In Praise of Incompleteness

The furor over nothing consumes most humans constantly. Obsessed with desire and fear, entities psychically thrash about with little regard for cause and effect. So often, in this state of frenzied misdirection, damaging themselves as well as others nearby. Some even see their morass of confusion as some kind of normalcy! This is usually a result of being completely out of tune with nature and their own body/mind/soul. An unfortunate circumstance, at best, and downright evil, at it worst.

Souls in the know choose peace, love and understanding in the truest sense of each word. Acceptance and compassion are also integrated into a healthy psychological pattern that promotes unity over imbalance. However, it is pretty much a given that anyone lucky or smart enough to achieve this kind of satori, will eventually throw themselves back into the above mentioned foray as they realize that to be human is to be an non-evolved moron that needs to be dragged into the uncompromising light of truth. This is far more difficult than it may appear.

Resurfacing reality

Finding meaning in the whirlpool of time passing is an exercise in futility, yet it is our nature. The establishment of reason goes beyond mere survival. Our ability to grasp abstract concepts and apply them in a functional manner has proven to be both a blessing and a curse, depending on one's sense of propriety. As with most experiences, the interpretation of information is rather open-ended, so there is a tendency to see what one wishes to see in a given situation. Why one would wish to see things other than as they are is a matter for debate, but one's ability to do so is not in question.

The only real mirror is in the mind
Reflecting the essence of darkness and light
That which is separate is that which binds
And what one expects is just what one finds

Writhing Under A Velcro Sky

Makeshift analysis produces the usual catalog of errors, but there is little evidence available indicating a better procedure. Information is plentiful, but the proper associations across a wide variety of contexts could prove helpful in our current situation. But what to dream? The universe expands inwardly as well as outwardly from our zero point awareness, thus there are two paths one can experience in such transitions. Imagination races in reflection of future fantasies enacted, and yet one's very obliteration lies within these dramatizations, unbeknowst to the players. Still, a fabulous display of unity fragmenting.

Battlecry of the Easily Distracted

Presence fulfills while we sort out the details in this drama unwinding wildly before us now. No amount of wackiness can resist expression in the aforementioned tumult. This explains a lot, and yet leaves room for quirky conspiracy theories and the miscreants who celebrate them. The edges of lunacy are not defined by their bizarre nature as much as their lack of sanity. Granted, we have landed squarely in a clearly defined place and time, with a limited range of options and rather sketchy instructions as far as ultimate goals are concerned. Nonetheless, enriched by little more than faith, we stride into realms unknown while blowing our little horn of freedom.


I can't cry away the sadness
Locked inside my heart
It's just the usual madness
That tears me apart
There is no why to address
No reason to believe
Life is any more than a mess
We give and receive

I can't wipe away the memory
Of love and it's demise
Though I try to so hard to bury
All the dreams that went awry
There's no sense in regret
Yet I find myself sometimes
Wishing that we never met
Or to look into your eyes

I can't say I've made mistakes
When all paths lead to God
Bad times and lucky breaks
Are just part of growing up
Some say for goodness sake
We find a way to understand
That it's only love we make
But it's not at our command

This Life Is Being Monitored for Quality Assurance

Terra firma giganticus mon frere. I turn the world with each step I take, each footfall unfolds the unique rhythm of my path. Distance and time chase each other's tail creating the sparkling wonder that is the ever-churning galaxy before me now. Swirling deep into the substructure of material existence, our motives become both obvious and obscure, and ultimately meaningless against an infinite universe expanding. And yet we continue, never really knowing if we are the pinnacle of organic manifestation realized or a merely loose shavings on God's workshop floor. Oddly enough, the tyranny of doubt assails only those whom have already opened the door of enlightenment.

Somewhere in the center of nothing
Everything has suddenly arrived
If you care to share in it's unfolding
Hold this moment in your mind

Sometime is the future of memory
Somewhere between now and then
We always find what we're looking for
So, it's only a matter of when

"The distrust of wit is the beginning of tyranny".
- Edward Abbey

Damn Faint Praise for that Matter

Scrambling in minor madness we act and react endlessly. Time allows us to stir our memory and unfold seamlessly, or so it seems. What stark reality lurks hidden from our hearts, either by accident or choice? Wisdom a small comfort in such imaginings, and truth be known, there is as much there as you wish to have.

