forward thinking, trying to make the best of situations

willing hands, willing fingers, half smiles

eyes ahead, romantic, language in the brows, in the looks, no passivity

whole hearted annihilating punctuated meaning

or none at all, none at all

where's it all headed?

but intense, to the scorpio, to a capital S

where is it all going?  where am I ending?

burning eyes, burning brows, expressions add up

looks, mirrors, goes, in

battle with myself, sin

needed help, got it, needed numb

got it

folding over the balcony of expression, the generation of honesty can discover malleability

and the music turns religious

again

and the dancing becomes formal

again

how will that happen?

time, it tells

of wind

chill my sternum

make new friends come, and they make conversation pleasant, please let me be


vibrant

hesitant, chills, chilly, distant voices, calling

wild, wild, ways, of their habits, their songs, vibrato

core gutteral gashes at the spasm, reaching for a bit of relaxation, reaching for a bit of calm, perhaps of acceptance

people

nothing but with an added extra something, life is the whipping cream

flakey

but delicious


blown over a thousand times, over again, again

wanting, yearning, looking for answers, built up an array of

prejudice

devoid of feeling, over time, and craving new things

and days go by

I love your silence

say something silly but said without vibration

put to sleep in evening and never missed the moments of thought

brought myself back to myself, never wrong, take the rug from underneath my feet

and I keep spinning, my little girl, and take care of each other

in that classic way, oh man it feels good

like a worm in the sheets, feeling away around the brisk, yes

deep in non-thought, nonsense, everlasting laughter

your silence

are boring beings

we tell so many stories

but we are

truly

boring

AHAHAHAHAHA

its truly a riot!  we're so boring!

its hilarious!

feels a bit better

a bit easier

there was, no commotion this morning, and the people in my life

all surround me

the breaths are deep,

and there is silence, and a bit of romance, romantic film, romantic talk,

some business, some let downs

but I'm un-effected, still ready, still poised, understanding of what I want, and those are all good feelings

so I sit and write, and that is okay

the examined life, portrayed right at the fingertips, in loving memory, in loving color, swirled together, finding their roots at epitome, the example. the hand reaches out to the flower pedal floating its all simple, the hand reaches for what it needs, the person is enchanted, delighted, to be a part of something, that moment when the dynamic is flawless, those little moments, when the sun hits and there are parades in the background the the hand and eye and mouth are all focused on one specific interaction.  

these moments, take up all the time they need, and then they pass, and that is that, but time has a funny way of working its way up the spine, finding itself later in the recess of memory, embrace, warmth that is uncontitional, while no truth is permanent some stand for longer periods than others, and while they stand we dance, we dance, we dance

we cast ribbions to to top!  and we throw confetti all over and celebrate!  yes and while celebration may be a set up for disappointment, in that moment, that specific moment, celebration is perfect, and love shines, and its power is furious, its power is locked in, and death is escaped somehow, the spirit is sprinkled, like the confetti, and the individual is, truely, selfless

what I have control over, and what I don't

god grant me the serenity

acceptance, wisdom,

the difference

magna carta and raise me a constitution

letters upon letters suggesting what I should understand

the mind making associations, again, again, again

the limitless factors that go into any context, conversation

auto-pilot?  direct intent?  specific motivation?   impossible to really figure out

the neurons firing, and the impulses flaring

the body, the mind

is it possible for me to forgive myself?

feeling in between, like no bubble can bring to the lips

conterfeit, lost in abyss, wanting so badly, want for a word that says, this
then grapple for eternity

stumble on stumbling letters, falling into place like a melody

existing in a moment in time, beat down and empowered, all there is to it, all there is to release it, all there is to compose!  to grasp!  Wait your turn that never comes

and I sit cross legged, with a  cup of coffee and I look back shaking my head, oh how far I've come, man here's to that

I ask forgiveness from my old dog, who I neglected...the poor boy is gone

****** stuck in muck, where can the process emerge, how can the subtlety grasp onto the big leviathan, allowing little particles of coconut goodness to sprinkle over towns, bringing a day of glory and joy

the power to forgive, between the auto-pilot of conversation, read out loud, pronounced as a competition!  

reverting back to that old way of sales pitch, selling forgiveness on the streets!  Tainted?  no, more like...genuine intent but lost in translation, lost in apathy, deaf ears, no

forgiveness, not to forget, but to make the personal decision, a selfish thing, really, to forgive yet never speak to the person ever again

