anger was amazing. How to unite these friends from the seventies with their birthday’s all being the same, the fourth of July.

The life was a living hell for the limbic person who wished to dream. When it comes to ravaging the soul look no further. “They turned on me,” Jr laments. “Got to get them together and buy an island.” First he has to save Sister from her enthrallment to fashion and bring her into education, the real world. “Those God dam pairs, the mover and shakers. Forgive me.” Jr was on pirate radio broadcasting to your address and he’s got your fucking number!

He awakes in his bed, zap! The fraction of day begins. “Listen! Bret we tempted the sea and lost, now through me unto me were hidden in caves waiting for the herd assination.” “What are you talking about,” says Bret on the Com radio. “Don’t make me say it again you devil!, we lost!” It was in-fighting. Jr was lying in a bed of sin and “snakes” his cosmic langum. Those dark eyes she makes me do the leviathan my… Wife

The captain quarters on the USS Denver were modest, but nice. He, believe it or not could do most things himself as long as he had his radio with Bret and Matt to guide him along he was OK. Time to plow some water to France. A lot of holding the wheel and looking in front of himself…

Jesus shows up in Jr’s boat! “Holiness it’s God!” Jr says amazed. “Jr your right eye belongs to me, and you know that’s my blood you’ve been drinking.” “I’m taking the wheel, I’m captain now!” Jesus says. “Any questions?” “Hmm ah, I can’t think of anything, I haven’t felt this good in a long time.” “The dark forces are endangering us all, I thought you could use my help.” “I could use the help, of course.”

“Where is the sun today, the clouds,” says Wolf. “Just a glimmer.” It’s a race to France, but Wolf was left in the Caribbean. To turn back would be what’s the line, oh yes tedious. This unfortunate lack of foresight is hard to reconcile. “OK, send Wolf on a helicopter and we’ll meet him half way, to save time,” says Jesus. “Good thing this boat has a helipad on it. Jr has inherited enough money to keep them going. Jr gets on the Com in morning when gets some coffee, and makes it happen by spending a lot on credit to get Matt and Brett to make the arrangements. Women scorned, Devil born Man bent, hell sent.

Corroborate a bullshit story, it must be post 2014 and these seventies kids must be old, but they had been traveling through the Bermuda triangle so time is irrelevant now, and I’m not even sure this is Earth as we know it. Earlier. “Don’t worry I won’t tell him you asked,” Brett says to TV. “Get in the fucking bird TV,” says Wolf. “This is not some silversuns pickups music video you bitch Jr is obviously pissed he spent a lot of loot to get us back to the sea.” Back in the boat. Jr is unable to hold a conversation with Jesus, but they got used to strong winds outside, but the wind passed inside by the two men was even worst. “It’s not so bad,” says Jesus the Master, but the truth was the captain’s deck was uninhabitable for the feint of heart.

“Before time where we, began, men,” Jesus preaches. “Mysticism is a dance, rack the brain and shake the soul! Jr says. “Maybe…” “Jr you are a man of wisdom,” says the master” Then let me say, I understand completely, with your past that is not, and speak to the spirits of the earth for not, void reason, give into it. All leader’s have ‘dragon poison” as it has been for long and yes, not. Author note. This, this I have not pleasure in arrogance like they need.

This isn’t sorcery not, but debotary “Get a B.” At this point their both wasted. “looks drizzly… some river sand… for TV.” “You have a crush on her?” Jesus asks Jr. “If there is; it has passed, now that two devils play the drums.” “Are you nuts?” “But there’s more… So a lot’s of interesting anticdole crap!” “Let’s go fishing,” Jesus says with a big sigh. Soon…

The next day. “Where closing in on your coordinates Jr,” the helicopter pilot says. Jr from his bed responds on his Com, “Oh good, I’ll see you on the deck.” The bird lands shortly on the helipad on the stern. “Glad to see you!” As they make there way to the captains deck Wolf says, “How long have you been out here all alone.” I have a person here with me you would not believe.” They find the ship empty. “He was here, the savior, he was going to captain us to France.” Now what brazen tenacity does Jr and his sea fancy have to say such things?

TV’s wearing some short shorts and Jr notices her fanny. “I mean, yeah Jesus was here, here in spirit, that’s what I meant all along guys, says Jr. “We head to France to save Sister from trending fashions. I heard she’s into whips and chains and things so we got to save her you guys.” “I actually don’t think that’s a problem, “ says wolf. “Oh I mean yeah sure me either it’s just chains and whips are expensive. Meanwhile in France Sister looks into her crystal ball. “Try as you will Jr you can’t stop me. France is mine! For thy shall have their Queen rule in her beauty! (beauty is a French word),” and she starts waving her hands over the crystal ball sending storms towards are hero’s.

Secretly Jr knew he could use Jesus’s help, but decided he’d have to do things, like all men have too… himself. The dying process, like hell we’ll accept it it in the face of nature, but inside they all craved it. This crew of salty dogs and helicopter pilots now brace for the weather heading their way. “Make sure the whirly bird’s locked down, it’s going to get bumpy,” Jr says. Soon the clouds move in and everything darkens like thousands of bats. Wolf lights his cigar, “Your move lady confusion.”

Less archaic or else the the rain may have us. “Less them more you; Wolf, take the wheel while me and TV have a drink,” says Jr. In dismay Jr see’s; in his glory, Jesus moon-walking on the water. To have something to live for, the last temptation. A woman cannot give you meaning in your life and you know that personally, so death we call mother, sin’s keeper. He obviously had in roads and dances with your frustration in endless patience. TV the impediment of the times I want to gnaw on your fucking bones, alas white as snow holliness and sacril. “So you can trust the moon to lie, her nature.”

“Yes, this is the way of acceptance, the long game most care not alas! We suffer our sentinel got lost misplaced perhaps,” say’s the helicopter pilot. “What the fuck no one asked you,” say’s wolf. “Hey no one ever asked me?” “If no one dies what do we care?” Sensation, exploration, and the prime directive play, record, stop kill the fun MTV. The cancer of it all. Author note. Be the change and let me go to work you fucking vampires, may the Lord of spirits strike me dead. I know the pieces fit/

As below so above, and again as before and before as again, twice. The half truth. The helicopter pilot retorts “where did you get your arrogance wolf.” “I’m no hippie asshole!” The two seem to be bonding. The weapon known as Jesus Jr wields to his pure happenstance. TV is by Jr soaked and childish with breaking through the storm, though she had fallen down during the debacle and Jr falls to delight and splender. The amorphous seven on call, it’s s been said and now their dead.

Janus the portal guard of old. “Oh lanoo I got you now,” Jr says. Word came in that sister is in Paris. “OK crew gather up! We will be coming to Port soon. I will be getting some aged ham, cheese, wine, and other provisions please make a list of reasonable requests.” “A suitcase packed with speedos please,” says wolf. “Haha you lady killer.” Jr will be going in alone to find the hip hop queen of France. Sister senses that the jig is up, that she was praying to Juno that she could just live away from the salty dogs to be married to some famous rapper. Why Jr tries to get to her is not clear.

In his garb, he walks. Jr in cognito like the frog stalk’s a misquote. If the lesson kills you was it worth it, all human kind. Some one will pick it up and run with, not you. “I don’t want to battle her every night, bitch, dick lord to the elderly.” Jr fumes his frustration. He’s close, and has to psych himself up. She’s close.

It’s dead. Just some way we all got played and leveraged. His almost unlimited affinity for the struggle. Was Jr duck hunting? Sacrilegious idea? He returns to his boat with a few less bullets. Wolf and TV get special yarn to weave a tapistry. They both return to the boat, “so did you find her?” “No, I wish I never came here.” “let’s play the cover song creep, am I right.” “I wish I was special…”

The new unceremonious characters include Snake Cosmic the miner. Don’t ask why he mines, I don’t know, but he does have a space ship. On board the space ship is Geni Snake’s wife, also Mudd the copilot. The two men are talking in the cockpit. “we mine because we don’t fish,” says Snake.

“Best year we ever had,” says Snake. Mudd quietly answers, “that doesn’t mean life is good does it.” “What? Life never gave a shit, it’s is up to us to give a shit about life.” How unfair. Geni was spending time in the ships jacuzzi room watching the planet Earth’s news feed on a monitor attached to the wall. The marriage of Snake and Geni has resulted in no children, by way of things being to hard for to long.

“Computer put a call in for Mayor Frog, Emerald Pond, Central America, United Nations, Earth,” Geni says to the computer as it searches the directory database. A heavy set black man shows up on the monitor. “Well hello Geni, to what do I owe this pleasure.” “I wanted to ask you if the fish population has recovered there.” “Mayor Frog blows some smoke from his Cuban cigar, “Well that depends on who you know if you catch my drift.” “The mining year was good, but Snake wants to fish even though it’s been prohibited ever since we were on Earth. Something about some books he’s been reading about a tax collector and fishermen that were the wise men of old or something.” “Well the waters here are monitored most of the years after the fish population was wiped out.” “I suppose there still are those who would risk going out on the waters with the right connections, legal or otherwise.” Yeah Snake thinks it’s a right of passage to the ancient times and he would gain good fortune if he were to catch a wild fish.” “Well the legal route does not allow fishing for any reason only purchase of fish for breeding fish farms.” “See what you can do, and don’t mention any of this to Snake, I don’t want to crush his dreams.” “OK, I hope your year was real good for this sort of thing.”

Mudd muddles with some scrap electronic equipment trying to use outdated hardware with new syncing crystal each allocated to different moods from his collection of Ruby, Opal, and Jade. It seems ludicrous from both standards. Why can’t you just take the middle road? Moody Mudd slinger who hates life. His journals and attitude along with his preferences all got put into his crystals. His pessimistic philosophy that existentialism is based on saying life is meaningless. The long round of the year mining was wrapped up for the current sector. Mudd and Snake were friends but Snake was content on staring out the window drinking tea.

“You think I’m happy?” “I think you thought you were going to get a house in France, but didn’t. What’s been bugging you?” “Don’t want to be a loser, I want to enjoy my life.” The big ship has plants in it even. The smell is like firmament. Space lizards, space insects. The hidden over lords. What the hell do they want, to stay in the shadows? Back to ancient Earth, they let it go. No friends. Masters of our own destiny. The solar cults. We’re all waiting for something, but we are below help. There’s no accountability. Your playing a video game. A spirit in a video game a world soul crying. The white house lawn is to small to land a space ship there.

“Predisposed influence transfer code without talent.” Snake speaks a voice command to the on board navigation computer. The computer tries to find a sector. “Couda Draconis the tail of the Dragon. “ “ah lizard space, not good! They never were big into sharing those crapy rocks they mine out there, the pale one may negotiate a in for outsiders. “ Over stimulation has brought this to bare. Hyper competitive leans one way or the other. The five smartest people I know milk the magic cow tell what, no more milk and cheese.

Geni has charm and is the only the one on the ship who knows what that is. The machiavellian Sea of space and the son of a bitch draconians and for fuck sake indignant social animal who can learn to be praised to Nun the God dam primordial water. The sea of space. “Wow dark,“ Snake says to Geni. “This occasion was wine before the next sector. Satellite orbits of the of mode of nature nodes of elder moons. “Pick twelve Moons of saturn and try to cash them in,” says Geni. “I told you the Earth sector was let go! from the days of the savior of the E-lias the prophet of Rabi’s long gone.” “So um don’t be mad or anything but I think we might try to get to go fish. “ “Fish the bed rock of the Archons, God dam space fish in the oceans, suicidal dark children, we eat them we extinct them then they go back to the nebula and those God mysterious black holes and black matter. Now we now what has happened to fishing. In space or oceans! Need me to spell it up out for you!

The under side, the belly of the beast physical here is gone black as Pitt not standing on ceremony a cemetery. Those dead eyes see no future. Coffins in space, in the ground. “You fool!, beware of the fire.” Mudd is listening to Mr Cosmic universe rant. “Sewer snakes, they are obstructionist that’s it. I’m sorry. No nun no allegiances, nun! they come from the fucking ground.” “I have no safe space,” says Mudd “To fucking end all life of your fault you hate your father, that’s what is wrong right!.” “My dad was a quite voice trying to keep me safe from the snakes Mudd don’t tell me he didn’t try! They tried to run!, then John picked him up, sweet. Jesus has gambling debt, but everyone owes him money.”

