Is it that Braindead suggests politics are a pathology? And how does an adorkable waitress use Tide Pods to tidy up her cluttered, empty life? Is the lie the only way to tell the truth? Can only song say what the heart thinks? Do you just need a man to fumigate your brain, or as comic relief or a tool to grip? Some parasitic ideas are you sick? What’s eating your brain today, and why can’t you just say it? Who can we get to fix all this? Who says success is anything but what you think it is for you? And what the fuck do you know anyway?
Why are children making eyes at one another when they’re making glittery balls of foam to represent the solar system? Are kids with iPhones, programming android apps at school, really going to be taught by a grown adult who thinks it worth the precious youth they can’t get back again?
Have you ever been told you that you’re fuckable? Oh but what was the context? Have you been subjected to the force of the stranger, the other, the alter ego, the doppelgänger, the drifter, the shape shifter, sidestepper, blindsider, backbiter, mad-faced doubletalker? Have you played the part in some off broadway production? Oh haven’t you gone off on someone?
The thing is, if you ask what’s on my mind, why you don’t you take the time to listen? That’s not your mission, huh? You’re here for some grander purpose? Somehow in the blizzard of suffering we’re all weathering, do you think you don’t deserve it? And what if you do deserve? So what? Well if life doesn’t matter now, will it ever? Did life ever matter? Or is life the water being pushed by the wind? What is the wind, the invisible force which moves us, the pneumatic thrust? Is truth incendiary now? Is there justice now, if our mode of justice serves to rust us, corrode our trust? Which lives matter?
Can you ethically support murder? Does it feel better to justify a murder, or to murder someone else for committing the murder and call it justice? Why are some beatings assault and some fantasies rape? When you were a kid and you got tagged, did you say it doesn’t count? Do your tinted shades and tinted windows shade the world from your brilliance or you from their ignorance? Is death the penalty for disobedience, or the worthiest opponent to the futile charge of being alive? Do you order your brothers and sisters over the throw pillow trenches to soak up the couch fort’s machine-gun fire? Can you lose all the battles but still win the war? Is a mob more moral than man alone?
The sacrifice you made; was it enough? Did it glorify god? Who was pleased by your deeds? If you glorify and give pleasure to yourself, do you sit upon your own throne? Do you climb upon your own cross? Do you give so others gain? Do you move amongst the masses, setting their tongues to flickering flames of ancient names? Who do you inspire by setting a tree on fire?
A cup or a bowl?
Fresh or with a skin?
Hot or cold?
Stale bread or crouton?
Does it matter what the name is?
The real shame of it is thinking
it doesn’t have to be like this.
It could have been worse you say
But you feel things
What is a feeling anyway?
What is a thought?
What is yes and what is not?
You don’t know that. You don’t know.
You couldn’t be more wrong
Unless you were more right.
Get left behind by all the rest
Or accelerate the rush of decay
We build a tower of freedom
And jump off the loyal base to escape
Oh is that the easy way?
I’m sorry and goodnight but wait
Are you afraid one day you’ll die,
Or that you were not quite alive?
Stone submits to waves of air and rain
Countless drops descend again and again
To mist around a monument today
And tomorrow wash it away.
Never underestimate anyone.
Life exists and that’s proof enough it is more powerful than death. And even if life is extinguished completely, never to return, and yet it does, popping up in a new form, lovers over dinner and intellectual banter, cicadas on biochemical dimmer switches, watermelon jolly ranchers and dissolving stitches, we are always coming back together, we are always building bridges. Artisans of scorched wood, thermite charged with playing a peaceful corpse in the world premiere production of united dominations, see it first or see it last, you will see as the sinister mob sees with hidden fees and unpaid dues for dividends in arrears for years and forgive us for we know not what we do to hit continue one more time of all the twitching lines that seemed ripe until the first bite and it’s rotten inside the beautiful hide you ride or fly in a lie of the emperor’s new clothes, truth is contagious share the wealth of our ancestors table scraps of a feast from a fable in a fairy tale castle and weddings like funerals conveyors of coffins dance on like ducklings into the sewer later or sooner it’s beads on a skewer or a calculator, what’s useful gets used up without remainder. A brown butcher paper flap creased along its center of mass, died twelve thousand and seventeen meters later in a bionic bird nest.
