is it even a question?
by who?
for what?
what don't you understand?
how simple does this gotta be?
etc.
you scroll through the pictures and don't read a word.
how can you possibly know or even understand?
do we know and/or understand?
that's what we're trying to determine, if we can or not.
the clown gets some red grapes and more coffee.
he wonders where everything comes from that is consumed by 7+ billion of us fuckers.
that doesn't seem quite right, or is it?
what do you think about it?
do you think?
prove it.
and a few days later -
and a day after that -
not always much to write.
probably for the best for all concerned.
who knows?
who cares?
we don't.
caring about shit is for losers.
you wanna succeed then don't care about nothing but yourself and all you can gain by any means.
that's how it all works.
but you probably already know.
but do you understand?
peanut butter on dark rye and cranberry juice - a toke.
guy mowing the lawn against being forbidden by the clown's religion beliefs caught in the act of becoming true/false redundant improbability paradox like nearly everything else we can think of off hand at this place and time.
do you remember?
but this forbidden prohibition is for and/or against many social rules of philosophy, politics, art, etc. on and on into the void that ultimately surrounds us within and without and things like that.
as you ignore what you are perceiving if you took a greater effort.
your eye is closed against it cuz of your fears regarding that which you will not name.
name it gazorbnik for all it matters.
believe what you will about anything and whatever else there could be than that.
what is it?
only you may tell us what you are thinking here now.
we share a place and time no matter the miles and days we may seem to being apart.
this is obvious to one who thinks a certain way from what is expected.
pathless paths in and out of reality your minds invent.
dive and swim, leap and fly.
just another pig in the wall - oink oink yahoo.
awaken if you can.
even if you are awakened you can always awaken some more.
do you think it ever reaches an end?
and last but not least, kiss it all away.
it never was never is never will be.
crazy as fuck, baby.
the clown took the wrong turn before he knew it was happening.
but the wrong way turned out to be the right way as it would seem.
how does he know?
he knows only nothing.
inside his head is darkness with a light burning bright for all to see with one eye open one eye closed if you want to, but it's a trick - don't get fooled again.
you can be snakes in the grass.
no one knows where you go.
stories told to children to make them laugh out loud at night.
the next day -
awakening.
it's medication time.
11:11
all's well that ends well - sorta.
people sticking the clown with labels.
he looks at them and he's supposed to be this or supposed to be that or supposed to be the other thing.
and that is how he is treated by what people think he is.
that is how he makes his way through it.
nothing will ever change with them.
will anything ever change with him?
he doubts it except it's changing all the time whether he notices it or not.
it maintains an illusion of continuity and sameness.
but we know better from our understanding.
it's simple.
you don't need a graduate degree to think.
or do you?
who cares?
we'll think anyway.
the clown farts and it's a real stinker.
he has to walk away from it.
he returns and continues typing not p0em for the zillionth time.
we are manipulated from day 1.
who can trust anything is real?
we don't, nor should you if you know what's good for you.
the clown is glad he doesn't work around other people but is alone.
he can fart without worry.
others would know it was him all the time since his farts make a generous noise and an awful stench.
the clown was raised with more than his share of privilege (the buzzword for the day).
he blindly goes through his life not paying much attention.
why should he need to?
there's always someone something showing him the way.
he dreams better dreams than this.
transformation transforming every moment that can be.
people with heads in a game.
nevermind everything else.
what else matters?
euthanize those who who are disabled and cannot work.
why should we support them?
lovely flowers and butterflies and humming bees in a garden of love that radiates from a god thing as we imagine it.
always a beautiful day rain or shine all the time.
we forget as we remember.
tomorrow -
awakening.
more coffee, another toke.
medication time.
the clown isn't sure what to do right away with his remaining time here now on earth.
the universe is in motion.
we are traveling spinning through time.
the universe could be a clock, a pocket watch for a god.
or not.
there is always that possibility.
anything could be wrong.
or not.
strange power envelopes him within giving him new levels of understanding at once if possible though improbable to our current beliefs.
he turns around thrice widdershins as the witches do.
he turns a spell and casts it sideways to itself.
he has no idea.
he tries to keep it that way.
no expectations.
a guy with a white car when he used to drive a red car drives by the window the clown is gazing through out of.
it's all part of the magick.
change reality.
but the clown is fine where when he is here now as it were.
what could be more delightful?
what is true and what is false?
what?
to be continued...
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