The wet land is unreceived from the belly West from East
Then the plants were right some of them were not. The way that and the quarters were I thought odd. Odd is the triangle. The I tried with to ends of means. To the over supplies town down find and cease. The Texas radio and the big beat slow Virginia swamp. Ancient let go which ran then got caught by the shows and sorting out of things. “I thought to not go to swamp, and though the trees.” “What do think for it was wrong from the beginning then what then maybe not quite a certain.

The north turtle of the earth roads. It is safe and warm. “Nothing to say and he’s an idiot, so what” Cosmic says to Geni. “Regards to negotiations?” “Sounds like a no”, “sounds good.“
Mudd had said a lot to Geni about his transfering of the ships computer to a more organic operating system by way of crystals magnifying the ships plants frequency. Mudd had an interest in the seemingly impossible tasks, changing the mind set. “Not much here is there,” said Snake. The current sector is Zeta Reticuli. The game is asteroids of exotic matter. Three Grey’s appear on the monitors open channel. One of them has a red tie and makes a hand gesture of a upside down v. “Yes,” Snake says. The computer begins to speak, “train station.” “Look we’re here on business.” The screen goes blank.

“Christ!, don’t tell me those bastards are gonna ticket us, there just lizard lackeys unless you deal with the old mantis coders,” said snake. The ship gets pulled suddenly in a tracker beam toward a black hole and gravity sucks the ship closer. “It’s all over, we’ll never know why, a plant from the garden speaks through the ship com, “fly locked books, jump ship it’s over.” The pod detaches, jettisons the crew to escape. “Well played Grey’s,” said Snake. “They may have opened the black hole knowing we would jump ship. They won this round. The Grey’s were using the one of our plants in the garden somehow.”
The pod touches down on Daedalus

COROT-7c, it’s like Earth. “Well here we are, broke again and stranded,” said Snake. The pod is broadcasting back to Barren space for assistance. The nearest space station responds and is months away. “Looks like we’re here for awhile. Load up everyone were going for a walk.” After four hours they the sun sets and a tribe of tall skinny figures brightly feathered dance around a fire. They approach the tribe.
Snake approaches first with a raised hand. “Greetings, we come in peace.” The ferver of the thin men is at a high, they continue with their dancing. “Look were trying to to find supplies we’re stranded.” The chant loudens “who who who!” Geni notices the blood on the ground they are dancing around and the chief declares, “this is my universe!” Geni whispers to Snake, “They worship the blood God, and their burning animals they sacrifice.” “OK friends oocka boocka or what ever.” The chief responds angerly, “I observe the edge of the universe no one goes beyond! You stay here and I say when you leave.” “better do what he says,” says Geni. Mudd takes out a flask and tips it back, “well good.”

The buzzing of night was loud. Nature’s white noise, perhaps this planet’s cicada song. They were able to get food and drink for their hunger and thirst. There were several cots under a straw roof hoisted by nets tied from tree to tree somehow primative and interesting. It was obvious there were other beings that were responsible for the guests warm reception. Hidden limbs and hive mind was clearly in play here, some mother of all and ancient. They slept eventually into what is sleep that was never a guarantee.
The mire of geni’s affection to the people had made the night what it was. Snake found waiting on Barren space rescue seems like it will never come. The tribe didn’t give a shit about our feeling as bad as the mind to think of life. Thank God it’s all a contest to be won living not learning, stop learning start living if only, but we could fish for the next half of the long wait. Lots of death thinking how the women all pray to corpses and the fire. So things were ok for them. It’s like this place was meant for Mudd. He cot the biggest fish and the men ate it. No women to be had here but geni, and it seems she knows more about this place then she let’s on.

Mudd is exactly right yes, still savoring gallantly. The mustard was made in part by plants or seeds locally. The eventual conclusion is that they were rescued by a quandary. Then green and blue were the colors. The ship was of station eleven the crew of three. The divine wonder was met on ground. The extraction is like any mission. To long to hard. “You might say, sweat smells there not here.”

“How’s the food, its good need more salt.” Cosmic was in the mess hall. “I’ve never been those fake holes got us.” That was nexus the screen read out: kill you mate Com board eight level. “Follow the curruption, I hope no one has Diarra.” “There funny Mr…”it’s just yes. Genius is the more inclined to Aquarian that measure fish and corn husker lot’s of carp boxed. The is Com is currupt life ominous much omen very small room.
The comedian on the far side, yes. Logic end hieght rotten from a mind vegetarian creation too. The last priest of the world just fallen, female black horse, right. Picture every ain’t salt. That is just your pride.

Space station 47 time to pull some favors to get another ship. Snake had some good connections to get the financing. “Look to the pirates to sell you some rusty bucket,” says the station’s official. “Better get on the Com, Snake utters. The widows freeze up in the cockpit of Dub’s rust bucket. A message on Dub’s Com blinks, he accepts the call. “freelancer Dub here.” “Yes I’m looking for a ship.” “Well I don’t know why you’d look on pirate Com frequency we do not get along with the barren station business.” “ I am a freelancer of sorts too, only I have get along with the barren space expansion.” “I’ll tell you what if you do something for me I can get you lined up with a pirate who could get you a ship.” “Shoot.” “I want you to get a friend out of prison at the barren space station your at.

Elsewhere in pirate space Dub prepares and mutters to himself “Snake you must be an idiot.” The station was a hot bed of all sorts of functions including imprisonment for of course some extra cash. Snake had no office with barren space so he was biting off more then he could chew. Ships were as it happens to be very hard to come by as it were. In the cells there dwelled prisoner 1138, reptile and very smelly, the target. 1138 happened to be pale a very high honor within his species. Snake goes to the financing office to grab a line of credit and says, “By the way I had heard that there is some business in prison management you know incarcerations.” “Sure but it’s a do nothing go nowhere line of business, not much to it like your line of work I’m sure,” says the office manager. “I’d like to check it out if you don’t mind.” “Sure.”

The gully of the station a litiny of corridors Snake makes his way to stalock thirteen. The temperature is very cold in the lower levels. The first thing Reptile thought in the waking of his day was to stay warm by elevating his heart rate by breathing and stretching deeply in his cell. The prison guard was leading Snake to to prisoner 1138 by chance. “This the high value scum on this block.” Snake then couldn’t think of what to do now that he has narrowed in on his target but to get rid of her. The guard walking slowly in front of Snake and Mudd, and Snake moves closer and says, “can I ask you something about this over here.” The two move close and snake points to a panel on the wall then as she leans in and snake snaps quickly and puts the guard in a choke hold and brings hers to the ground. She loses consciousness and goes limp. “We must move quickly,” Snake says to Mudd. “Get her keys!” Mudd grabs the keys of the guard. “Showtime.” They make there way way to the vestibule to cell 1138 face with Lizard.

Vis-a-Vis. Snake is oozing sweat and breaks the ice to the ten foot tall prisoner. “Hello, you understand me don’t you, Lizard screeches and snarls nasally and nods. ” Pack your bags asshole were getting out of here. Snake brandishes keys. ” Dub sent me. We must move quickly if we are to survive this.” Snake in terror opens the cell and immediately there is a issue, Murphy’s Law! The cell opening triggers an alarm and Reptile blows through Snake and Mudd knocking them on their ass. They chase after him. Snake gets Dub on the Com,”Get your ass here double time! North corridor hatch.” The follow the bodies on the floor to the North corridor were a ship appears through the window viewing bulk heads all along the edge of the station. Lizard makes it in the ship at the docking hatch a hundred meters in front of Snake and Mudd. On the Com Dub says,”You have eight secounds!” They run in full stride to the hatch in the high gear they weren’t sure they had diving in the ship together.
“You made me lose it all risking my ass on a sprint for this monster,” Snake pants as he catches his breath. “Calm down and meet me in the cockpit I got a cold beer for you,” Dub replies on the Com. Dub is human who whares a white mask with a vertical line down the center. “Do you want a clean glass princess?” Dub grabs a bottle of mead and pours it to a massive mason jar and sets it on the dash board. “I’m still mad though,” Snake cocks it back and drips down the corners of his mouth, and smears his arm across his face then sits down and begins to focus.

Mudd says to Snake, “Where’s Geni?” “I thought you said you knew were she was.” “Nope. “Take a anti-depressant like everyone else she probably found a taxi back to Earth she’s safe there.” “Calliope seldom wished upon to be a childless and home sick,” says Snake seemly from nowhere like he didn’t care about the whereabouts of Geni. “Business brought us to do these things and lose so much here. Take me to my ship.”

We gave him a name, it was wolf. He wanted to smell rotten flesh and fescess. Only when the weather is right. This was the way of the scavenger and the blue Jay. To begin with he was just a boy set on fighting men. Now he is hairy were he once wasn’t before. Yes he was the one who made tracks. A lone wolf, also yes. The meat has lost it’s taste. The Grey hair on his chin was full of DNA of an animal, but this is a man. Carrying those bones around. Dragging his life. Absolute nowhere at all times. That is to say not present. Each evening of the moon is the one thing that rules this life the insane mother. His family has begun to diversify. Sleep the chore to bed down. So it’s been said to be a dog to a good family is a good choice for a born again. Wolf is no pet to a family. H is not a hippie who may like wearing dread locks and master trading ambitions that it’s all. “I don’t want that” says Wolf. The owls have swooped in to the rescue. Lovely creatures. So we established the moon as running the program. Hard to feel so many seconds that feel like hours there. My allies expect me to shop in ways and also take on sin in as a pay as you go program. Boring, plain, & control. Yullotion is part of my talks, neogism for prophetics. Dullness Norway ambition. The morning and early day. The only focus how wolf was estranged from the community and anyone who gets close to him. Wolf is talking deep and down. How deep. Lovingly for Jesus. For the books. Fifteen they said want out because I was sick. Sick how I’ll tell. Your just speak in sin. Yes worthy to know while he dad forgets. How holy she begets more than you. The tight don’t forget, she holds. We didn’t know what we were saying to each other yet they said he was my friend. Ew ish ick is and me all disgusting for how long the last from the loins sacked his power. To the point and to their fucking end. We’re you ever in the woods? Got a call back? I understand that because I got a proper let me down was not an execution or a hanging. The sorts of stuff, look the game is simple get the hunger fed. Follow your own obsession what ever it may be. Love is always saving. Close to the hill. Further up than the swamp. He got pissed for the sake of his mother who gave him a roof. His genuineness is deep in the grass. The notes have been embedded not that the intellect can at all save you. It’s all rigged. Knowledge to know ways of those deep in the grass. The shackled old man in the cells of the body slowly draining. The God that we all knew and loved captured once in prison while Taylor swift performs country songs. Your getting high on your own supply I’m telling you. Fantasy about that stuff. Society is really wrong and you’re an idiot if you watch TV. Need to smell like smoke. This man has shifted at anger and focus though not easy to make in unpleasant circumstances. Fake way to make way. All in all the programing has been lets say heart heavy. How bad? Gin & that’s all I know. They say that wolf had bad blood. Licked his own wound. He was just making a trail. The A team had the money to sniff it out. It was in the cards to carry trinkets. It is that smell of saw dust that seems like it is alive and sweating. The wolf wanted to encourage people to say it’s not so bad, and ice cream cone can be eaten walking the corner. The problem is amongst its own in that it was about a scorpion dance. Yes silver can save you, but you can’t eat it. Gold for what is owed and a performance stolen to a woman in a painting. This is about prey. Dead to feed the living. Living to feed the paper. Most paper is the source of all. Wolf has begun to read as before and he has little songs of gratitude for his scavenges. Little is his patience for loss of the test testing him and putting that energy in him. That is why. “So do, how do you do” wolf says to his TV. This Need be said about wolf. He hated women except for his moon. He has condemned himself to, so the longer the worse. Hating TV for the prime directive; the program His past was more then checkerboard. The fresh and clean living is the best. Or so it is the subtle way. Piss off to his regret as he wets the toilet. Slow as well. Next wolf has to drink his way to the shower. He naturally does not much like showering to the point that it’s sort of hard to do it without that drink, be it beer, gin, wine, or a home brew. They put him in the ground for his desperate cries. The ground being an animal not a man. Take those walks and be glad to see the sun. Let us remember that man is a social animal and that includes wolf. His blonde hair is thick and full. The dead spoken of Roman emperor intent to rebuild. To have a family is seemingly the ploy, a cosmic guise. Wolf thinks more about living and challenging his technology to work for him. The money wolf has to make for dating the thin girl Sirentha who smokes and gets her hair done and is a good person. So she then lets wolf do what he should prove that he is without a clue. He says “do you want to go out? In person she writes him her number. Like I said she let wolf down easy. Lucky he had some wits. Wolf made the most magic money of the family and that means nothing very good. Take the talent away and what do you have? A forest walker. It would be difficult to call wolf a social animal, a typical gregarious man. He was on the outskirts of regular living. The right to mate for the inept animal is zero to none. “Put the fear behind you” the TV says to wolf.