I'll take a glass of that and raise you fifty

caught dangling in the bathroom, caught thought up in little thinkings, those little nibblets nibbling at your inner ear, telling you you're weird

funkining funkinings frolicking around frustrated ambassadors

stuck out of time, make sense of anything, when the road ahead seems so clear,

and a vision presents itself on a pedestal, asking to be taken

awkwardly feeling my way around a toolshed, I'm on empty

where am I again?  step by step

step by step

be gentle on yourself

trying to write the **** thing come O/htu stnasdinkad;fwafiohjad
hipfa
adshidf'kahsdfi[o
kdszhjo'zsfhi'jiso­a
k'fphhakzhljf
dhk;dhksj
ad
F
u'cjkckkiubgnhdi f

fCUjhcking FKSCREAM SCRREAM CSCREAM FUFKC **** FUCKU FUFCKFUFD Daf
LETLET IT IT OUTUTUT GOD ******

what the ******* hello

HELLO FUICKING POETRY

IM CRAZY SEANY ARMSTRONG AND I COME TO PLAY

won't get out of my lap
kitty kitty don't you understand?  how very peculiarly profoundly perfect your life became the minute you found yourself locked in this palace?  your freedom of this house

won't you take this life less seriously with me?  I struggle, I learn every day too, I watch the comedies, and your nose wet, rare, square, trying to, let it a llll

go!!  how how how how!  how do you take a man

who takes the world so seriously

and turn him into THE JESTER???? a true and perfect comedian!

perhaps my self entitlement puts me back in the hole aGain!! MUSKRAT

NOTHING, there is the bit of horrible, horrible, stark truth in every joke, the brutality of honesty,


or perhaps the comedy is the hot dog wrapped in a bagel that is absurdity

or perhaps the comedy is the bagel itself and the ****** is the ******* truth that we relate to

what would louis say?  what would jerry say?  what would Chris rock?  and Richy Gervais or however you spell his name?  Silverman?  help me out here, give me a few answers

the audience doesn't lie, and they laugh at the stupidest things, when the artist is outside of themselves, when the comedian isn't even aware of what they are doing, but some sort of ironic twist is born out of nothing...nesss

its getting too confusing, and I'm back to square one, back to my confusions, make me into more or whatever I wrote before

left to perpetual seriousness?  I don't want to believe this, are the average comedians liars and the geniuses genuine?  what is genuine quality really?  put under the microscope it is resentful and pity, and often in jail!

and the cat, rests, sleeps, curls, even as I type and her head, keeps getting pushed to the side over and over again... and never bites, because she has learned that she doesn't have to, the food is provided, and anxieties are only presented by...

silly little things.  Silly, silly little things.  That she makes up in her brain.

placed on the counter a letter of acceptance, for my brother, who I suspect my mother favors

a letter which I've already had, which is now in the past, and now it is his turn to take a chance

and I sit and ponder, with my wine, after showing...spite, in spite of myself

hating myself for not speaking highly of him, confused about how it is I can emerge, knowing that there is something inside of me burning, but the energy does not run on love alone, no, I rely on their support

bothered, hopeless, a prince, nothing is my own, the son of PHD's, working everyday, heavily, work as a way of life, climbing fossilized into the very spirit, the bone, the bone, the bone, to pursue or to desire something other than the hardest of work is frightening, is unknown,

an artist supported by business, working in tandem for years, perhaps the two couldn't work without each other, art in its arrogance and business in its modesty, or perhaps the other way around,

even a site called hello poetry, what of its business?  I am not sure, what of its profits?  not a clue, they could be benefitting off of every word I write, but I depend on their site to project my bits, my uselasssfullglossful sentiments, with notes at the end that gives one an opportunity to be fabulous

fabulous, fabulousness, entry, entress, prince, looking up at the twighlight, rescued by nothing, a rebel with something to lose, a bourgeois without room for entitlement, entitlement being the reward of bourgeois, or perhaps education alone, I can be grateful for

which brings me back to that acceptance letter, and my feelings of spite, then I spat, and I want to confess tonight, that I regret that

for magnificence of spirit, holy grade arsenal of blueberry blossom fantasy folly, laughs at the most inappropriate moments, flan with coconut sprinkles and espresso, rip out my insides, and I'll reach out to you, my love, all we've been through.