I turn my eyes toward the light always
But I'm not afraid of the dark
I've learned in spite of my mistakes
To make a flame from a spark

I live with hope in my heart always
But I'm not afraid to be sad
There are good and bad days
But what a time is had

I remember that I am always
Looking for something more
That will alarm or amaze me
Isn't that what life is for?

"Were I so tall to reach the pole,
Or grasp the ocean with my span,
I must be measured by my soul:
The mind ’s the standard of the man"
- Isaac Watts

A kiss is a collision of vulnerabilities

Beyond all understanding remains the realm of human emotional necessity. Although exhilarating in its own inimitable fashion, this condition tends to address the symptoms of dealing with the everyday madness of life , rather than the disease itself ( which strangely enough, would be madness). Our longing for more whatnot/whatever ASAP might seem at first rather infantile, but upon deeper scrutiny, we see that an individual's emotional flux pattern is intrinsic to the valuation process that has complex links to our very survival mechanism. Which clearly indicates why party people... like to party!

Captured Spew As A Bio-Efficient Fuel

Seemingly natural, these activities may be hazardous to spiritual growth, if that is indeed an end rather than a process. All too often substance is misdiagnosed as some kind of aberrant phenomenon, whilst the true flukes run about wildly as though their antics were normal! But perhaps it is for the best, as one of the nicer aspects of nirvana is that it is not very crowded.

What wonder awaits
After slumber takes
My soul across space and time

The dreams I make
Are there to forsake
Or hold close and call mine

In this nameless place
There is no waste
All is perfectly fine

Our lives are a taste
Of a power so great
But it's all in the mind


"Now, now, you stars, that move in your right spheres,
Where be your powers? Show now your mended faiths,
And instantly return with me again"
-Shakespeare, King John

Marketing God

Reality continues to flex and churn through time automatically, or so it seems to this casual observer. The nature of validity also spins and toils deep in the recesses of our conscious-mess
we call sentiency. This aspect of our awareness, this sense of value to our being and/or actions would seem to be at the crux of what becomes our experience. Certainly the decisions we make, no matter how small, are intentional and the circumstances they engage are determined in large part, if not wholly, by our desire to act in a manner reflecting the value we apply to a given activity. Therefore, whatever happiness can be achieved in the course of human events is usually the product of someone pulling themselves through time toward the desired moment when what one desires is the case. Our thoughts and actions feed into threads of energy that weave the future from the billions of desires that are created every moment by us. Fulfillment would seem rather fleeting in this scenario, but strangely enough, true fulfillment comes not by acquisition, but dispensation.


Wove among more thoughtful dreams
Are the hidden seams of wisdom
Hard-fought things that can't be seen
Without the vision that such gives them

Welcome To My Wild Hair

Suddenly the same and ever more so thereafter, what I seek unknown is unfathomable at best. Yet, strive I, whether hope or madness drives my dreams. The tattered banners of youthful folly display their faded glory still, even as the sun sets before my eyes. Each day I rise to find my life has been conveniently prepared for my particular brand of commitment. Vary routines as I will, there is still an underlying sense of predeterminism. The processes involved in experiencing my future memories in a mentally digestible fashion requires limiting one's sphere of involvement insofaroutas possible under the circumstances. The development of this ability allows one to focus an experience in a manner that makes up for with intensity what it may lack in breadth. This may not alleviate entropy, but it sure can drag out the whole shebang.

Do What Thou Wilt Shall Be A Hole In The Wall

Zwingle notwithstanding, I'm pretty urge-oriented theseaboutdays. Oh, pickle me a heaven tomorrow, mister sister, let's snark in the dark 2nite! The mushmashers and buzzaddicts can hamster til the Big Reboot, but ya won't find me tiddley-twaddling my everlasting gobstopper on Judgement Afternoon. "Focus!" is my battle cry each day as I assault the world with my petty needs and desires. Carefully trained in Strategic Denial I am! Ahhhhh...yi! Grrr...YAH! Observe how each motion I make exactly fills the space it encompasses. In time, you will understand how the subatomic structure manifesting before you now as this is completely unavoidable, but can be altered to suit one's preferences. Until then, the mad sufferings of the physical form will assail you in the usual fashion, strategic denial aside, your body will decay. But let's not dwell on inevitable remorse, but rather celebrate in this glorious moment wherein we can fully express our nimble neurons playing.