“Lend me you ears” says the TV. “I’ve got no more pay from the dead” says wolf. It’s impossible to be friends with wolf. He has enough energy to get on with life. It’s not sad or shunned in an absolute way down. The smell of spirit shall be the intuitive guide to up of the moon so the Earth learns who makes the tides. Ambivalent towards her warped water. Oxygen is the way of God. He loves it. It is in the air and Ariel was want to be worried over wolf. He says “Don’t condemn your self” in reaction to wolf flipping coins. His careless divination. Unruly. The less the best. Total freedom from love. Empty is the way. “I smell bullshit” the TV says. “My mess and being poor is your problem?” wolf replies. “Lot’s of trash out there. They both hated me. Take a commercial break? Time for me to get with the program.” Homer Simpson owns the TV. The Earth is lying to the cosmic where we’re wondering consciously what for. We’re where you wolf when the white women went afoul. Sugar turns to fat and carbs turn to sugar and carbs come from the germ. The worst is yet to come. Happiness works only on deceit. So it is established reality is imposed by the world of fear. Fortune is chance and fashion in war of the lore. Constant is consistent when walking in meditation. Less is more continuum. Breath, life, are all automated. The best of us is not understood. My crypt key is lost for the bird on the road got hit, a puff of feathers. Let the mind go a hundred steps removed, bad. Dad is bad. “Want to talk so personal. That is gratification. Do you have any idea talking commercial universe that’s all. Put some heat in those loins,” the TV professes. “I hate professional sports, “wolf says. One for all, rock and roll around you. He goes into his room, the cave.

The settlement of life. Slowly moving. Give the challenge. “I accept” say wolf. I dreamt it more than one and we’ll. “he isn’t ready” kiss-kiss. Now just me number 3. This it is don’t you ever give me something free sister! People die to play the part. Does it matter that wolf gave the Jr a game for matter over mind and looked in the mirror of a extended chess game and won some. “I the most” sister says. Wolf gave a shit, but he is the only one left. Numbers don’t lie. Scarlet was said to be guided for the heck world under her feet. Gruff she got goated in Hollywood. Ba’al is her favorite and she rock climbs, ironic. Wolf mutters “I’m lost and happy. ” your wondering who’s talking to who right. Snark tank. Curd the cheese. “He’s sick” the TV says. “Don’t you think I know that”. Don’t you think I might for my job. Wood Tree save you. Mushroom feet. My sons the two of them harvested from my feet. Blacken ops pitch blacked. “she went black, sorry” says wolf. “Why should I be helping anyone,” wolf ponders. Way to through a pass to your self. Wolf laments his losses. No stranger to empty words like this now. The time passed what is he going to do go to the time police. “I simply failed you,” said the worm in his brain. He drinks… so. Flooded that cloud. Was sent for wolf.

Jr, wolf, sister, and TV are all sitting in a circle. Jr really likes sister and the TV usually is the only one who gives wolf a chance. Wolf thinks he better than sister for his unearthly happiness. Jr keeps his distance from wolf mostly but has agreed to this now. The four are one. Blissed out of their minds at the beach in the dark. They begin to change faces as the shadows cuts their faces in the first family of God. The four head for the water perhaps never to be the same. They all had the same chill then were crazed by the water. The waves throwing their bodies. The only tree there watched on and began to speak. “Ye little ones may the moon have you dance. ” wolf started then believe it then they all did. Each limb sprang and fell and moved about. Wolf was naked and cold away from the others by the tree. TV was trying to kiss sister but she turned her head. Jr took his clothes then and went to the tree. Jr fell asleep wrapped in beach towels. Sister look like she thought not to much of this and stayed with Jr as their minds began to separate.
The tides were warming. The best part of waking up is cheap coffee. The authority figure was manna of loins so what. Jr and sister went to get coffee because they had a few bucks. TV bought cheap but had a stash in the freezer. Best to have an occasion for the good stuff before it rots. So the unseen is also patient. If you beauty be truly fair then it should be no discourse to your honestly. Perhaps not or maybe yes. Wolf began his morning by moving slowly. “My sense of smell isn’t all ways a good thing,” wolf explains to the TV. “The meaning behind things. “ The Pith.
It’s not bad for a computer. Predictor um no. Seek and communicate yes. Numbers don’t lie. The hive of the one mind. Hidden value. Matt is truly yours. Regards. Night writing is the worst no good comes of that. Only technology read a book. The v card? It is not in place. Matt is wondering if Brett will find a job. Matt got the family thing going on and not much outside of that. Brett is a Texan. That is all that need be said about that. Jr is wanting to reframe the question, the living question. Wolf is a bitter loser but lost and happy. I guess the diversification is moving toward a single singularity. Good advice life is short. Beating around the bush. Matt needed drugs to be suspended there longer to feel he was doing real work. He was used by them assimilating information from him then they push the button and he wakes. He’s been in a den before in settings that we’re ment to be comfortable. The best Matt confesses to know more about their tricks.
Matt is climbing a deer stand with his dad. His dad has a rifle. They spotted one deer but it was a tiny doe. “So luckily we don’t have to get our hands dirty, “ says Matt’s dad. Brett is wondering about how Jr got the invite from sister to go to the beach and who would want to go when wolf was there. It not like he cared much. A passive fool. Matt and Brett were friends that minded separate things then the others. By now Jr mind was separating from sisters and the TV but not wolf! Brett was well informed. The beach group did not know Brett like he did them.
“I’ve seen mountains of men before,” says Jr. TV as superficial as she is liked the thought of a man mountain. The coffee was finished and sister had gone back to her car to put a close to the long weekend. “The long six years are over, thank God,“ Bret says to Matt “I knew her not even though he worked in the industry.” “I guess it’s time to hate the system again,” Brett responds. “The computer is working so well for its age” Matt says. Keep the light on cause it gets dark.
We exist fantasy, reality, and truth. Digesting our substance every day. Part Opal, part hateful goat, and part sin. To all the love given to your neighbor in place of you. “Don’t be ridiculous Matt,” Brett says. “Glad to be so useful” caprinicas or something. Gravity heavy.
You have a ear. Good. Now know. Gentle knave. “Where is the story arch, “ says Jr. TV is smoking while parked. Those flags and isles. Matt is acting like a clown. To remember they all were one for a short while. Sister is moon sick. So now wolf thinks he has a shot at getting some. Not.
The glowing round thing is real. That and advertisement fm & am radio. “Make things up Jr,” says TV. “the truth is in your wrist. You were tagged, ” Jr. says. “In formula triangle I always pay the price,” says wolf. The three were seeking their maker. Who was behind this happiness. Where did it all go, funneled in the third eye in pain. Open to the pulpy orange juice. “Suppress and regress,” said Jr in his wisdom. Sister was by now in Paris shopping. The TV and the men were deep and down in the boat heading to some land descent for the horizon. Bret and Matt were now in com range on a ham radio. Bret says “Are we talking to the dead again?” TV replies, “I get it that’s would be a bad thing. “
Personal plug here. Part-time friend. Author note~ I performed a song for my mother today & I’m teaching my dad what I know. Guitar love my friends. Matt took his shift then enjoyed moving forward through the hall, the vestibule. “Need me I need you around sticking to you like glue,” says TV. “Does this help you?” Everyday is the first day of school and it never ends. “Good luck, it’s a marathon not a sprint.”
Wolf is the bellows of the brig eating jumbo. It was good jumbo. Wolf was on the thin side so what he had a great lay of the land. Jr on the other hand had a keg belly and took the role of being captain. The three liked mixing things up with a gentlemen’s game of ship captain crew 6 5 4. TV was in the crows nest smoking looking into blackness. Jr was on the radio with Brett and thought why rush things he was making a 6 furlongs every hour or so. ‘So what’ was on everyone’s mind and before that he was mad with the saying ‘get on.’
The deity dwellith. “Caution she is mostly serpentine,“ says red eye. The leviathan, the twisted snake. There is really a computer mind sent not by jelly fish but a chair, and I believe that an alien was sitting on that chair high on mind drugs putting me on a meta radio feedback. Japan was the English said then it went into another language. TV was telling Matt about this happening that happened at the witching hour. Matt says, “How does the movie part work?” TV says, ”the chairman is watching the same movie clips he is projecting probably to tie an ethereal link. The movie was telescoped for the chairman’s trance like method not unpleasant I might say. “ “Is this a thing” says Matt. “Yes, a alien thing,” says TV.
“Catch me,” says sister. “Stop why,” the guitar says. Tie a cosmic melody either tied by voice or drums. No one gives a shit about your feeling because everyone is so needy. “That and everyone is a know it all except where it counts! I don’t know,” says guitar. Back on the boat Jr looks about that whale of vessel that has been weathered continues to plow through the water. Icey waters but beautiful. Jr can’t run for office because he’s a bad actor. Making coffee for sixty grand for a campaign was nice. The work with wolf was a two part basically. One make coffee and drink beer. The three will be antarctic bound soon after they enlist the proper personnel. Who knows how long that will take heck maybe they will get some seamen from Japan.
Hot blood hold my hand… pouty eyes not haughty. Still complete shit. “When will it be my day in the sun,” says part wolf part fool, those yes, no compassion redeeming for us like wolf. “Two and me bitch! I owe¿ a lot of money to my better half.” Lots of time in the third eye. “Go figure how does that work?”
Le ohlem to art it seems. “yeah, getting better with persistence. You must of learned that from sister,” says Jr with a laugh. The boat had a way of making music, the banana boat coined from their need for sunscreen. Wolf was doing very well being the prospector by finding tuna on occasion, sorting out business negotiations and had a good sense about him. TV was working on her wood carvings with a plan that her art and crafts would sell on land. Jr says, “my dad told me when I was a young lad that we should ice fish with a bottle of Jack. I never made that invite due to wanting to chase women instead now look at us on icy waters giving a go at crab” TV was fanatic that she would catch a marlin one day but it was crab season. They fish but also do charter to earn some extra cash. They didn’t know if they all would commit to being salty dogs and not kill each other.
“Calm, that is sanguine hot blood you know they just don’t won’t to let you in the circle Jerk,” said TV. “The indignant dignitary short choleric not tall plus tolerant that is,“ TV says. “Are we all we just hitting the fourth wall together,” says Jr. “Abdicate from middle you far winded knuckle heads,” says sister. Oh the story needed a bitch. “TV was on some kick about being a kid again”. ‘Irrelevant…jibes me jibe you premonition hostage.’ good. “I’m sure it was something important,” Jr said. It’s called a girlfriend. Get one ‘radio fuzz.’ ‘It’s all we got’
“The flakes of snow Antarctica in our visions.” Jr laments. “oh gosh are we there,” says TV. Wolf angrily says “we’ve hit the fourth wall It’s nothing but illusion, the great Maya! “I’!l give you twenty bucks to tell me we’re the #&+:@’ we are” says Jr. Wolf says, “the ship has become a whale with its own mind my friends, it’s own destinations…”
“Is there any solstice in being lost?” Jr says. “I don’t think we will die from this just being annoyed that the life is zapping life out of us,” says TV. The blue thoughts seems to abound. “Get your energy right, partition your brain to the new memory format.”
The waters are warming. “When do you think will find land Jr? “ says wolf. “I thought you were our guide? “ “Yeah I guess we’re heading closer to the equator. “ “Not only is TV acting like a kid she starting to be isolated, spending a lot of her time in the crows nest.,” said wolf. “Dear God she losing it staring out at the stars, a star gazer!” “Teph, Teph sah”, TV murmers, no that’s not right what is it it’s something, no no I don’t want to go in the hole again. Posiden have them. No snakes to big good. Teth yes I losing my marbles. My heart moon mine!” The winds and air is falling on the whale. “Go check on her wolf,” Jr says. “TV are you OK?” “Yes I’m fine… I miss my mom.” “what?” “You don’t have a mom you’re an orphan.” “Am I? “ “Look we’re getting closer to land you’ll get a chance to sell some of your sculptures.“ “I through them in the sea. I thought that was the smartest thing to do. They all were bad.” “Do you want to join us for some music on the poop deck?” “yeah I have been thinking about that song, the third one. Net Net Geb Hod Bin Geb run. Snake bitch!!!!!” “Yeah that’s the spirit.”
Two big puffs, no make it three. Smoking in the crows nest. Then the last drags it is put out. Who are you mad at? This is just something new. Virtually fed up I guess. I’m back to not trusting anyone again mostly my math and spelling I guess. I don’t now if it’s the 25th my skin is on fire it is the 26th. It’s a bad guess is all. Yeah I suppose so. Shit me and the 40 choir with our only music that is to be. Look land. Try for some R&R and shit make some thing. This science is something scary it makes me wonder what the endeavor is. I can’t wait for you to be Kurt Cobain I need to have my nice things. To quote from the Masters of Hollywood’s finest. I thought LA was destined to be under water. No that crap is morally already under water with everyone in it now you know. Dead to me for sure. I’m the numbers guy and you can be the tax man it’s the way we can work together. The other guys can suck a lemon. Yeah the rest is not free it’s cavalier thieving time, the MTV generation just look at it if you can stomach the times. Forsaken cities just name it by God. Anyone could but didn’t. Fuck them!
R&R alone on the beach again. Nice breeze. The sand and the song. Holy shit get there. “You start over, but it gets easier every time, “ says guitar. Say goodbye to the gemini twins.
The boat sits asunder at the port docked. Jr can’t believe he got snaked by TV and wolf they left in the night. Jr’s on KP. “Time to get things in order,” Jr says. He has to start to find charters and some new game on fishing. Indian Ocean. “What the heck kind of food am going to find here, dead cats dead rats!” “Bunch of rice on the cheap for provisions I guess.” “It’s about my time I get R&R if Guitar was not such a slippery first mate.” Bret has hardly lined anything up for Jr in business. “One is the breath the other is the lung when netsah and tiffereth in gypsy math,” says Matt on the radio. “Where’s Bret, I’m behind on business deals,” says Jr. “I’ll patch him in.” “Bret here.” “I having a hard time here Bret.” “Yeah well you only pay me B team money.”
Potato soup! Boiled Eggs on salad. Four boiled eggs, four red potatoes and table wine. No one was at the table and they were out ranked anyways. Oh looks like out by the Fore staysail she’s kissing him. “TV says to guitar how was that for you?” “Fine guess.” Jr bellows, “This is not some pleasure palace!” “Yeah well it’s hard making shit up!”
Apart from the deep waters with a whole lot of rice wishing bad things about my management skills Jr presumes about the radio crew. “Guiding me through the woods, oh what of the water.” Well yes TV was attractive but both her and Jr started to question their time as salty dogs. Wolf was strange to begin with seemingly impervious to this sea delirium. Guitar moves through the ship walking the track when people aren’t around like a mad man, back and forth conquering the space.
They prefer the dark. Don’t ask me why. Something about being OK. The head space is magnificent and honest. “What did I do about it, I hid. Beautiful. The play park of the country with its trees. The cat outside the cat inside. The empty place were there should be something. It’s almost entirely automated. The man in the box, can’t break out. Just everyday is seen by every and they keep collecting his shedding of spirit, a country of vampires! “Look I don’t know try something new, different!” “Oh yeah it’s all rigged, you can’t even throw a hot dog down a hallway!” “You get no love ghee thanks!” What did you think was going to happen I insight totally power by inacting absolute saternallia!
“So we meet again, my friend.” “Obviously it’s hard on both of us,” wolf says to guitar. “Thanks for calling the dogs off, ” Wine says, clumsy Spirit! Head to toe! Dot dot I think you know. So spells abound fool! The flames of fire wither! Sanguine you are Phlegmated. So now I bring this to bat that I say got my head back it’s not a fun thank the Lord. “We’ve been through a lot.” “Glad to have you here.”
“How do you memorize the words Jr?” “say it over and over written on the wall.” “I want to break through the gimmicks” TV says to Jr. “Accumulated worth with it.” No use in saying anything. Talking heads. Everyone’s the same for years. It is really hard to change one’s personality. Almost impossible. I’m rotting in the flesh nah maybe. Don’t try to understand white men, they don’t make sense, but suspicious one does make sense.
“I know I can do better,” TV says. “The spirit has left me what a relief! Thinking about the dread it was short root passing. “The big sleep,” says Jr. “Another ghostly night, I don’t want that money.”
“Let me say, the life and animal. It can happen depending on the animal. “The one that seems to be kicked out of the group,” says guitar. Wolf didn’t like being compared to an animal let alone a roster. “So life is an animal so that’s what I’m trying to wrap my head around,” Wolf says. “Either that or the path of the fool if that sounds any better.” The on going agenda was to try to make sense, but it was not easy. They must be showing weakness with some sort of narrative to what life makes them do. That makes things bad. Human, not a wolf, guitar, TV, or seamen just a human with days passing with no real reason but for a human to prove he is human. “We can think but there’s so many that drained fate dry to make the rest of us objects.” Oh holy simplicity, don’t worry I’ll do the thinking while the human fragments into objects multiplying it’s self. The creative wing of perverted voyeuristic consumers. This is all paperwork sorting out the scavenges of truth. It’s about the only thing that’s allowed and risked a lot for it. So time is your game slowly suffocating, smoking out my guidance. The age of the priest pushed by the TV. “Do you want to be a human or animal?” High entitled objects? The secret formula is strict and rigid to be part of the human race. Hope you figure it out!