the song wasn't meant for you but it turned to be yours anyway, a broken wheel on the freeway, some kind of trust or something beyond whatever people can do, letters, tiny, speckles, frightened under the bridge of a passing train, jumping over puddles, children again

or maybe it was, you insist, insist and I have learned from you that I don't seem to have a god ****** clue, and your light shines a whole light brighter than mine so I'll just have to clutch your hand and let you guide us through the underground, resume's and bits of talent, empty pizza boxes on a radioactive island, stranded

but something is ironic about the whole thing, and in your jacket you look look like a lost little penguin, and the absurdities add up and the question marks leave us with humor beyond anything I've known, question marks that bed and make love, little tid bits of apology that didn't make their way to the trial, now their standing there with feet chained to bits of radioactive metal, the apocalypse came before anyone could punish us, and now the jokes on them, or maybe its just on us, because we just can't seem to stop farting!

romance me

with your

macaroons

la dee da dee dooo

merry setter, merry go round of go-getters, attempting to lurch at the next bit of bread, the bourgeois making their bets, sat quietly at cafe at ate pizza, evening, middle of the day, lost track of time, bull wind, a time lapse of mystery novels all intertwining, at the very heart the mystery of new life, the anxieties building up around it, what's going to happen to it?  

in new york cars pass by and horns honk as the coffee brews and brisk is barely bearable, anxious to hear new news, anxious to get the next job, whats in store, whats in front, a song is thought for the next sell, car lots and cheap motels.  honesty is a feedback loop, existing out of time and space, making its way around the prongs of video games, the memory cards are stashed, and the men don't know where the next card to be had is at

The laptops rest and the lights of sleep purr, the reading glasses rest on top and not a soul in the house stirs, blank walls and blank faces, even frowns as it all brews down, the green light flickers here, the last bit of sunlight is the only constant, echoes from the freeway flicker and draw back a curse, of perpetual seriousness, of stoic enterprise, stuck out of time, once, and only, again

falls

simple

coffee

tastes

good

is to **** a joke

but death can be funny

why?

stuck in this rut, reveling in reaching, ricky and louis laughing at twisted tales like sherlock on a good manic day, goofy with hysteria throw happiness in cyanide, worse for fever and worse for cold, worse for hangover, too conscious of the trifecta of time, not conscious enough of growing old, massive teeth baring ***** and snitch and ******, all the ***** words thrown into a frying vat, frothing and frolicking in mixtures of mundane, however twisted in the opposite, do come again?  

worse, then worser, then the worsest you can imagine, thrown into the sea for some sort of great escape, some sort of greater story, to retrieve a golf ball that was planted at the beginning of the joke, the joke is funny, and we laugh

and perhaps the man that is somehow removed from this time lapse will lose his ability to know hysteria, the man who no longer knows seriousness will live his life better but not contribute humor to the mix, but will be, as a tree, indifferent

given away, given up, given to suit, to jacket, to shade, to gray, gray gray, fifty shades of ****** up, I laughed at that one, but later I whipped and she screamed with pleasure, the truth hides and has a loving eye and a whipping tail

a red faced ******, hysteria, the cure for cancer, to humor, to understand truth yet purposefully mislead, the bit, and finally, the bow

jesting at the marble staircases, approach the first, the second, the third, with some sort of head held high, with a body painted head to toe, holding a stiff upper lip, raised brow, this is what you came for, this is what you planned all along, to dance the ***** dance across the sacred, to leave some kind of art, the ancient art, all over the constitution, marbles in molasses, forever more making music for the horror villains, who haunt for redemption, who haunt for their pride,

and the point of the story is to be reunited, twisted, as the village burns the people become more and more suspicious, too many stories, the superstitions, spawn across a canvas, held high at talks with tall chairs, tall chairs, the tallest chairs, and microphones, and everyone is a cowboy

who is haunt, and who pales, who feels the repercussions of curse?  of cameras flying overhead, something new to be found or said, practicing this and that, entitled to the wild, entitled to the flesh of story, running so deep in the veins, santa clause wearing a veil and his green eyes suddenly turn him a troll, his sleigh lead by dreadful red

its a circus, my friends, and I long to think myself a ring leader, with a whimsical voice of Shakespeare, longevity, to live forever, while the haunts pluck out their tunes on their strings made from cowhide that brings about the pale, pale moon, sinking teeth into fish, and finishing with a gist, a clever remark, that forgiveness is good but not a given, finish with flesh, the cowboys make their music, and the haunting continues

on and on and on

only at certain times

doesn't make out the sunlight, too bright

sensitive to this and that, to everything

there is warmth, against the skin

thin, thinner, thinning

when its perplexing, near to ******, but never ending, never ending need

and the paranoia

the backlights next to the large bottles of forget

and they are appealing on the surface

but behind them there is dust

fleeting, window surfing, window shopping

judgments quickly make you stuffed

you think you got it all figured out

but then you're left in the white room with your dark pencil, again

scribbling frustrations, oh the strategies never end

is it the chase?  the chase can be fun

is it fun?  the fun can be dangerous

is it the danger?  Perhaps

flip a coin, you win one

flip it twice, win twice,

flip it three times, and the chase is fixation

banging pots and pans together, tin  to block out the noise

the coins, the metal, seeping into the skin,

wash the hands, start all over again

burst!  burst out, flame!!