What's worth forgetting
Is ourselves letting
Our hellbent tendencies take hold
It's unrelenting
There's no preventing
All things when dreams take control

With each sun setting
Desire and regretting
Let's just say all bets are on hold
We're always testing
The last worst we're besting
So let the games unfold

There just no suppressing
The lesson we're wresting
From when believe what we're told
There's no second guessing
When the truth is undressing
It never needs to be sold


A fly bit the bare pate of a bald man, who in endeavouring to crush it gave himself a hard slap. Then said the fly jeeringly, “You wanted to revenge the sting of a tiny insect with death; what will you do to yourself, who have added insult to injury?”
- Phaedrus

Dog-Eat-Dog VS "We Are The World"

The mechanics of deconstructing ingrained behaviors without disrupting established boundaries can prove challenging. The very nature of this examination is predefined by a growing, if not pervasive discomfort with the current status in quo. Yet, this is not a revolution, rather an expansion of ideas and actions that do not necessarily support, and in many cases seek to change, what one has been taught to perceive as normal.

The elation of discovering that things are NOT as they seem is pretty well balanced by the onslaught of energies constantly reinforcing their own agendas. Only by removing negative influences can one truly assess their effect, and possibly have choice over subconscious or even mindless submission.

Once we know truth, we can only ALLOW ourselves to be misled. It is every individual's responsibility to understand how their participation in the world creates whatever positive or negative circumstances they live in. No one needs a cellphone, car, or a computer. One only WANTS these items to properly compete in the game that we're being told is 'reality'. It is only a reality, and not a very enjoyable one for most involved, if you include raw materials, labor, and distribution factors.

One does not need to pursue this thinking extensively before it becomes plain that every desire has a cost. The choice then becomes a matter of degrees insofar as X-level of suffering is acceptable in exchange for X-level of pleasure. Because this transaction's ramifications extend far beyond the perceptions of our silly human flab, it is an exercise in simple misdirection to distract hungry little hippos for one's own ends. Strangely enough, whatever forces wish to use such techniques probably understand the nature of their situation, so it would seem apparent that they would understand the futility of their ambition.

They say "love is blind". I say everything but love is blind.

A perfect thing
Has never been
As I can recall
At best guess
It's an exception
That defines all

"While fancy, like the finger of a clock,
Runs the great circuit, and is still at home."
William Cowper (1731–1800)

Splaying truth against better judgement

Another witless witness to what not and in between. Thus I forage my existence in an attempt at successfully communicating my dire plight. Focusing on the positive, the struggle to achieve ANYTHING is somewhat admirable in and of itself, if one has the empathy to comprehend such virtues. Like red hot vomit rolling down the avenue, time splatters forward in a great gush of the past cascading in all directions not yet beknownst. What words can I cry to validate that which is so much more than I can ever be? Like a kitten mewing inside the cupboard in feigned anguish, my percieved situation is further beyond trivial than I can possibly imagine. Yet I participate completely, a dufus in a tsunami of me own regurgitated experiences.

The beauty of perfect love

Is always out of reach

Like the freedom of a dove

It's the nature of the beast

Everything that is to come

And all that came to cease

Is exactly what we're made of

Thus the greatest is the least

"Time softly there

Laughs through the abyss of radiance with the gods."

-William Vaughn Moody. (1869–1910)

Toil and Spin

This upheaval presents consequence beyond human understanding, and yet we strive so to grasp meaning among the celestial entities. Essentially, it becomes one soul to recognize the futility of incarnation, and yet be in the world. It is a marvelous performance of immense intensity that never fails to explain nothing. Still, as a dramatization of actual events, it is one of the best. As with most dreams of love unending, facing adversity only foments the an already egregious theme. What wisdom could possibly supplant this cojangulation of fluid and tissue in motion? And exactly what is real for how long?

Gently let the world just be
Between time and space
Let these unfurl before thee
All things fall into place

Although it may seem real
An illusion has no substance
But what it makes one feel
Is a bit akin to romance

Remembering the now
Is a never ending chore
But that's why and how
A body and soul are for

" ’T were all one
That I should love a bright particular star,
And think to wed it."
-William Shakespeare (1564–1616) All ’s Well that Ends Well. Act i. Sc. 1.

Amidst fragments of unity Am I

The quality of an experience is measured by that which preceeds it. A thorough and intimate knowlege may pervade our strange interpretations, but in explaining such our presentation becomes focal rather than the matter at hand. Some drama is to be expected in this rough exchange, and lordy-lord knoweth man all too well to tell us to understand otherwise. Ideally, recogniton of indulgency would seemingly lead to corrective action, but where's the fun in that? Admiration invites critique, as flies to wanton boys go.