“match sound,” good news. It’s OK. It only should get easier as long as you stay relaxed and maybe not drunk on rum. “Yes, your spell worked, you both have done well, only what is helpful is blurred or made to be confusing.”
No wine around just guitar. Reach out to the process. The first mate has the daily attitude distortion. Guitar mostly stays the same not changing. “So what does that mean? “ “I confess to tripping on dreams is all.” Both the wolf and TV seem abashed. On the ham radio “Jr how’s your weight problem, “ matt asks. “I got to lose some weight, twenty pounds, so shit I’m excited. what about business Matt I can’t save money worth shit.” “Yeah well that’s Brett’s department.” “I will see about getting those sculptures of TV’s to a buyer.” “Yeah well she might not have much of them to sell, so art is absolutely a hilarious option.” “Well how’s TV’s attitude been?” “Not much melancholic for to long, she’s good at being positive.” “What of brother Wolf?” “I really don’t know.“
Listen I guess here. Radio is free put Matt on. What! *I’m fucking trying to sleep. ‘yeah well we’re talking about a cardinal bird, shit they aren’t never seen. Yeah well don’t try pull rank on me you son of a bitch. OK gentlemen let’s refrain from that. I once had that light well of course I’m the fathom of higher dimensions so I’m old and cozy with the father of America! Well yes the cosmic horizon verse one, a bitch snake!
The snake what the heck. The one I shall say is part of the patron of the country so there. The model of our humanity pretty red jewels. Pale like bird poop. So. “I’m being told Matt would like to say something“ “Yes, moral is good toward attitude for the rhythm of the two years. “that’s great,” Guitar says. “I’m OK, the guessing has begun anew. I was supposed to gain musical knowledge Matt.” “I do have a couple of nonsense things that plays to something, right?” “So yeah nonsense in a practice might be a new way to approach style, but only as a guise, I do believe in making sense. It’s the lost art of common sense!”
Matt is prudent and on the pay roll with Matt. Two high druids of radio. That son of a bitch was right the time did go fast. Put him in a nook and cranny he’ll run out of options real fast. Relationships are good in the fragment besides the characters that have to make sense from things we don’t understand. So. Oh um a drawer that can play drums. “I’m down two pounds,” Jr says to sister. Yeah that character was one of all and four of a great time that there was a female around besides TV who is just a star gazer. So the bow of the ship is the front, or so I’m told.
At the gas station Matt ferries his boat. How romantic and unselfish don’t make me laugh. Objects become real, shit this my job! So a female around is in want. Yeah maybe a house painter. Four more sentences, I’d like to sleep. That shit should be on lock. Player of instruments, gamer era, movie enthusiasts. Must be able to have a pulse… Able to understand an lack of artist.
The master is very unpleased. “Who,” says Matt. Don’t drink from the river. What else would I call myself. Deep breath, I already did my hundred days in the pig pen get my drift. “Three times for me a lot more for you Jack hole, Yeah well, Jr says. thought I can bake pizzas with sister for work.” That is as bad as it gets, but for me I’m fighting with the toilet. Boy the seat is really on there. I want to start calling in favors. Oh that’s not how it works, bullshit! Next thing I’ll tell you next the fridge will turn on me. First we get the sugar, then we put it in the coffee, then we drink the coffee. What’s that worth I’d give you money to paint. Yeah paint, “I hated that place.“ “No shit Brothers right.” All married but me.
Things flipped upside down. Ton of bricks. Law of art is smoke and wine. “I think reactionary thing is good at times, says TV.” “Lost some of my perspective,” says guitar. About out of money, four more sentences. “I don’t know how to meditate anymore.” My virtual life sucks like the art of living. Sometimes real but mostly fake. Let me guess how another thing works, privilege and follow the leader.

Psychopaths of Face

 

 

 

 