almost there, came, came to

and the world stays still, and the people out the window,

go about their business while I give in to what I see fit

and my body is fit

and the mind is of acceptance

what many would have done I do, glazing the surface with my ski, freer than the notes from the truck, the ice cream

oh rupture, rally and cry, do as you like, wear it as a a sash and remember or forget, put in your bag and remember a few days later, gaze again, and again, and another thought enters,

rupture, relentlesslessly, and go out that way, to delay dying or to sustain living, oh, one in the same, oh the irony in our ways, the moments of hysteria, taking over the senses!  charm and poise, laughter, the cure

and comfortable with it

letting go of that grasp, of the desire for immense power

something deep inside of anyone deprived of it

one has to ask themselves, how much do they really need?  how much anxiety must one endure, go through in order to grasp it?

the peaceful mind, is it enough?   there's truth in all kinds of things, its flakey like most things, but its comforting enough when it rolls off the tongue, in the opportune moments

scenes from a play, seems from a hat, don't know what you'll get, or where your head will be at

predictability, or to be comfortable with the uncertainty

oh, pass it on, pass it on, say yes to that one

a stoic, I am, meant to be

passing by slowly

long times spent gazing out the window

the snow on top of the adjacent roof wouldn't know

I am a stoic, but less noble

tilt the head back and let in, let in,

what needs to be dealt with

decisions, decisions, plainly, dealt with, all the same

a stoic, remember my name

to savor, to have the willpower

to wait, to anticipate...anticipation, and let it roll over

like you'd roll over a tortilla, for someone you love

the browned crust, the wine, savored in the evening with company,

to savor company itself, to wait to speak to the one you love, on the balcony, when nobody else is watching

sips are delicious, and to sip is to practice humanity, to distill, to understand, that there will be another sip in the near future, and you remember the last

sounds less threatening that *** and drugs, doesn't it?

but they're the same thing, oh long drag, oh long sigh, oh long winding wheezy world moving by, possess me with your marvelous fun little hauntings, sounds threatening but it is really just a little roller coaster ride, tied to the tops of mountains, bungee jumping, something as ridiculous as that can make a lifetime, and we, just sitting here, seem to be doing, just that

prescriptions are for the educated, for the ones who want to get high at the right times, like the water droplets, again, not cold showers all the time, but at the right times, the precise, times

fit for body, fit for mind, taking up few precious times,

times moving like the water falling down, the laughter between the cold droplets

and she's naked and her body bounces around the house

the coffee brews slowly, and I am in my leather jacket, still naked to the bone, my legs grounded in still malleable water, warm, yeah thats what I'd  use to describe it

***, followed by the relaxed primordial state, where signs and numbers and images and things seem less threatening, and the cold winds outside don't effect the warmth of a loving home.

feels like home, far away from home

and she's in her room working on her project, and I'm in mine, working on mine, and the coffee is brewing, and thats just fine

my mind wicked, my gut sickened with parallels

my heart sickened with


not willing to fight, held up in some sort of absurd

absurdidies, and powers adding up, having a voice, having a stronger voice than ever before

the stomach in knots, in knots

where to go?  how to defeat?  how to find?  encontrar?  don’t understand?

more beauty?  more virtue?  what exactly can I give you

the heart sick with mental illness, the heart anchoring into steam, into mercy, into help help help

not yours, this is mine, this is yours, do in time

love is true, love is smart, love is wise, or maybe not

some claim to have answers, but I am deafened, hit hit hit, loveer, lover, lover, hand it over!  now!  hit like jugular cancer, in the throat, no succcess, blown out of the river, blown out of the wayter, no turning back

my mind wicked, my gut sickened with parallels

my heart sickened with


not willing to fight, held up in some sort of absurd

absurdidies, and powers adding up, having a voice, having a stronger voice than ever before

the stomach in knots, in knots

where to go?  how to defeat?  how to find?  encontrar?  don’t understand?