Finding meaning in a dream
From which we wake suddenly
Time is about the only thing
That can be taken, seriously.

Art is long, life is short.
—Goethe
Hippocrates is supposed to have originated this saying which is better known in Latin
"Ars longa, vita brevis est."

Absolute Perfection Disclaimer

For infinite complexity, one can do no better than our present condition. The eternal strands of time and subatomic pattern cross referencing usually result in copious amounts of 'how the hell did I get myself into this?" occuring. Relaxing in the everlasting sunshine of the God's sweet love may SEEM the order of any given day, but somehow we ended up HERE. Ever one seeking to improve immediate conditions, our natural tendency is to bend form to our will. Of course, this is really approaching the problem backwards, but in such cases, ANY attempt to rectify the current situation is better than wallowing in the syrup of ignorance. Thus, somehow we sense a greater purpose to our temporal existence when we assign the absolute grandeur of mankind's outlandish attempt to control anything BUT our voracious appetites.

On the way to heaven
I found myself again
That's where I discovered
You're either out or in
Happiness without measure
Pleasure without sin
Always is when to treasure
From beginning to end


What majesty should be, what duty is,
Why day is day, night night, and time is time,
Were nothing but to waste night, day, and time;
Therefore, since brevity is the soul of wit
And tediousness the limbs and outward flourishes,
I will be brief. Your noble son is mad. Mad call I it;
for, to define true madness, What is ’t but to be nothing else but mad?
-Polonius, Hamlet

Punishingly Erudite Observation, art fart and a bit of wisdom

Zark! Snoofles blartingly eplogged with farga-gollies. Nemospheres asiding, prussing nukles splurts in xaxomatic durrunge. Zlop!

So, as we can clearly see, transdimensional mutant absorption only leads to bineural shifts in the time/space perceptors that facilitate an absolutely noodlicious universe.

What of this love so dear?

We've agreed to be near

Have a laugh and shed a tear

Sharing hope and fighting fear

Each moment, day, and year

Thus the answer becomes clear

" Love truth, but pardon error."
François Marie Arouet de Voltaire (1694–1778)

Another Reality Is Actually Not Necessarily Alien

So rare that we succeed with both need and desire harmoniously intertwined as they unfold a delicate equilibrium. To dream is to live incomplete, yet in fulfillment's promise a path becomes part of the whole. The reign of time falls aside for those who step into wonder and appreciation everyday. What lies beyond our reach? Only what we've forgotten.

. . .

we share time

to find ourselves

happily surprised

. . .

"To-day, whatever may annoy,The word for me is Joy, just simple Joy. "

-John Kendrick Bangs (1862–1922)

Permission to Squeak

Sporadic fracas ignite wild imaginings with little or no basis for their cyclic frothing. While disturbingly amusing at first, in the long haul their antics become common as shower scum and as tolerable, depending on one's standards of cleanliness. Yet, as awkwardly strained as this relationship becomes, it remains an intrinsic phase in growth pattern that leads to whatever the fuck is going on.

Stir not those caught in gentle dreaming
Awakening isn't for everyone
One ought to stop and gather meaning
Before we face the rising sun


"Heaven hears and pities hapless men like me,
For sacred ev’n to gods is misery".
Alexander Pope (1688–1744) The Odyssey of Homer

That Which DEMANDS to be ignored

For what disturbed purpose do these vague creatures lurk? Or is it merely my own gnarled intentions that cloak innocence with rumour for reasons less known? Fie! I spat at this ghastly introspection and assert the previous assumed lack of moral compass inherent in such dull beasts. Tis pity to hate pity when such serves the extension of said suffering. Thus, it becomes love to destroy that which creates love's opportunity to do such, and tail has never tasted so ironic.

I run
from shadow to sun
one step at a time
I find my way home

The faster I go
the further it seems
It is as though
I live in a dream

I run
from square one to done
The taking of time
Makes it my own


“I try to leave out the parts that people skip.” (Elmore Leonard — novelist)

Official Sanctions for Hero Substitutes

The business of pleasure can confound as well as illuminate. What joyous rapture beckons against this facade of endless suffering? Like some mysterious elixer of yore, the tides of desire whet the shores of our fondest dreams. Longing becomes our kind, for in striving we find a value relatively non existant in perfect acceptance. Mindless blathering aside, I'd say yearning may not be necessary for the structural integrity of the universe, but even the most jaded advanced being can discern a basic value to our insignificant struggle to increase pleasure and minimize pain regardless of despoiling the source of our sustainance. As I previously stated so succinctly...whatEVER!

