10/21/15
I dream I had:
I was a seal swimming with the seals along the coast of
South Africa and along the coasts of islands off the coast of South Africa in a
sea free of great whites. However, once
I realize I have to keep my smartphone dry, I become human, circumcised by
technology, and before I even realize what’s happening I’m travelling upstream
on a motorboat with my drug dealer with a baggy full of white tablets I also
have to keep dry. Running the boat back
downstream, Marines (or were they Navy Seals?) running covert operations in the
dark, they pay me no mind, under the cloak of an alternate universe where I am
one of them. They take my alter ego in
for questioning, while I wait in a corrugated steel watchtower with track and
field out the window and my father is on television driving a golf ball off the
crossbar and through a football upright while my father’s friend clowns for the
camera.
@0200
Anxiety
produced by the product of my produce, difficult to calculate under the
circumstances. I start thinking my heart
is operating under conscious reflex.
There is definitely something in me that I need to reason with or
fight. A mind on smart-drugs or uppers,
there’s always one extra clean-up step and I see people in public places
leaving litter behind and I feel like it’s my duty to pick up the pieces like disco. Everyone has problems, a girlfriend’s
great-aunt died, it’s okay to cry, and it’s okay to connect! If there’s anything I can do! Bee pottery hexacomb, I don’t care
about being anything, just a person who
matters, as I treat others at the end of the line, as a resource for rent. Shy from so much judgment, those who judge
others invite others to judge, be unconditional not unrequited (secret to all
happiness, so says the New
Order Stray Dog). And there’s always
dirty money involved isn’t there? Isn’t there?
@1551
And now
as I move past the former… the former…closer to the fully formed oyster looking
for a laugh, I don’t like feeling vulnerable because I know I am and I like to
forget. Everybody but the most hardened
combatants have vulnerabilities and even then…hearts and heels. Everybody loves a laugh. Hard to find that tickle spot? So cold.
So heavy. The floating soul of
some vision-inducing rock on the surface of some struggled-upon planet…with so
much luxury water gone to waste, now a laughing stock to aliens and a broth of
hilarity to everyone else. Alfred E
Neuman’s anxious father, one generation removed, worry gives way to
madness. The music, the technology, and
most importantly the medium (is the message), the external adaption to cultural
evolution brought about by the eternal consciousness that strings theories that
are really morphing mandalas interpreted in different ways. Drama occurs so much in one whom humor is
lacking, (often the result of prolonged dehydration), blessings to the stage
performer, and curses to the lamb astray!
Who is that special person who can draw the light of the sun through a
cloud? Thinking I’m someone special
through emotional wringing, feeling sorrow for myself! Indeed! How dissimilar? Look at me growing old and sour in the cold
in ill health. People are dying during
the season of my birth again! Rig an election!
How well does the democratic process relate
to self-governance on a personal level? What
general recourse does one have but in-season cauliflower? Romanesco?
@1616
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