Older than most dirt you see
I’m here to eat you
Make your arm
Into a soup
Hack at your roots
No telling what I’ll do
Or when I come for you
Great white devil
Your worst fears come true
Defenses I get through
Think you’re safe when you wake
But I’m right behind you
But why listen to me
I’m just someone who’s ruined it all
From day one
Just learn how to speak
Make melodies jangling keys
Put in your time
keep your head down
Get into the game
Capitalize on your youth while you can
Or remain in the dust
From whence you came
You’re dark she said too dark for me
But it’s darkest when it’s deep
Life is teeming at the vents
Toxicity for you maybe
But it’s home to me
I thrive on suffering
I dive in willingly
It surrounds me
That’s when I stop noticing
What I mean
Quiet for a moment
Let everything speak at once
The forest of geometries leaves nothing out
Ravines deepen at night and fill at dawn
Go on down as far as you dare
Set foot to stair as the light dries
A place to visit but don’t live there
Let us notice that we notice ourselves
The whole thing knows itself
The mess on painted shelves
Level and square stacked salt
Nature grows us as crystals.
We make crystals too
We are nature too
Hands of five carve space into life
We the highly reactive compounds
We cannot help but leave a trace
Let us not walk lightly through this place
Let us encrust the entrusted trusses
upholding the starry dome of consciousness
with the wet dust of our yearning mineral pigments
Let’s leave a fossil record
Evidence in layers of sentiment
Let the shape of our loving bones
Impress the ancient stones
And prove we’re not alone
The veiled one replied,
And who wouldn’t be proud of me?
An atmosphere of polka dots of
Light bent on gravitational waves
Within a vast ineffable folded space
Some degrees north of an asteroid
Belt held her nebulae in place
Beneath a sulfuric acid sky.
There is no weave, no hue devised
What can hide divine form from the mind.
Even the deepest blackest masses
Yield their truth with backstage passes
All in their own due time.
It’s just a little ways
I said to make the 6:58.
Stopped once along the way by
Stutter steps and heavy breath
With diesel passing on the left.
Three chums into the boxy whale
Before I scarce could catch its tail
And mouth agape it kindly waits
To catch me in the baleen seats
Along its windowed flanks
Only to spit me out about
Twenty-some odd times a week.
Been awake awhile now
While most are still asleep.
I could regret about everything
But I haven’t got the time.
I’m not the strongest link
The weakest or the richest soil
To grow a crop of human
If you hold on to your pride,
My name is gratitude,
I will remember you.
Just kidding. You can’t, and you never will.
That said, it could have been so much worse. Every mistake is a Wikipedia entry. You can edit it to suit your short term motivations but scrupulous and admirable individuals will spot it like a Canal Street Guchi or Parada. Learn from the mistakes of your younger self. You’ll find a direct approach to wisdom through humility.
If anyone tells you they know what’s going to happen or says “Here’s the reason why…” doesn’t approximate a semblance of an authority on why anything at all has happened, or from what impenetrable dark comes the whole of our experiences in a continual present, and into what inscrutable darkness of the eternal future does your nowness evaporate?
I don’t know, maybe. We’ll see, or won’t we? Shake the magic 8-ball inside the inky mind. That’s all anyone has to offer, a tired old trick a last dollar winning scratch off jackpot of another scratch off ticket. Everyone can play the numbers maybe win a bit, by bit and byte and batch and buy a try again a whole life later. Maybe sooner, stay tuned, keep this channel up and over.
A slow flame
The flower in bloom
How long is the coastline
How ruffled the petals
In the origami timeline
of networked plant mind
Awareness to full earth
Bespoke in framed time
Thought pollinating sine
Ringed oscillations moire
Waves etch membranes
In universal binary
Growing deeper into center
Pushing for escape velocity
Glacial frieze of flow a whole
Hyperbole in symmetry