Form allows and limits

Our movement

In a room with a view

A function of imagination

That produces

What is past and new

Truly

We seek our own shadow

In the light of every new day

Surely

We learn and we grow

For such is the stuff of our way

"Show me the pinnacle of heavenly bliss,
Then, in a moment, hurl me to despair!"
- Friedrich von Schiller (1759–1805). Wilhelm Tell

Reverse Dreaming for the Uninitiated

So fitting that our remiss is wisdom amid such accomplishment. Choice is almost an afterthought compared to instinctual reaction to circumstances beyond one's control. Still, ever so slowly, a growing realization has taken hold here, and the ramifications are imminent.
The universe has a hole, and God is leaking out.

Please place a kiss so sweetly
Upon my furrowed brow
It seems I am completely
Part of the here and now
To put it quite succinctly
There's no explaining how
We create from thinking
As much as time will allow


"The human mind is our fundamental resource."
- John F Kennedy, 35th US President

Bonus Noises from the Beginning of Time

This poignant oasis serves to nurture visions beyond mere physical comfort and peace of mind. If evolution bears any evidence of an emerging consciousness, our penchant for artistic expression epitomizes such. Although any effort is dust blown across the endless expanse of time, there is an inherent integrity involved in taking a moment to assess the constant flow of chaos. The shifting vibrations may rule infinity for eternity, but let us, if only for a moment, share our portion of that which cannot be divided.

Causeless

Appearances are deceiving
If you're used to believing
What your eyes perceive to be true
If we fear what we're seeing
Then it's just us that's being
Afraid to face our own falsehood

In truth
We're all the same
In truth
We're all to blame
In truth
We're all the light
In truth
We're all the night
In truth
We're all the love
In truth
We're all no one

All to oft perception
Can come into question
If information fails to convince
It seems our recollection
Is somewhat selective
When it comes to before and since

In truth
We're without a clue
In truth
We're short a screw
In truth
We're not aware how
In truth
We're here and now
In truth
We're going nowhere
In truth
We're not sure we care
In truth
We're never done
In truth
We're already one

"There is more ado to interpret interpretations than to interpret the things, and more books upon books than upon all other subjects; we do nothing but comment upon one another."
- Michel Eyquem, seigneur de Montaigne (1533–1592)

The croissant of knowledge

Fine-tuning our guesswork becomes rather tiresome in the light of ultimate truth. Although everyday things may SEEM real enough, they are still just an culmination of sensory probabilities being realized unfolding. The joy and pain we seek and suffer arranges these phenomenon to suit our particular schism. Creative responsibility seems a rather awkward term, but one that apparently suits the situation at hand. Duality, despite being a high-maintenance gesture, remains the only reliable source of original material in the known physical universe.

When Love Goes Splat

Oh, I know a bit about love
I've been done below and above
I admit, push come to shove
I know a bit about love

A thought which does not result in an action is nothing much, and an action which does not proceed from a thought is nothing at all.
- Georges Bernanos (1888–1948)

Deftly avoiding obvious ambiguity

Thinking thus, I become dismayed with the enchantments before me now. The turn of memory serves and is served in accord with alignments far beyond current human comprehension. An ancient codex ingrained in our very genetic structure calls us to evolve so, and suffer for it. The ambition of spirit lives in a cage of it's own device. A thin disguise, to be sure, but what it lacks in structural integrity it more than makes up for in flexibility.

Processed by electric gravity
I spark the former darkness
And then stand between
The dream and the duality
Where all I see is light
Against the veil of time
I lay my head each night

"Life’s but a walking shadow, a poor player
That struts and frets his hour upon the stage
And then is heard no more. It is a tale
Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,
Signifying nothing."
- William Shakespeare, Macbeth

Now, there's a thought...

For whom one seeks being of infinite jest, let us marvel upon the ambition we embody. Lest be it destined otherwise, all defining aspects of this experience naturally culminate in a rather incomprehensible central location. Shedding that which we call real for that which is actually real leads one not to trust the senses, whose reality remains in question heretofore. Symbolism is the trade of art, as abstract thought is to learning, whatever disconcerting elements may be inadvertently produced without explanation. Communication is validation of that which is not experienced directly.

