We are made of stars, that central level of connectivity with the rest of the universe, looking up into the bright shining M of the body of cassiopeia, her curves, her beauty but then arrogance and vanity... passion of a rookie yet poised like a veteran... not only to know the names of all 88 but to know the mythology behind them all, the reason for the supposed shapes and the way of communicating in case of comet or meteor, a science in the face of pure belief systems, that impurity and the lab coat whiteness and sterility of hospital life... thank that refreshing night air for gentle invasion of the lungs to spread throughout my body an acute happiness, that self-awareness in the dark street, warming up the body, breathing harder than a resting heart rate, laying down, snoring, pulse.. feeling the inside of me work wonderful with all questions, the deepest, thrown out in front of me like omens from a mystical hand, the answers, of course, not provided though a proximity to this total understanding is reached quietly, as if through a state of slumber, then sudden aching lucidity, the tall junipers reaching toward bright Jupiter, Orion points to it, wants it, chases after it, but only moves in small portions his kaleidoscopic body, heaving and lunging in some respects like a rorshach ink blot test, only we agreed as a society many thousands of years ago how the heavens would be leveled...
find the secret to life and to existence but have no one around to share it with in any conviction.. she was about to fully remove herself in able to gain the necessary objectivity to the essence of the universe, which is to say a state of nirvana, of ultimate good-feeling, sneaking around corridors rushing by the old questions asked and answered, remembered and rephrased for a new dialogue, the colorful sun glare and the flaring moon across a hardly broken ocean inlet, moving about slowly in majestic stillness, a knowledgeable stillness that promotes the ideas of taking it slow and steady, counting your blessings purely and simply in stoic consciousness... demonstrate that natural good will of your, the powerful grasping hands of prediction and intelligent banter, entering a state of late morning delirium at the thought of returning home and sleeping in that great down comfort, of lost days prior to restless pen-twirling in many high school classes, fully identified with and in secrets cahoots with the day-planners. (though this was restless pencil twirling in math class. eraser was necessary to cleanly trace out variable formulas.)
never let all of that awesome knowledge go to waste. share and be shared with. your motivation is rewarded with higher production of creativity in the face of such thoughtless waste. the daily thoughtless waste. the vegetation of us all. fulfill basic needs though there are such adventurous experiences, a seeking of passion, a vengeful and rebellious idea of breaking the status quo apart as if it were a paper doll, something fragile... smashing it all to pieces like a high way pile up, an afterburner, the glorious road-worn sunset. driving all of those extra exotic miles into a brand new experience, it all adds, it never detracts... One day alone could never subtract from the whole. It is a forward motion, a new centered understanding. a layer of paint added onto an already complicated and extensive painting. the canvas widening with each day in passing. colors re-forming and expanding with it. shades and hues of personality splashed in with breathless brush stroke, some of the paint covers up, but scrape away and the foundation forever remains.... like a memory, only certain concentrated chemicals can reduce this residue. They tear the paint from the canvas completely though it is required to burn through top layers prior and you would be a forgetful mother fucker at this point in time. In this section of the radius. The radar gun pointing pointed straight upward to capture the flight speed of a space shuttle, or the andromeda galaxy, just sleeping to survive, high above the perceived heavens and actually expanding each minute, the galaxy has nothing to do with politics in any format, the pigments and fragments of all that complex matter, we all share that basic plasma! a common plasma! we should never feel afraid though we are corrupted from honest goals to be greater connected! through art and truth in all shades of scattered glory.
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11:00 pm
Fly through the desert like a bat into hell and wonder how and why I got there, an impulsive decision, but there can be no regret or turning back, something simple and sinful, letting hopes rise and rise and be surpassed even, all high considerations. Race towards this eminent vacation from a vacation but this time it will be a kind of fun that all of us can understand so quickly and easily. Some rekindling of fires and a new found positive personality, nothing could go wrong, the worst would be to be crawling through the streets once more, but it would never happen, consider this a wonderful lapse of justifiable thinking but in the end the progress toward goals will be completed regardless, double time it afterwards due to the serious nature of such a binge... but for the sake of fun and escape even moreseo I'd be willing to go anywhere, do anything, it is in this adventure where I can find true reason for myself and my position on this globe. This is what I want and why. Now with a working coffee maker perhaps I can work at the pace I wish to once more. Full irresponsible speed with no stop signs anywhere, only green lights and introspective moments between the worlds, the historical generosity and the glazed over eyes opening and closing like doors in a hotel/motel near a prostitute-populated street. Having no idea of a motivational speech. Is there any such displacement of emotions then a blank slate? Something a little rude and off-putting but I'm different god damn it. These insecure thoughts hold no water in the end, at the end of the day, the beginning of a spark, all-consuming. Wishing that choking hold kept up and out of insulted territory. Stomp on me! My dreams and ideals! But I'm wishing it all to come true. Nothing bad could ever happen again. With this mindset and this motivation the world in its entirety is possible and blossoming like a great flower. For all of the immediate things I may have thrown off-kilter, I apologize but my soul will not because I feel I need this trip to find something to return from. I need stories and dirty love. I need to fill my cup and seek that adventurous spirit throughout all pulsating embryos on a certain plane of existence. A higher plane of existence, a great quality, and a fine caliber person, of the right mind, calling the shots like a man in charge of his surroundings, all warping and bending on its own accord and free will to make way for the man's presence, simple and good-natured but there are huge contradictions in him if anyone actually looks that deep. But they don't and they won't. Be that all-powerful killing smile individual. Find a happy medium between all of the best personality traits and never allow anything other to occur. Seeing old friends and never feeling angry once. Something akin to full comfort, that silence is not uncomfortable. How have you been, my friend? My anxiety of productivity spikes again at the moment. Today is a prime example of how I do not want to deal with a day like this in the future. I love my life. There is nothing else to say that could erase that from me. I just sometimes feel myself lagging behind that awesome, idyllic, prototype of a human, racing out in front of me like a metal rabbit for racing dogs.. I am cast in his shadow, he laughs at my lacking attempt to catch up and to look in that future tense mirror to see myself turn into him. Or to find myself to have been him already and that the amount of effort that I put into life and the exertion of mind in typical daily situations, the thoughts, the dynamic, the progressive nature, the joyous for the exciting factors of life and the yes-saying to new experiences at every available opportunity. Missing the mark in certain senses but I am the one who is infinitely harder on myself than many others would ever be unless they were my basketball coach that I may never have. The proper technique for these deterministic goals. First off, had awful posture but now shifted into something more effective and less permanently damage. I can't worry about this prototype of a human because if I end up fucking up my spine I will know that I am not him. But something else. Something better in other senses.
Yellow teeth and curvature of the spine, memorize a dictionary, build a grandfather clock by hand, develop an acquired taste for everything, count every star in the sky and know all constellations, dirty fingernails, proof of work and productivity but also a sign of laziness and neglected hygiene, a singing voice like a golden shining god, the god of opportunity, he waits on the other side, where the grass is greener but drifts away through the other fence to the next yard once you traverse that first picket fence. Neatly chart off your land and separate it accurately from mine without any hesitation. It might have been a feeling of denial in the first instant of collision. All the memories of love or the lack of love and then analyzed through that red/blue lens to interpret the present. Glorious nosebleed. Letting the nature take over our childhood. This is a huge change and a necessary career choice though I've seen no physical money. Simple charity case items. Blowing the stacks into those small furnaces.