Chapter 1

The assembly at the funeral was ready for the girl to sing to the mourners of a dead man. The dead man was her grandfather whom with the entire family had loved very much. She prepared a song to sing in which she could display her talents for entertaining. Her family was tight nit and were all attending for the most part and she began blessing the assembly with her voice with a tone of being somewhat detached and distant as she sang a country song that overall was very sweet and received well. The girl was only looked at as a girl because she was small in stature but in fact was a woman, but funny as it is both. After the burial she walked with certain adulation along with her cousins in the graveyard making chitchat about their dresses they had worn. She was in a blue dress and had a red ribbon tied around her waist and she had had golden blonde hair that had slight wavy curls in it. The day was beautiful with the open dark blue skies and glowing sun colored patches of clouds with reds and orange hues. They walked to their cars together then drove to a banquet room next to a church were a meal was prepared for everyone as the long event was coming to a close before life would move more into private and personal troubles that the reader will find out our next character is facing. As for her she finds herself at home lying on a couch in a dark room with the TV on. The night is very still and she has little interest in the movie that she is watching. She has been having trouble sleeping for the past weeks and it seems that she is lamenting a living soul. Her poor circumstance puts her beauty in question in her mind for she is does not have that much money for new clothes and isn’t able to afford traveling to new places anymore. She is stuck in a condition of turning wheels in her head thinking if only I had more money I could live in a warm and bohemian area. Was there a time for slavery to be so present in our minds, she thinks? Her day to day was like a distant need be happening not yet realized. There is no time for ice cream when her nature was so ingrained in her as such being born from a tree. She had suffered a traumatic brain injury in a car accident previously. She is only able to understand more that her injury had shifted her views perhaps. She goes on for days between work and her couch to occasional phone calls but is struggling with something of her former self, her child-ness she still holds onto.   Her adult life is primary set with living with her boyfriend she has been with for several years. She believes he is the one and likes to make him happy and stays with him through her intermittent will to want to get up and leave everything behind. She sometimes likes to act silly with people in a childish way saying ridiculous things about how the people in Hollywood are real nice people. She often sings her favorite song over and over for everyone to bring out her inner child connection with the cosmos and it’s will set things right. She just realized the gravity of time. She had just finished another shift at work and is happy to spend time with her boyfriend. The boyfriend is a very sensitive guy who seems to need her for a committed life as she does him. She does her best to assuage his fears that he is still important to her as she becomes mostly a roommate who just likes having a person around to share in the day to day. She lived and loved hard and found her way from the couch to the phone and then pass the day to day to designing a storybook for herself including wedding plans and a lifestyle in a real princess fashion. It is true girls just want to have fun, that is what her essence is all about, but that is madding. She drifts in and out of the hate for having her focus primarily on money, but that sad but true fact seems to be what she dwells on. “I bet there could be some get together of people of the same mind,” she thinks. “Why is it so hard to find a group of people who do want to do the day to day?” She looks for friends to want to spend time with her as she becomes more aware that she needs something more to do. Her job is only a means to pay rent and her social aspect is craving interactions with someone new. She needs something else to do. Her house has become a gloomy place with the burden of mold in the basement. Her relationship with her boyfriend is strained and they start to argue if they will still be a couple that lives together anymore. So there is nothing wrong about her other then just some personality issues that only seem to make her outgoing? So who will be understanding of the types who fear their lives. Set the stage and take the tickets. It all cost so much for personal gratification. So much of choice there is for what she cares to do. “Perhaps I could wait tables to get by if I don’t hate it completely,” she thinks. What was it that led her to doing social work for her job in the first place because now she decided she did not enjoy doing it so much, so young to be giving people bad news for a living. She is so determined she becomes a facet of time. Trying to have a clear mind and a good space to live in is the only way she will have a chance for her happiness. For it should be clear she is a art child needing to have time to express her beauty in what every form it need take. She is just able to get on better. Much better at finding things to do for there are always things to do. Something else something new, live more, love more. She is one that can handle it. There is so much that affords her in life the benefit of being young. She then finds her way to “summer camp” for two weeks but it happened to be the hospital and it was winter. Her energy and sleeplessness was all it took by chance to find him. The guy who it took too long for him to know his own nature found her beckoning to him. Under the circumstance they hit it off well and seem to be somewhat compatible though she was very approachable as it was anyways.   She may be better or worse off having met a guy like he. What could he offer as ways of advice to her because he was older and was supposed to in his mind find some wisdom to impart but that wasn’t necessary and she did not expect that of him. Mostly they just enjoyed having each other to talk to and became rather glad the other was with them. They share company for two weeks and then what else is there? The reader will simply need to know that this meeting was of by chance and from it what choices they will make having seen themselves the same for such a short period of time. She has met him in turmoil of medication error and will move on from her set back and carry on to get her will sorted out. It has always been about making oneself happy. She has always known that. If she could only know that he is not that different from her for only in the liberty of this country are their lives different, opinions aside it is true that love is dead, other than self-love most certainly. There is only that love for oneself and he is slower to realize that, and some people need a lot of time to be ready to care for others for being alone in the world is his dark truth and broken faith in humanity makes working for money the worst evil, the necessary evil of what we knows of society

 

 

 

Chapter 2

He was the best of us, he was the best its fair to say. He did some of everything and even played some basketball and skateboarded for crying out loud but that doesn’t seem to matter anymore. He is of somewhat athletic build of average size but has found it hard to do a game of basketball without feeling it strain on his body now that he has begins middle adulthood. He finishes playing some one-on-one basketball with and fellow who was around his dwellings and is winded trying to keep up the fight with a fifteen-year-old scrapper. He goes inside and pops the cap of a beer to relax, to bad for him he was left under that roof thinking to himself “oh no what about the finer things in life?” That was not for him. He finds his space shaping around him in his squalor and connections of what must be endless patience waiting for him to be that guy we all new he would supposedly be the big part of all and a butt of the joke hope for humanity. So how many last ditch efforts did the guy have you may ask? There were a lot of them I suppose. He can’t seem to get over the sounds that surround his living. The nut job of people he deals with makes it hard to get passed drinking and playing basketball. Always the sound of a basketball bouncing with some little brat talking to himself against his will to study and learn. He has heard a whisper in a brief moment of quiet but it has gone away, his fate was to be surrounded from noisy neighbors that he could not understand living there much longer as an option. He has been watching the same TV show for two years thinking it something other than a form of fantasy, which to him he is entirely wrong to do so. The best enjoyment he could find was a bottle of wine and watching a movie about surviving in a jungle against an alien predator as he eats a philly cheese steak sub then mixes a sip of wine in his mouth chews them together and forgets his lot in life if only for a short time. He was two aswell, his inner child has gone into the cosmos in search for help against this pain of society. His adult side is what makes sense of the higher and lower self. As adult he is simply responding to information as it is fragile like the inner child but is the part that survives in life to become most of the day-to-day living operator for him. An adult child is how he likes to view himself. The lower parts of self being more a child adult is simply concerned with gratification. The inner child is just as much of a part of the higher parts of his self only it is not forced or likely to remain as an intact part of the self as one loses contact with it’s cosmic nature as typical formation of being an adult in contemporary society makes it’s hard to stay. The cosmic nature is a creative force and a chief principle in ones connection with true happiness or so it may be thought. He says to himself “I’ve been dehumanized I know that now.” “There will be no more child’s play it seems the time is up.” For the past ten years he’s been wanting for scars to fade with no luck. To give up on things, but to have a personality of can do is entirely based on how he views his self in terms of looks and that is simple fact. His adult self has to hate how things have been nothing but prolonged misery of an existence. Living in squalor for what’s worst is his very time of privacy is up. The time is now to conquer the world while there is still time left. “I wouldn’t worry about it it’s just me trying hard,” he says to himself. A worry of actually being insane starts to concern him. His despair gets to him and his age makes it worse that there is nothing much more than boredom in everything. To just survive until he is not legally required taking medicine that makes him feel so discombobulated. It must be the injections he receives for his continued stay of commitment, why else would he feel so out of sorts? It’s as if his mind were a lighthouse encased in fog rendering the light unable to shine through to find any truth in his situation. They may take pity on him the few who talk or in anyway interact with him but none do. For what he is forced to do to get attention from others is the only thing he can by selling himself as an artist, philosopher, and musician is by no means easy. He reads some intellectual material he sometimes takes to the bar making himself stand out as the only one who chooses to read at such an occasion. He finds it much easier to read a comic book then to read philosophy at the bar for the limited need to focus on the topics. Most times when he’s at the bar he can’t seem to find anyone else like him. “There all just people trying to get away from their homes for a short while,” he thinks. That must be the commonality. “It’s personal but isn’t it always you know” he says to himself. “A way to remember that is, your own story that is whatever it means to you.” “So someone to put it to I guess.” “Don’t give me this unfinished story bullshit, I want to be in a better place.” To remember he was loved once but from whom. He need not know man preys on women at will when he wants. He finds self-reflection the only thing to do and has a hard time finding any way to be positive about being single. He would like so much to be able to have her in his life but just feels that he can’t sell her anything not even a story of a man. Insanity just insanity, good work but nothing but lonely misery. Stay of living so cold always cold for most of the year for him. He need be a person for Christ sake a person! The best that can be afforded to him with no social aspect to his life being it better to know what he does not like he must always ask in addressing his current circumstance. Truly one of his own kind and alone for that reason why? He can only do so much and it kills him that he must submit to what he’d be better suited for how he used to be, but now there is a daunting affirmation need to be fulfilled. It’s like constantly fighting off an infection for him. Collecting his thoughts seems to be his biggest past time. Rediscovering things and reliving some things, but why is there a purpose to be defeated undoing the meaning of things leaving them somehow not good. She is detached, he thinks of her as some sort of robot with some of her personality gone elsewhere. What is left is only textbook right answers that should pass off as interest. “You can’t make people like you” he thinks and does not know what to do about the friendship he’s tried to maintain with her.

 

 

 

 

Chapter 3

The universe works in mysterious ways. The time lines are merging as cyber empires and normalcy go. The work is done it is time to kick back and relax if only that were true. Getting on is the tattoo on his mind. A reality check is some small towns you never make your way out of, as the whole United States is only so big for the king of nothing. It seems what he wants and what he has doesn’t really agree with each other. It is time for him to find his nature and who is behind this, this prison type of life that is meaningless and why should it be dept slavery, love longing, and happiness suppression. The most important work in the world, defeat the snakes. Just talking and writing is a means to influence others. The whole despair thing as it happens to be only possessed by some will make people crazy. If not romantic than of a heroic nature all the same the art of living and the realm of despair have shown their faces to him in ways other than dreams. He didn’t know who to talk to and that a women needs to be approached and man supposed to prey. He is slow to understand women and now you know. This world tries to make both him and her less human as there cosmic nature is of no use on Earth. Cold, the first focus is always to how to stay warm. The king of nothing and the Cyber Empire have in some way connected. Turn on and shut off. The ability to manage states of unrest and undesirable circumstances is not easy. How is it one can be in the mood or motivated to live? It is a form of shopping, life long shopping it seems. I want this I want that sort of thing. How do friends and love interests play into reality? For him he is simply questioning the premise of life it’s self. If not in fulfilling relationships and no worldly success what can he do but question his life? His views and interactions between people seem to be hollow consolatory gestures. He thinks if woman are robots then it is the moon who is responsible for there programming. Then what of man? For surely there is a difference. He resigns to being his own resource a source called the hollow reservoir. He had been summoned to the woods and so he pools all his resources to assemble a pontoon boat. He works on building it for weeks in the driveway pounding nails in boards drilling holes and tying rope. How great it was for him to have enjoyed working so hard. His greatest achievement was convincing his two childhood friends to help haul it down to the river. He sets up camp and stitches up a tent out muslin canvas, branches, rope, and dental floss. He talks to trees and does the whole loony ordeal of marking his territory and of course is smoking tobacco. He wasn’t so hateful back then and could cry for the moon in his misery of running away from home. There is so much trash out there it is good to get away from it, so much for his going out at night, going nowhere at least he wasn’t so depressed back then but now writing this I see how depressing it actually was. This neighborhood is trying to remove him from this place it’s not healthy the way he tried to put roots down in it having committed his memories of the neighborhood in his large painting and having run all over the place at great lengths wondering along the river at varying distances and directions at time wadding his way in the river and even marching several miles into town all because it seems heaven had in the past mated with earth causing some men who feel lost and to be confused as to were they should be. The pang of the insanity hits him again. Driving and alcohol and some sort of task, anything really is the only thing he knows to do. He operates as a hateful man in his alone time if he is lucky to feel content for any length of time at all. The attention span for other people’s art is all determined completely by the vibe. The amount of time that can be spent making recording music and feeling creative are primarily available to him in the morning when he wakes up. He has moments where it is almost as if he is with a friend when he creates as he talks through the process out loud like a painter who pretends to have an audience. So eventually he fills as many roles for himself as possible as his own lover, taskmaster, driver, and reluctant friend. He has been leaving the house whenever he could whether or not he had his own car or money. It was his hometown bar he started to find a sort of sanctuary for him. He finally was happy I guess you could say, but then one night he found picking himself off the ground of the parking lot with police finding him there after a valiant fight with strangers witch ultimately lead him to being choked in a head lock to the point were he could not breath but fortunately the grip was loosened as he was taping the ground in shock before he would lose consciousness. They all ran once the police showed up and another trip in the ambulance once again in his life this time to get him treatment to see if he sustained any neck injuries. He receives a disorderly conduct charge and then finds his way through a long time of punishment for it. The length of time has made little say in his life as of most currently. Some of the same feelings of happiness and contentment are illusive for him most his commitment time. A vacation to not have to work with semi cold beer will have to do for him either that or the alternative of just doing jail time. Organize is simply waste management. A corrupt file, the darkness of space, and lose ends need that need be corrected. Living arrangements and career trajectory, but how to get on with some self-esteem issues that need be addressed with the only consolation being books and masturbation if at all. Getting off prescription drugs and living with the best treatment that one can find. Seeing a future is hard but living in the day is possible. A companion for the evening is in want. It all seems like habits to start only to eventually stop. There is a future you must know or is the past all there is. Obvious set backs and trauma he has to sort through. He sure could use a better antidepressant but then realizes that is not the real solution. The evil that reoccurs in his life is troubling and I guess understanding ones self does have its limits it seems. Psychological profiles are the way to file everyone neatly, everyone’s dirty little secrets they live with for their claim to life. Does one even think about redeeming themselves? I’m sure for feeling good is better than feeling bad, but then how does good operate? It simply wants us to know the error of our ways I suppose and evil does not care about having a conscious. The past is filled with the struggles sometimes siblings have their way of manifesting themselves as tormentors. The other tormentor being a mother who demands respect and show of love takes strange displays of a controlling nature and often makes for a bad family time, and if to many tormentors get together they become monsters amplifying each others need to subjugate thinking themselves as perfectly normal in doing so.   To have a life and not be a psycho or just watching the same recycled shows over and over how many times. The little things in life that build up to be troublesome to the psyche as it were are at the most devastating when it is only the blame that lands on oneself. My obsession is what, not feeling alone. I have been driven into seclusion to tell you the reader that when he had everything figured out then someone had to but hands on him then eyes too. I also think it would drive anyone insane to have their brain picked so much, the folly of an intellectual, but to the avail of what need be written for so those who are made to think their evil when their not get there say. For simply writing became an interest and option, much like his art not a common calling for most for it is the desperate and depraved it appeals to and a gift to hear the white voice. For all we know technology is what allows people to be happy in the most part, but there is more to the unseen to be made seen. I have little interest in science but more in the human capacity to know suffering, embarrassment, and pain. So logically the magic of art is to be the purer solution to true understanding a fuller picture of living other than what science and technology can offer. Those who retain a strong human connection to feeling oppressed may find ways to communicate this if some art is made about it. It is man that is magic. A simple cause and effect of his time spent and accumulated worth along with it. Life takes away some of his humanity for I suppose feeling, and by preference feeling good is the only meaning of life, but at what cost especially to others, the more susceptible people. He has discovered a lot of bad and pain and if I need say he has lost his humanity but it hasn’t been that long for him to know what is still ahead. Yes his life is not pleasant he seems to find ways of feeling that in the extreme. The drug respirdol shuts down his ability to utilize his brain but my brain is under the affect of that same drug so it is known now that he is my own struggling soul that happens to be very upset with society in what they will do to people by way of things such as forced medication. Find out how to get it repealed you might ask because I’m not even playing with a full deck and this story of mine is about serving this time for little reason at all. Six months is too long to have to take shots but this writer’s troubled soul need be spoken of but it’s hard and I need to find a way to tell the story with addressing the pain but enough for now of my resentments it is they who are committing crimes. A therapist has a set of eyes on me so no need to be overly concerned.