When I remember a memory
The past I am told
Then I transport temporarily
And I put time on hold

Everything that's to be
Everything that is done
Are linked inextricably
Thus the two are one

When I treasure anything
Love, or so I'm told
Then I understand reality
Is the future I unfold

"He knew the precise psychological moment when to say nothing."
- Oscar Wilde (1854–1900)

Identify Yourself

The fabulous monarchy of our best intentions is at best a temporal state of a potential memory imprinting. From these fickle phases do we pluck experiences worthy of retention, despite the impossibility of defining the framework in which they operate. Wildly carousing about in some kind of confused epiphany is not necessarily as becoming as it is enlightening, but it is a small price to pay to be wholly engaged. Soon, all the world will recognize with perfect clarity that there are, and never have been, borders.

Such sweet remiss
Sugarcoats my memories
With temporary bliss

The rush of a kiss
Floats amid pleasures
Forever to exist

What of love like this?
Among obvious discoveries
It's one of the best

"Among the millions of nerve cells that clothe parts of the brain there runs a thread. It is the thread of time, the thread that has run through each succeeding wakeful hour of the individual’s past life."

- Dr Wilder G Penfield, Montreal Neurological Institute

Dynamic Tension Resistance League

Focusing upon the impossible, so clearly defined by that which is not, I am beside myself. Lost in the throes of a battle between chance and fate, I am both a puppet and a master enacting these elaborate fables for y(our) entertainment. Let gentle wisdom guide my heart and hand always, for this world of confusion can challenge the soul.

If there is a truth
There's a lie
If there is perfection
Where am I?
If there is a direction
Other than now
There is a way
To say it somehow

"I have my choice: who can wish for more? Free will enables us to do everything well while imposition makes a light burden heavy."
- Samuel Richardson

the madcap laughs

All too often this twisted tale of duality gone amok remains unrecognized as such, and belief becomes optional. When senses serve reality, we enslave ourselves voluntarily. There may not be much freedom in this mortal coil, but what is there is choice. The madcap laughs understanding nothing is perfect.
Meantimes, we find ourselves heavily pursuing some logical framework to explain situations that have no more complexity than a single flap of a butterfly's wing. Soon, our thoughts turn to silent prayer that our struggle is not in vain. Our case of mistaken identity becomes clear. 'Tis a wicked web that ensnares it's maker, 'tis.

Laughing in the sunshine
Crying in the rain
It's often a thin line
Between pleasure and pain

Working for a living
Giving all you got
Of time we're spending
Being what we're not

Dancing under starlight
Sleeping until noon
What is wrong or right
Only phases of the moon

Kissing in the middle
Of an apocalypse
Nero with his fiddle
Couldn't care less


" Avoid eye contact, kiss."
- Mason Cooley

Chemical Socialism Absentee Ballot

Extra gooey sucrose literally oozing from stunningly ergonomic packaging carelessly consumed with little or no concern for quality control can lead to rather unpredictable mutations. Still, a pleasant attitude and solid personal hygiene practices can go a long way in helping avoid situations that expose one's genetic shortcomings. We may be in the shit can, but we're all in it together!


The power within ourselves
Is far greater than we're taught
Does such a prospect overwhelm
Those whom illusion has caught?

Creating what we wait for
Is an intriguing occupation
Relating after and before
With a perfect unification

The funny thing about perception
It's so real and yet so deceiving
What one sees in any direction
Depends on what one is believing

"I favor whom’s doom except after a preposition."
- Theodore M Bernstein
(Ending some years of ambivalence on the use of who and whom)

Show Stopping Techniques of the Stars

Faced with the inevitable, we naturally choose not to accept the logical conclusion, but rather, formulate a comprehensive campaign promoting the glorious reign of our sense of superiority. Trumpets blare and banners unfurl in a pompous parade of confusion designed explicitly to distract gullible souls from accomplishing anything that might actually contribute to a sane and sustainable existence. Living in the illusion where the spotlight never dims may seem like a pretty good idea at the time, yet, there is always a sneaking suspicion that heretofore unknown factors may intrude on our fortress of daisies. It's a risk we loopy rim-dwellers engage every single moment since we can remember, and like most archaic tribal functions, serves no purpose other than marketing mindless consumerism. Still,as any proto-highly-evolved being knows, swill is best served vigorously stirred.

