The Middle Labor Day Way

4/28:

Feeling funny-fuzzy, partially incontinent, and cold and grey like the weather here in Buffalo today like a regional stereotype and a bad joke.  Emotionally and spiritually fatigued as I am, out-looking positive, and just overwhelmed that everything’s switching off-and-on, as it were, from contentment to desire, from life to death, instead of following the so-called ‘middle-way’.  [Am-bee-ants ambience]  A macabre double-header of wakes where heads are removed and necks are joined and buried as one bitorsoed body like a grisly palindrome in desecrated semiotic decay.  Diabolic efficiency!  But it’s important to be grateful to-for others who put ease in footsteps and add beauty to what could be considered obscene (by perspective) in a dark night of the soul – a metaphysical blindness that constitutes melancholy.  Burping, smoking, with crude physiology, a brick shithouse backhand slapping, desk charging, taboo living, ‘do you wanna get high?’ Smokin’ joints with the old Weezers on their way to wakefulness, back into Barb’s bag with the failure of twisted words to manifest in the moments I remain (thankfully) unawares, oblivious to academic threes, dream quadrants, and holy pentagrams!  I’m confused, aimless, drifting to Tudor drafts, barging in on conversations about Bethlehem steel and Love Canal, chasing a delirious shake with financial pity for the suffering shark.  (Who has time for real friends?)  The madness of science for earning, efficiency, and mechanism solely, when in reality we are all connected in a unified field where we all suffer for the likes of the sadistic separatists who pulverize their human remains for the pulse of entrails and think they can privatize gas emissions and watershed pollutants as they run off to lonely islands with obvious disdain for environment and neighborhoods.  The nerve of superiority!  Atlas shrugs as Oklahoma earthquakes are becoming more seismic with the waste water of hydraulic fracturing.  Industrious savages!  Too drunk to be funny, but jest sober enough to hammer bass. The desire to lay my lips on something sweet overwhelms as I drink potions...

6/18:

Deep Economy: Erin, care of Canada via Peru, at Taza where all worries dissipate into cooperativeness, where it’s popular to be unpopular, because cliques exist past high school, cast your vote where you spend your money.  Cuomo must drink a lot of coffee!  Andrew Cu-omo, that copper (Cu) homo (Nid) has no idea how to live, only how to die; tool, running the devil machine that should be called New Amsterdam if he were doing it better.  Instead the Guido leader of the legal mafia in blue that kills blacks and supports the proletariat hierarchy that was supposed to have been abolished in 1776, “governs”.  If I could put a fork in the blacktopped road I’d create a metaphor that stands for divergence with a little flag that isn’t resembling a Union Jack.  Such is the vicious nature of interconnectedness, and the further we expand the net, web, or globalized economic culture, the more difficult it is to remove the black tar that represents corporate greed, plutocracy and profit; and the heroin that represents psychic removal, black markets, impurity, and incarceration.  The glutinous ‘bigger is better’ mega-list philosophy is further and further removed from reality like an autistic automaton, a manufacturer of the mechanistic, or a proponent of wasteful hastiness.  [Eyeball; I balk.]  Doors off his Tracker, child in the back seat, blasting bachata; must be a terrorist!. What is socially unjustifiable anymore?  Life around a card table full of cheaters, meaningless microcosm, synecdoche of a game, wet 2D symbolism, 3D projection of a 4D world, becoming between destiny and history...