 

 

Chapter 4

He knows that depression is not real anymore there is only the life he has. It is that knowledge that there is a lot of bad in this world. One must separate themselves from as much bad as possible for too much bad is detrimental to good health. He has been surrounded by it causing him despair for simply feeling trapped and stagnant. To move more and make progress is the best though he knows its not easy to get help.  He must find his will and know that being persuasive is a benefit but concept he loathes. How many forms of persuasion are there? The truth of the matter is people hate helping others and this is a help yourself world. There are times that the balance can be turned to yearn for living again past learning, but life is a life long learning process trying to fight of the infection of samsara. The house he spends his prison sentences in has become his mother as if he’s living in her belly again. Really it is the coffee maker that is his home and wherever he goes with it will be his home. It is the art child that partly responsible for this.   Her ability to suggest and persuade is her milk and honey and she pays an awful price for it. Getting there always getting there but is there ever a time where one simply arrives?  Probably not for her at any great length of time in this world. The first instinct for a person of good spirit in this universe is to get out, but what ever this universe is it does not want people getting out. Each and every day people live in jail and would be lucky to have their life ended from the body. It takes about eighty years or so then what; try not to be reincarnated again to a life of slavery. It is said that there are dark forces that use people who then are the cause for a lot of misery to the masses for them to carry out there quest for power. Again he thinks he must be alone but can’t be at peace yet for the quest to have is on his mind rather than accept living in want. All the unfinished business of life but why is it that women hate him so. Even men have large reservations with trusting him for maybe seeing that he has no faith in humanity if only he could prove otherwise would he have a chance at being liked by others. It seems the inner child has brought back news from the cosmos. He wonders if he can understand what answers it will give. How even was he to trust the child to help if it was darker now in perspective cosmic knowledge for it has gone away only to bring back a message saying, “you are doing holy work and that cancer shall not touch you.” He finds the cosmic nature troubling as he has a hard time believing in himself and is not sure what exactly what the cancer was suppose to be. He now seems less able to grasp onto much direction for his time. He sits in a chair outside smoking and for some reason it no longer seems to be giving him any solace for passing the time. “I guess the time to enjoy smoking has past,” he says but most likely he will finish his pack all the same. “Only coffee for me maybe.” What fantasy is there for him to cling to.  For everyday there is a need for something that he may rest his mind upon. Waiting to come into his greatness is all he is doing. The lonely vacation or jail time what ever it is, but surely some sort of prolonged agony of his life. Spring is the season now and finally the sun has given more warmth to the house where he stays. He still is in the habit of wearing sweatshirts and jackets and sleeping with a wool blanket for it is still cold at times. He sees his face every day in the mirror and looks at what ever his reflection tells him. Is there too much sharing of personal pain in what he shows, my guess is yes. This guy is not one to say he is ready to go get them with a can do self esteem march on life just yet, but he is wasting into what is afforded to him his lonely guitar and paint brushes and even those he has a hard time finding fulfilling. Having no social interactions and having low self esteem make most things a kind of drudgery for he is supposed to perhaps be excited to move into some apartment as if it will be good for him. His will to love people when he has not much love for himself is stifled obviously to the point were he will even resent being apart of occasions he will have to attend. Perhaps there are some other adjustments that can give a life back to a man that has lost so much over the years. In the meantime it seems whatever cigarettes and coffee can offer him. Not much to live for is there for him. Suspended between gratification and progress the great balance that has been lost on him. Hard to understand but it is his private hell he must navigate alone to a point of resolving these issues. How the time of several years has prepped him to complete just a little more for there are still some more months to go. To be brought to the sidelines in life is what became of the troubled years finding a way around it however challenging for how things need to be done and settling for the low points is unacceptable anymore.  No more set backs! He doesn’t seem to care about other people much for how could he. The one thing that seems to be playing on his mind is the woman on the TV. He notices how nicely she fills into her outfits and seems to wonder more about wanting time to see her, but the silliness of seeing her that seems to lift his spirits that a man could like a women on the TV,  but it’s like she speaks a secret to him. Life again proves to be funny that way. There was his chemistry teacher that made an impression on him. He knew from the first day of class that she was a rare one and that he was lucky enough to deal with a good human being for that is in his experience seems to be an exception. When they talked she seemed to drift into a dream state as if she was longing for some private fantasy and she new that he preferred for eye contact to be that of looking to the side of the person for he dislikes people looking at him straight in the eye. This made her very appealing and approachable for him how she would notice and understand him without starring at him. This was one of the few people he had enjoyed in a long time. Well there are habits that become the man. What happened to the man he used to be? I think he is just on his way back to that person he left behind who had more enthusiasm towards forward progress. Without playing with a full deck how is he supposed to achieve greatness? The rigid framework of a mental illness is what thankfully for some can see as bullshit. A job for some extra money would do a lot of good once that threshold for it is built up again. One month is a long time and three is even longer. He remembers standing in a jail cell; here he was staring out the doors hanging his arms out the openings. Constantly wanting to see other humans and trying to engage them. There was someone at a center desk some of the time and a person who would walk through the circular jail cell room. The night spent there was short enough and there was a breakfast of French toast with some orange juice given to him in his cell. The woman who was working that night wanted to tell him he was going to need thousands of dollars for the trouble he has been found in. A simple yellow light turn light that he drove on perhaps to late, but did anyways not noticing there was a police car behind him gets himself cuffed and put into jail for the night. He submits to a breathalyzer test and blows a .08 the exact lowest point of illegal levels of intoxication.

 

Chapter 5

The king of nothing, what a mystery for people to try to view themselves in such a way, for this must be some person who doesn’t seem to fully understand their self. Having nothing and being able to live that way or to say making his living from nothing is hard to grasp. What can he do with wire, pliers, newspapers, and glue? A recording of time with nothing but what he can create in small moments of bliss and anguish by assembling order out of chaos. It is just stuff and just something to do until enough of it is done to be something. The idea of enjoyment is very private for him. It is something good enough to do to commit time to what else? The whole thing need be redeemed somehow that together these separate pieces of effort be called a collection of work from a human being. He thinks back to when he worked at a target store. How phony the operations were there. I bet some people could make it there but he was working two jobs at the time when he was eighteen and then one day they let him go in some passive aggressive way because the trial period of work was over and they did not want him anymore. He had started work from a young age then came a time that he has found his way out of it. A need to understand a work history with large gaps is his problem. I guess he just never found a job that was a good fit for him to work for a long periods of time. His goal some day is to have an art portfolio and eventually hold down a job. To have a bachelors degree and work maybe is the best plan then just degree hunting further. The empoyment gaps in part can be explained partially as time focused on art projects. Understanding is important. What does it all mean? A lot of it is between the refrigerator and toilet. Maybe everything isn’t funny but there is art and the artist somewhere between the vicinity of the truth and the farm. The home has taken on a personality and uses his mother as a sick computer file that makes her into a demonic robot because her soul has been tainted. It scares him to see this side of evil as the house has a bad energy that makes those who live in it crazy. Remember everything is wrong there is a corrupt file that has infected the program of mother. A force that has gone the way of will to subjugate another and will to have control over another is this perverted computer mind that is tormented and can not ever seem to get things resolved to being good for conflict is what it seems to favor. He is his mother’s absolute plaything and this is what hell means and is like. While he is in the house he is miserable unfortunately this is what he has fallen upon. As I’m writing this I can’t explain how life beset itself in such an awful way to feel pain so deeply for him. For a well to do family there is no going back to the house you grew up in to live with a parent it is not healthy to do so. Living sick is what I can tell you of him but he knows what not for. “Why am I made to feel so much pain,” he thinks. Life just took him for a ride and dropped him off at his mothers with nothing but trauma. I mean Jesus Christ you think he would have at least had sex or had a good girl friend nope nah that would mean life gave a shit that he was living. Ok well at least you would think he has friends right? Wrong again. Building a life from a pile of shit, all hatred for at the age of 29 that much pain of being hospitalized 5 times, drugged, never loved, no wealth or friends you tell me is that fair.

 

 

Chapter 6

The Earth has become a corrupt program that is a jailhouse. Heaven had done something wrong in allowing this place. If I write about a person who knows this what hope does that make for the author of the universe to write a better story. It seems that everything is evil, this whole life at best was about knowing the error of our ways but what is it that he’s done to have to live like this? “All that life has taught me is that I’m not good enough to deserve to be happy but why,” he thinks. “All those friends you never get the pleasure of meeting.” “I wonder if I will have to be killed by someday if I were a snake.” He thinks back to when he found a snake in his boat. “What is it that made me do it?” he says wondering. “Some fear of having to handle it I suppose.” “I don’t know what to say about it, but then what is it about the snake that it in my memory causes such fear?” “They seem to look and move like some sort of hallucination that is why their frightening.” “I don’t mean to pick on misquotes next but some things about life just doesn’t make sense.” “I want to believe there is good but life just seems to be rain and snakes.” “I looked it in the eye and it did not see me as a friend.” “We talked and I think we both knew what was going to happen.” “It wanted to be found and it wanted me to kill it.”   “I have eaten part of the apple and killed the snake and live my days out on Earth trying to believe in a father in Heaven.” “Make the most out of it and try to be self-sufficient is the knowledge I was given.” “I want to make it work with what I got because ultimately that’s all I can do,” he says. The rest must be racial memory. It’s like saying some animals are not good. There must be a price for knowledge of good and evil. The snake has a cosmic nature and influence to it and was somehow brought into creation. He often wonders when he walks down to the river where the next snake will be that took the other’s place. My tree of several that came before it was in to his house where he lives. The ones that came before it didn’t make it, quite a bit of them. This avocado tree is different it was planted by seed and by chance grew and has been moved into it’s bigger planter by the window in the new room of the house. I think he enjoys the tree as it affords him to care for another thing. A lover of things that can be more than things but living things that is apart of this world as well. The trees are all blooming now at least the ones that are alive. Some rain and the greening of the trees that in the past made more of an impression on him. This seems to happen every year but some trees fall or stand dead but the vines don’t seem to care if it grows on something living or dead but seems to favor the living. The day was cold and he was transpiring to the point of karate with trees. Who was it going to be this time? It was number 6 the Jesus tree that was the one who bore his dark secrets in his shadow. If at times they have written of him he is a god or the devil he also was a dead Adam who has eaten some of the apple but knows his mother not. To feel oneself die while living causes new worlds to open up full of mountains and dragons were there is a dark fortress. This dark world be it somehow a place that invites a certain kind of artist to merge with but this soul is at odds with things. He then calls on the dark one with traveling skull carriers that in his dance, theatrics, and fire afforded an audience with him. A simple message he was given with the glowing red smoke in his chamber from the medicine man saying “I want you to be a man,” and then as part of magic reluctantly he began sleeping like a snake while awake” for a prolonged spell. He felt as if he hasn’t slept in over a year with his mind on constant defense and attack he was battling against some hard-core witchcraft for around thirty days before the worst of it was over. Some taste of dread can be recalled when unearthly parasitic organisms caused pain to his body making it impossible to rest. Fighting against sickos has been some of the worst experiences he has ever had the un-pleasure of knowing.