more beauty?  more virtue?  what exactly can I give you

the heart sick with mental illness, the heart anchoring into steam, into mercy, into help help help

not yours, this is mine, this is yours, do in time

love is true, love is smart, love is wise, or maybe not

some claim to have answers, but I am deafened, hit hit hit, loveer, lover, lover, hand it over!  now!  hit like jugular cancer, in the throat, no succcess, blown out of the river, blown out of the wayter, no turning back


secrecy, secrecy, beyond anything we understand, behind backs

you're a spy, you're a communist, terrorist, haveyoumightcallit, whatyoumightunderstandit, outlet, let go of time, let go into the limitless pores, scores, scores, wins, only wins, or deaths, beheads, cutthroat cash collections, back to being broke again

you're through, you're in fever, fighting for life, fighting to see through to end, fighting for flight, only few days away but minutes, ticking by, hours turning to half days, turning to evenings, and the writings become even more menacing, silent standing ovations in spring

only for the kid, only for the man, the man, the man, the stimulation, for one more, one more, settling, settling,

holy one more holy holy please bless me, I'm drowning, its my mouth that wants to surface, with the flies,

none for you, none for those that dwell, you are *******

fever, fever in evening, in induced distress, put on the own self, put on without embrace, without surrender, muscles twitching, in the middle of night, disrupted, no humor, no seinfeld, no friends, no life

never finished, never done, a continuing one that wants to keep on going, that is hurting, that is immune to sarcasm, that wishes that it wasn't, wishing it could be closer to, rainfall
, wishing that it could be closer to release,

OF RELEASE, release me!!! I HELD your KEY

I've held it for so long, why must I continue to torment, suffer, why for so long?  hold me in your arms, embrace, to my core, I want to let go and sob, sob into the lap of time, its calling for me, as it has called for so many, why must I be depraved?  why must it continue on this way?

character styles, characters we’ve missed

attempted to put on pedestals

characters whose wits got them out of the worst situations

or whose worst qualities got them into the best ones

who have been balding and have ended up heroes

who have overcome obstacles, some

some who had less and and achieved more

but achievement seems to be the underscore, yes

of nationality?  of pride?  of masculinity?  of assertion?  hard to say

do we need more stories in more forms or fewer stories and more individuality, more self-awareness,

awareness, awareness, awareness, funny word thrown around a lot

do people even know?  most of the time they don’t, they are staring down at their shoes

or some characters are looking up at the sky

anyways, they don’t understand the issue, what is at stake, stop celebrating!  start studying!

or you are studying too much!  the wrong drugs, the right drugs!  too much of the right thing can make anyone go insane

or the other way around, the right amount of the wrong thing can make anyone go freely about their day,  and

achieve, back to that word

and what does it even mean?  to achieve something?  greater than yourself?  for yourself to be a reflection of that thing? or that thing to be a reflection of self?  

man, we could debate about this for hours, where’s my coffee?  or beer, or wine, your choosing

man, what did I have for breakfast, I honestly forgot

or no, it was toast and cofffee, yes I think its time for a stiff drink now

and then another hour to achieve something, to write something, to widdle something, to create something that was not there before

but some say GO, **!! BA HA!  to hell with objectivity, everything is recycled, nothing more

and they wave their hands about as if it was borrowed from a magician, and their hearts flare up with some sort of richeousness, and they achieve…rightness?

back to that again…achievement…what does it even mean?

with me

in my haunted fantasy ;)

frame it all
with me

in my haunted fantasy

lala la la la

*kicks can

and I let it out and said okay

and I made promises

to what extent does what comes out of my mouth actually have truth?  

what's the correlation between what we say and what we do?

the ideal chess set and the moves, the game plan and the...

truth, ****, it keeps coming back to that

a stoic is prisoner to it, and nietzche warns and warns again

but I'm not sure if Nietzsche ever loved a woman

other than his mother, no, love turns you into a truth seeker
and you're doomed to be a hero, sticking your neck out for nothing, for blows,

and it *****

wishing yourself better

wishing yourself cooler, calmer

the self is confused and hides

why is it hiding?  I ask those questions, which are the dangerous ones


will to power is an easy way out, but I read another piece that had a different explanation, the bible I think it was

and it had equal validity, it had me looking at things differently
and myself is the biggest scardy cat

I wonder what Nietzsche would say about that

I'll give you a few

why are we afraid of our own poo?