Remembering I'm dreaming
Is the difference between
What I do and what I'm thinking
And what remains to be seen

Often I'm unraveling
My sense of here and now
Just like light traveling
As fast as time will allow


"Cudgel thy brains no more about it, for your dull ass will not mend his pace with beating!"
- William Shakespeare, Hamlet

Speed Dating Myself

All too oft we opt to obfuscate our special happy dream to reorder supplies for another here and now that may never happen. Yet, with formidable relentlessness, occasion calls. Although formalities may seem restrictive or overbearing, let us remember that one wants to be at their best when forming memories with emotional carnivores. Barring explicit sexual displays, the floor is yours. Bonus points are available for promptness, and can be redeemed at the soiled undergarment exchange, next to Bilbo's Expresso Hut by the loading dock.


Being becomes dreaming
Seeming to be real
Awakened by a feeling
No dream could conceal
But still I will believing
In what is and isn't so
It's not what I'm seeing
As much as what I know

"We must speak by the card, or equivocation will undo us."
- Shakespeare, Hamlet

Purple Brain All in My Haze

What falters in love's journey towards perfection? What accidental misstep falls out of concourse with a true future unfolding? What freakazoid mutant spasm unexpectedly explodes across the face of the known universe marring our perception and acceptance of reality? The churning, yearning, infinite abyss that we like to call home plays by no one's rules, making all points moot, meaningless threads of drivel tied to ideas whose purposes are unfathomable as they are idiosyncratic. One needn't look beyond these very words before your eyes now to see the truth of this.

The Secret Joy of Repetitive Thematic Structure

The beauty of a star
Depends on how far
Light goes to be known
The duty of an art
Fulfills its part
The moment it is shown


"They sin who tell us love can die;
With life all other passions fly,
All others are but vanity.

Love is indestructible,
Its holy flame forever burneth;
From heaven it came, to heaven returneth.

It soweth here with toil and care,
But the harvest-time of love is there."

Robert Southey (1774–1843)

Insert Romantic Interlude Here

All the wackiness of our mating ritual is gently folded into our terrifying survival mechanisms providing us with ample fodder for rationalization of behavior heretofore considered unbecoming. Aye, there is the rub. Primordial goo aside, the decorative aspects of these mindless glee fests almost seem to overwhelm any connection to any spiritual process.

But for what we dream
We're simply light streaming
Between what has been
And what must come into being
It seems as much a sin
As a reason for believing
To end and begin again
Simply by perceiving

This thin tissue of existence
Flutters through time and space
Amid attraction and resistance
We will always find our place

"It is often hard to determine whether a clear, open, and honorable proceeding is the result of goodness or of cunning."
- François, Duc De La Rochefoucauld (1613–1680)

The Illusion of Sanity Consumed My Time

The causeless disturbance of yearning for more continues to dominate our acts, regardless of altruistic rationalizations. Life, it seems, is consumption, elimination and procreation, so boldly exalted in the daily processes that preoccupy us. The universe is really so far beyond what any given human can comprehend, and yet, so many of us give more weight to politics and entertainment than we would ever devote to actual learning. Perhaps this is for the best, considering that truth is madness.

Everywhere is the center
Everyone is God
Each future we enter
Is meant to go on

All dreams are just one dream
Between the future and past
The present is just what seems
May or may not last

"Oh Science, lift aloud thy voice that stills
The pulse of fear"
-Lucretius (Titus Lucretius Carus) (94–55 B.C.)

Unlikely Solutions To Perplexing Problems

Insight and insanity fight for peace among the synapse bushes that our tribe calls Home. Oh, but to be whisked away from the toil and drudgery of mere subsistence into a blue cloud of perfect belonging. But such dream worlds must wait, here and now is the battleground of this frisky soul so deeply embedded in the holy flesh of existence. A great universe has great need, and we are like petals toward the rising sun.

In other news: Our ancient chicane continues to despoil the fruits of our labors endured. For it is one thing to seek comfort against a sea of turmoil, and quite another to get one's hand stuck in the recliner grasping for the remote. The point is a matter of degree of awareness concerning security issues.

What fortune bears for us my dear
Our tales untold unfolding?
What future bodes for those here
Whose hearts we are holding?

"It is pretty obvious that the debasement of the human mind caused by a constant flow of fraudulent advertising is no trivial thing."

- Raymond Chandler