 

 

Chapter 7

A bat has attached itself on the exterior of the new addition of the house. It is this house now that has bats and a skeleton under the garage. He begins to see life in two ways work and play. He is afforded this way to be an artist and get paid regardless to work as a citizen of the United States of America who is mentally disabled. So then how’s that worked out for him? It has been the only ticket to moving out of the house and seeking a job that would be one of those things people would say as a career rather then just something to get by. Having an intellect of art in all its forms takes skill in truly blending reality with fantasy with truth. Bored and somewhat of a sloth he has nothing to lose except that he does. It will get better for him but things take time he is just really sensitive to time and needs to find someone to defend beside himself. He would be the perfect boyfriend for someone because he is a strong person and someone could see that he is a good person and they could defend each other in life. It is time that he finds his space brothers. A house in space and full of stuff that is how he saw the future he finds himself in now. It was either working with monsters in his room that he was locked into or people using other people’s fantasies much like virtual realities to pass the time. The ability to know these couple people was of mixed emotions and it is strange the type of work they do and this writer knows not what he should presume of them. Some sort of halfway house in space for people that have addictions and dependency issues is part of the impression in its lesser form as it may appear. “Not a whole lot to live for is there?” he thinks. He is somewhat disheveled and knows that his mood and self-talk have been things he needs to work on. Animals have some impression on him as do women and he meets the ones that come across his path and short conversations may be had then something else to focus on. Living in the moment is all he can do. It became his inability to rest well that he has lost that side of life he is just constantly on edge. There then comes the moments of gaining progress in being independent. Then there is a work he pays money to do which seems pretty absurd about college. That is the highest point in life he has reached and is so close to another college degree. It’s the constant looking forward to the next moment that makes for misery, but is the hope he gets a life that can be better. There is some more time he has to do in the squalor of his mother’s house and the best he can do is drink coffee in the morning alone on weekdays and work when he can push himself to make art.   Life affords him a lot of time for self-reflection. Others have noted the constant complaining of his life at this time. He knows he is a good person but has a hard time seeing good in anyone else. Just being stuck with art is tough. It could be worse but his depression keeps sinking to new lows. He can’t believe it is normal for him to feel this bad for so long. Last happy memory for him was painting and drinking beer and also using his mind to try to understand the universe better while reading a certain book. There is so much we don’t know that actually makes up our reality besides the choices we get to make along the way. If his biology can be brought to a better feel good level then that has to be his focus. It becomes scary that being happy seems like an illusion to him, but he has faith that he will feel better when he leaves this house and the neighborhood that has defeated him and drove him into despair. Soon he may have his own place and do stuff for himself but he is just so time sensitive and can’t see to many positive things in life. As much as he understands about what’s important in life is good sleep and stress and anxiety management. He remembers while he was in the hospital. The fact that he had one time in the day to take an adivan for a short period of time while he didn’t always take it he then would start to take it after breakfast each day until they would not give him the pill anymore. He would much rather still have the adivan to have then having cigarettes.

 

 

Chapter 8

Why was he the best of us you ask? He was the only one who tried to be a force not entirely of this world. He loved getting high and getting inspired that seemed to be what he was meant to do. His art as it begins to express it’s self more isn’t commercial but deeply personal. The privilege to make art is entirely based on effort put forth. To be able to be a guide for others is now his life’s calling. To have the means of hard work and experience finally allow him a sense of peace is what he deserves. To have a job that one enjoys seems to be what life is all about. What is it that life does to stop him? His own sadness about something perhaps his dark experience not changing enough for once one lives in despair to long it becomes a handicap. The need to remember that he has a life outside of his mother’s house and for eight years of taking happiness suppressing drugs is the problem. Having no serotonin to use to feel a shred of self worth has been horrific treatment. To solve for a person who can get manic at times it is then ok to permanently say he needs to feel like shit instead, is that suppose to be right? I get feeling down temporally some times about things but to feel that way for long periods of time is devastating to soul. I can’t seem to believe getting manic at times warrants this awful treatment. The only difference from the hospital and his mother’s home is that he has internet privileges and is able to smoke cigarettes. It is important in life to control your feelings. It is just cigarettes, beer, and fast food companies that want him to be a loyal consumer it seems. The world doesn’t appreciate him as being anything else. Control your feelings and buy things, how to live for that. I would think for him he can only do those things for so long. Life is interesting when you become able to feel emotions genuinely and splurge on things sometimes. A guy just needs some love sometimes rather than just making everyone else feel good all the time. All his efforts in sharing his music and art on the internet has been just a personal project it really hasn’t gone anywhere. His 2d and 3d art is all he can do with his time when he feels good enough to do it. Other then that it has been trying to stay warm in his mother’s house for the basement is cold all year round. He so far has been at his mother’s house for two years and has completely ran out of things to do for himself there. He has smoking breaks and journaling and watching downloaded shows. He is looking forward to a higher quality life around the corner. One were he gets a sense of independence and progress on goals. He remembered the intense focus he had last time he moved out of the house to be a student again. He made several lists and was on the internet searching for apartments and gathering transcripts making phone calls using all his means available to afford rent and groceries. Then really pushing himself at school getting good grades all while living in apartments that where far too loud for him to rest well. Then one day it was the straw that broke the camels back and he just wasn’t able to stay well adjusted anymore. He was traveling quite a bit going to New York, San Francisco, Yosemite Park, Los Angelis, and Idaho. Then his escapades driving away at night got worse   It is also worth noting that he tried his darndest to meet some girls he was interested in with nothing but wasted effort to show for it. Those two years went fast with all the work he was doing in school and drinking in his spare time. His past two years has moved incredibly slow because I guess you could say that he liked being busy more and taking care of himself much better then not being independent because he enjoyed grocery shopping and cooking and cleaning and relaxing at his own place. It starts to happen to him in October when the weather cools that he begins to have troubles with things. He now needs to have plans put into place that he can handle those things. No more can he deal with certain family members around those times. I don’t know about living in a van at a walmart parking lot but some backup plan would be nice. I don’t think that will be something he would consider because the stupid rule of not being able to have a savings more then two thousand dollars means that would do no good. The ability for him to budget and have money to save would be good. Access to school loans may do a lot of good, but he will have 2 months living in his apartment before school starts and a road trip so that makes things real hard to start out with finding any money to use. Four hundred fifty dollars he’ll have and he might need one thousand two hundred and thirty and hope he doesn’t need more for last month’s rent but who knows. Life is giving him another shot. To have his own space to operate in and to study and relax and focus more on goals will be nice to have again. The most important thing is to never live back at his mom’s if at all possible. To get a job and start to have a savings is now his obsession in life. What kind of work can he do with a bachelor’s degree there has got to be something? The hospital and banking and college industries are huge but he would rather work at a liquor store or something. He is torn on the subject of having a saving because he never really ever built one up before. The best thing he’s done is pay off his credit card once. Maybe just living extremely cheap until all his desired schooling is over may be best for complete focus on a career. 2018 have a bachelors and start a masters degree in 2019 for two years and prove he’s worked in the art mediums.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 9

Calling people up and going for walks, beer, tobacco, and guitar practice with some effort on art and to chill the fuck out for he is so anxious all the time about his interactions with people. He calls her hoping not to be foolish but in a loving way of wanting a friend. She is nice enough to text back that she is at work and is sorry she can’t talk. She had said that he can always text her and he should focus on how nice it is to have that chance to be in communication with her. The king of nothing is in ways happy but would like to be a person who can call on others to set up his work. A list of materials needed and a space to create full time would be amazing. So many sidetracks from actually doing the work. The production of work could double or triple maybe as things get arranged. How do you deal with life is every ones task. The artist who can live in his own place by his benefits then take on more work as the threshold is built up for it. A production of work for parts of the day with several projects to work between and the assembly processes more familiar. It would be awesome to be a productive artist other then the little time he does such works. Art is expensive to make and takes a methodical mind to ever get anywhere with it. His playing ability on the guitar has been improved as he can practice little songs he puts together then sings them on guitar while recording video. What has been funny about life for him is that he finds some of the most fulfilling experiences are when he dreams. There is no doubt some forces that connect with his mind to make him feel good give him some mercy to guide him though the mystery behind dreams for him that is the only sign that there is good somewhere out there. How life has always been and what he wants gives him a shred of hope that there are still options for him. He will be moving into the best part of his life that is still ahead of him. He like anyone else will have to learn how to have a good time with himself. It has always been about making oneself happy that isn’t easy but is the driving force in life, and what does one give up on pursuit of happiness you might ask. It is the things that prevent one from attaining happiness. To love yourself is to do anything for yourself to feel better. A plan is in motion and the sheets need to be cleaned. The beard is only a distraction much like most things in life. The true aim is to be in control of ones own happiness with some pretending if need be at times. One thing remains for him that he try again to fix what has been a broken part of himself. That be all that need be said about it at the moment is that he is going to do something for himself to try to feel better. Until then the basics of phone calls and follow through. His first apartment set up was a family pain like how he drove three hours to look around the Moorhead looking for apartments. He had to borrow his dad’s car and make a list from signs for open apartments. Then rent a u-haul and drive there with family. The whole trip with interactions with his brother whom has always pissed him off was no different that day. Moving is not that fun but the idea of being moved out is supposed to lift the spirits. His up coming move is his sixth apartment he will be moved into. The days that were worst was after his breakdown at college the complete breaking of the spirit while he pushed through summer school to get his associates degree he then lived at home for four years and lived like a mother’s boy who was just running away from having any responsibility. Reading over fifteen books and playing over fifteen video games if not more than those amounts he also worked a total of three different jobs during those years and was a regular jogger. Let’s just say he must of handled it fairly well due to his younger age.  I would have to presume for now spending time seems much worse, and if he is now to old to settle for that hermit living and the dead end jobs. Now the calling of affirmation of life that has been heard by seeing himself in her the one who was like him at twenty three all emotionally stressed out that the mind needed to be burdened with reality. The mind was young before and could privately take care of it’s self, but now he feels the need to fit in more and be integrated into society. I would say of him that he is not an alcoholic but one who would much rather drink in his off time most certainly. Spending time is tricky finding the art that one can find as a form of truth to prolong young age to confident man who has date money. So the parties that he had been apart or heard of the way to be a young man. Gasoline and fire and ninja turtles to the neighborhood being parked full to whatever beer could offer. He can give up cigarettes but not beer for to long and the childish need to be pacified never ends. A chance for someone to drink on a Sunday how strange for living is cursed to need pacification to not be burdened with the blank space. For what work has this writer done but to give the reader a real honest perspective of a soul that has had a commodity of misery. He has had a good eighteen years and then a rocky eleven years after that. The balance between child and adult is the difference between art and science, king of nothing and cyber empires, cosmic nature and mother nature, and not quite half a life being more bad then good. The house has overwhelmed him and life defeated him he wakes in the morning with everything abandoning him leaving him forsook of a peaceful mind. He is left with one safe area and that is his bed that he had put a magical triangle around. The rest of the house is taken over by restless spirits that like to torment his mind. For his best work has to be from sleep and going out of body to see the spirit world and long behold there is a spirit in this house who is female and most think the house belongs to her, wanting some one to make feel as miserable as she must be. Other than that there are guy pals who fear him because they are taught to for some reason probably how everything looks on paper claiming him a time bomb and bound to end up in the hospital. It has always been the house that has driven him insane and the way he gets fed up with people. Emotional distress is one thing but evil and cruelty is a completely different monster of the world.

 

Chapter 10

It just seems to be getting worse as I write about his story. Each thing about him leads to a troubling truth about lies he believes. I will always be a writer of truth, but perhaps writing of the soul has me concerned if it will ever be at piece for it wails in hidden pain prolonged for too long he needs to seek peace. The time is short. He has made a lot of time pass. He is a normal person who likes to have peace. It’s good that he has another shot at peace from this house. When he first had an apartment to himself it was clear he could take care of himself. His dad was always pressuring him to make money while he was in school and so he started making some money as a delivery driver. His grades weren’t great that year but he tried to enjoy using his space to be a comfortable place to live. He at that time was still obsessed about pot and gave up a lot to that pursuit. His hair was grown out long and he would do his own haircuts. He was reasonably happy and doing reasonably well over all. His next year in college was different he moved into a house with a roommate. He lasted as long as he could with the way of things but could not handle the fact that his roommate had a girlfriend stay at the place so much it drove him mad. He then thought that he should go to the clinic and ask for help with his anxiety. He then got a prescription for Zoloft and he now had adopted a dog that he wasn’t probably fit to have. He was doing so many things painting, 3d art, drinking, smoking, and even driving all the way to Minneapolis, and St. Paul and on his way he stopped to tape up art at gas stations then in school hallways and began dressing himself real poorly. Then the great escape from Moorhead took place he went to paint studio class and sat down with someone else’s painting and tossed some cleaning powder on it then made some paint marks on it and left all while he had been counting fifteen minutes in his head while he had his truck parked in the back of the loading area then preceded on a plan to drive to Duluth. He had awoke that day with a plan to rent a hotel room in Duluth and see a girl who he had called up after seeing recently. He needed wine and condoms. He got the condoms then drove then to a liquor store god knows were. He at this point thought he was Jesus and that he should not have to wait in line and said he was going to walk out of the liquor store. He punched an old man who wanted to stop him then the cops were called. He then was brought to his brother’s house and this time thought it was the ending of the world and missiles were being fired into enemy countries. He had no inhibitions and didn’t know right from wrong. At a high point in conversation he began talking about the universe and said, “Good is good” and felt that he was uttering a tremendous truth. He went out side and through a stick in the air and was convinced it disappeared. He then had the idea to take a shovel and strike the dogs neck with the thought that he would be killing it. His brother now got him into the car and drove him to the hospital and all the while he was trying to remember license plate numbers on his way there. He remembered everything but was in a state of drug-induced psychosis. There was more details that have been left out but he was not mentally controlling his emotions if he had the thought or the impression he would act on it instantly and was extremely impulsive and suggestible. This all would end up being an extremely embarrassing experience that he would reflect on nightly as he lay in bed after he became stabilized for months to come. In the telling of his stories he seems to build up enough energy to the point he breaks down then needs to rebuild. The severity of his mental illness is largely denied for he gets emotional at times then runs out of options. All the hope there is he can find meaning in his life and have some self-esteem. What about the few times he believed he had teleported in his car driving at night some how covering distances he can’t remember driving. What about feeling that he had someone trying to make love to him who was invisible. What about all the times he has cried about his own life so will the universe or God give him something to live for at all times, or does he have to settle for anxious loneliness more than he can bear? It’s like being on a plane most the time waiting to arrive at the destination for him just like anyone else that can admit that. It is better to love life by not taking medication truly that is his only excuse. The story has gone on for five months and one more to go still. This writer is one of the most helpful things for him to understand his mind. The mind this writer has is just as troubled as the soul it describes. The intellect and soul have to work together with any anonymous beings to afford a better quality life. I have been scrambling to find out the nature of his soul but to know my mind is what is entirely embarrassing to not have been as strong as the soul who endures so much now it is the mind of mine that is suffering. It seems I have some regrets for the innocents my mind possesses. I was to slow to get the big picture when I should of known I would be secluded in this house and worse in this bed for all the signs were there. I might of made it past one winter here but I thought the art interest would sustain me but it can’t. I should have had a stash of weed for these low occasions I could have tried to have had that available but lost contact with any weed dealers making for this to be some real hard time. I have let down my life by not understanding the way of the world and my true nature. I have been physically active plenty over the years and emotional and spiritually, but my mental and social skills have been slow to work for my happiness. I’m not sure that I’m supposed to have all of life figured out but smarts is all about taking advantage of what you have. Living this way has been horrible. What am I going to do about it? I can tell you his nature was he was a pothead. Does he need to reinvent himself or is that his mental and social solution. The pros are there but it’s illegal and that is the main source of the paranoia. Drinking and smoking weed have made him happy and that is where he left off before this whole mental illness thing that mainly stems from coming from a poor family. It comes down to work and play and mostly I have been doing jail time so that’s neither. He is fine. I need to get my life balanced between work and play so now it is I and now it is we intellect and soul.

 

Chapter 11

The anxiousness before a move is starting to present itself. Seven days tell he can move a bed into a new apartment. Sort out all his belongings and start into his way of budgeting money. He goes around the house for hours marching around saying all the things he’ll need to do. Organizing his things and chain smoking cigarettes. Thinking he should leave most traces of his time there behind him. Leaving some artwork mostly as he cannot move most of the projects he has. As he goes out to smoke so frequently there is a couple crows that have been doing calls for the past couple days like his friends maybe communicating good bye. Making time for his friend he is got to get that over with for his wedding then look for some part time work. He might be only be prepared to sleep at his apartment with a bed but plans to pack some clothes and pots and pans and dishes and silverware. My intellect is going crazy with anxiousness to get moved out and things put in place. All that smoking has given me a nicotine buzz. It is late afternoon I did the best I could to calm down and get into resting mode. All this energy has been lying dormant and I’ve been doing my best it seems to suppress it. The mind is hard to find peace and I wonder what that actually is. I am so happy my plans are starting to take shape that seems to be my biggest concern,  but to be wise and calm and bide my time like this has taken a great lot of patience. We have to make things work, my intellect and soul that we take care of this life of ours. Everything that seems to be in a state of blah can be transcended in some sort of fashion. It seems like waiting for a vacation like everyone else that is what spring break taught me in high school my favorite experience I’ve had. It was a lot of planning and preparation then an enjoyable adventure that was earned from the work of being a senior in high school when my friend and I road tripped to Florida for a week. Having a partner to plan things with and organize is very important. Some of the shit we got away with back then was amazing and with all the puking aside I don’t regret it. Both my friend and I had made it to our reserved campsite at St. Joseph Park on the bay side of Florida. We decided to smoke some of our weed we brought and had bought I think for sixty-five dollars, some of the best weed I’ve ever had. We smoked the whole blunt and ran a bunch around on the beach and talked to a tree and were having a blast. wwe ate a hamburger potato carrot and onion tinfoil dinner and before night fall I was puking in the woods and only on rare occasions have I ever got sick from just smoking weed and this was one of those times and I had to be dragged back into the van to sleep that night. On another note he got his first kiss with a girl at a dance club. She initiated it and had beer on her breath but she was attractive and it just felt weird but he had a good time. Yes it like being old thinking about the past and how it had some good in it. As for her she was into partying as well. She played softball and would drink and smoke weed in high school and that would lead her to promiscuous behavior. She felt that it was some of being young and dumb getting into those situations. She would admit she has binged drank and thought that at times it could be a problem. It was after high school she became committed to her boyfriend and eventually wanted to go to school in California she didn’t stay there long but had a lot of fun with the women’s soft ball team. After college she got in a rut somehow with some sort of lifestyle concerns. She became impressionable about certain celebrities and expressing herself. She believed in hidden messages that existed in music, movies, and TV. So she had the energy build up and all it takes is being around people to notice and her parents started to intervene and the fight was never taken out of her like it was in some way for him. I mean a fight to get through the crap. I have to do it too. Just the Cyber Empire that is the Internet to redeem time spent, but only for the socially inept one to get a shot. Is that the modern age of having an identity posting pictures and videos. For the longest time he had not thought much of Internet relativity mostly just used for some none promotional use. This was the days before the smart phone and the most popular thing among his peer group was gaining a friend count on Facebook but that is so stupid and he never felt at ease about the fakeness of it, but the way of the world is to advertise of promote one’s self. Gaining views or likes and having followers is complete rubbish but it is what’s available for people to do. It is almost like an art trying to cater to what people want to see in others by doing it yourself setting the example. Set the stage and take the tickets so to speak. It all cost so much but it’s free at the same time. A lot of people get to decide what reality is and that is what they choose to see and use the Internet as. It is a Cyber Empire and a platform for people to spray their message or narcissism or how else can one think their better then everybody else. Mostly a computer is meant to communicate information, but what can a human need to communicate using the Internet that they can’t do in person or on the phone? It makes us all look at screens to try to feel somehow accepted and liked. It’s as if reality exists mostly on the screens and talking lovingly in person is the illusion. Why is it necessary to whore ones self on the Internet. It must be the preferred way of information sharing today. I can’t actually meet a girl in real life but I can if I’m lucky communicate to one for online messaging. What is there to say and what is the point I share music and art images and sometimes rants about my personal opinions.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 12

I’m afraid some nights evil surrounds him, and he has that restless feeling that his body’s nervous system goes crazy. The best he can do to calm down is to lie on his belly and try not to squirm. It almost like there is some chanting or mumbling of a voice in the night inaudible but at short times very real. All this because he use to drink gin and get drunk then would communicate with the fairy world. He could live at home back then when he would buy Hendricks gin with pistachios and go about his leisure. This is the only alcoholic drink he got close to blacking out on. Some times he would drink too much lay in bed drunk then puke to the side of the bed. His history with alcohol has been troubling as he sometimes drinks to oblivion and seems to try to destroy himself. Beer mostly has became his drink of choice and he had found some wine he use to like to drink a lot but the spiritual side of it makes him clumsy and a fool. He feels good at his own place when there’s a pack of beer in the fridge and a bottle of wine handy with a kitchen stocked with food. He has made fifteen months with out drinking as probably some of the longest time since he was of age. He wants to prove he has a life to certain women he now has the privilege to communicate with. He is not use to having friends for quite a long time now and does not know why he has solitude so much. It is the times of solitude that he can grow in his thinking then show others that he is evolving himself. He had done a lot of little things in life so far and needs to understand that he has to remove himself from bad situations and that for him is clearly his mother and his brother. Life becomes finding people who are either with him or not in such barbaric terms. He can’t let dangerous people set him off. They will worsen his life. He was drunk around his mother and brother too much.

“Murky Mysticism”

~Note, this is a message of unclear statements best suited for those that can handle uncomfortable ideas about human experience. Do not continue to read if psychologically burdened.

I have so much confusion and uncertainty in my life. I can’t really believe anything anymore.  All of us that have this condition and are unhappy with our conclusions that for a span of years we are living in question with an existence problem, then we die.  The living question is why do we exist, and the existence problem is what we have to do.  Did some sort of supreme consciousness bring matter into existence to use us to teach about something, some supreme lesson?  How is the existential meaning of life thereby affect us to give life meaning without habitually playing some sort of make-believe?  The law of conservation of mass states that matter is neither created nor destroyed.  We’ve been recycled, but a supreme consciousness may be seen as being space surrounding matter in the universe.  Our mind is related of matter the same as the mind is part of the body.  How then is it possible to correspond to anything that is virtual, not real?

The lack of true understanding leads us to have to make things up all the time and there are a lot of people out there willing to do that. The simple joys of being lost in space.  Depending on who you are that may or may not bother you.  How I image space is to be the ultimate peace.  There are things that look good on paper or sound good in your head, like good is good, and I’m an idiot not a moron, but to assert that you have to make sure you have no idea what you are saying.  Those are some of the most mystical experiences to share in.  That we all don’t know what we are doing.