blah blah *******

I think I might have scared her away

somehow, and this is sitting in my stomach, won't digest, hurting

aching, like a coldplay song, extends through the bars, leading me to...bars

****, ****, this and that

afraid of ******* something good up, always afraid of that

like my life is a tender, gentle fabric, of brilliance, and my hands are hole punchers, synths, sythers, synthesizers out of key, constantly playing the wrong melody

and I have to repair every day, the wrong way

and nobody minds, its good and its fine

its all in my head?

or was it something I said?

off for its own business

the pipes are still working, this is always a good update,

I have my soldiers cap on, or perhaps a fedora,

anways, at least at least at least

sometimes personal amusement is the best therapy

like how I keep my foot just a few inches away from where the spider chose to carry on about his business

as if he might decide to pull back on his decision

as I do

over, and over again....

turns to silence, cold, quiet
lit, light it

too big for the lap, too impatient for this and that

then again, stone

made out of stone this week, un affected

resilient, but something is eating its way outside of me

what is it?  something that I've heard somewhere before

from a guy , from a lot of people, wish they had continued

but here I sit, here I go, shivers rolling down my spine, the plants moving in the wind

I'm done for, a goner

no the opposite, I am of stone

my mind cannot make itself up, the anxieties build up

there isn't an ending

there isn't one to be had

To Science,

explain to me with your null hypothesis, your few words
why I laugh at the absurd, why some things are appealing and others not
try to make sense of hysteria, of massive blotches and stains where everything else seems to be clean
how does your hooks and bounds creep its way into clawing tag lines that represent a point of view? are you disgusted by the reputation of your name? or does it not even bother you?
are you made of stone in giant archways or do we need to test that a few more times before we get a confirmation?
are your studies, which work to stay away from human bias, bound by academic approval anyway, and does this constant checkup bother you?
how does it feel? to be constantly under the microscope?
your mistakes are revelations! the biggest ones reap the biggest rewards and profit, what an achievement
science, just a few more questions, I don't mean to take up too much of your time, I can see your requirements are multiplying, saving lives, saving love! saving freedom! Romantic in politics and grueling for students, you must have spectacles with hundreds of different lenses
science, are you the ultimate language, or the anti-language? I'm perplexed! and curious

signed,

Muskrat

upside down

tried to let it be turn around

my porch is a little ferris wheel

and I curl up inside, and its a bit brisk

but thats alright, coffee is good

and so are deep breaths, but my mind, again

tangled round the telephone wires

there are a few things bothering me

but they emerge with a laughing track in the background, and I grin to myself

sober and straight thinking, a bit alert, a bit anxious, but present

my mothers so tired, tired tired

but she is trying, trying

going to spain to see my brother

everything seems to be fine

heading to new york to see my lover, my passion, she drives me mad

and I'm a lopsided man fiddling with a soup can, people can't **** straight

that's the **** of most jokes, that are told

and I laugh at those ones hard, but I laugh at myself hardest

kick back, take easy, take step, take stride, ***** up, in the ditch, dust myself off

dad said worry less

and he's right

therapist said try harder
and he has truth

truth has its way of working its way round the telephone wires, too

born out of birds creating their energy, born out of timeless time, jokes told over and over again

and I am sentimental, my friend

as I sip and stare off, not my joke but his, but we share it, laugh, and stare off

over and over again

frolicking in belief


working in every mixture, attempting to be pure

obsessed obsessed obsessed I am, with figuring out the question, my question any questions, of

answer, wanting of answer I am, la la la, la diddy ******* da


made up mind about half a billion things but three hundred billion more are multiplying out of the mixture


made plans to make more demands but met moving particules of mother *******

make me into more

make me into more

than what I was before

make me into more

than what I was before

I feel hopeless and helpless, and directionless, lead me to a door, lead me, I’m begging for answers, the opposite of daoism, of sheer individualism, perfect, to the core

help me escape from this maze, help me!  I need

make me into more

make me into more

what should I do with my life

not worry so much

I laughed, he laughed

he's in a rental car, he'll call me right back

start doing it

okay

that he was a black collared catholic

that he knew he was a sinner, and he would be washed away, and go back to sinning again

it made me think about his life

the way he said it, then talked about *******

the way he talked about ******* with love and his wife with love, and his scotch with love

and his faith with love

all perplexing me, going in too many directions, wishing that the anchor would fall somewhere, of sin

many who are good know that they sin
and my grandfather is a good man


but then he also said to me
with so much intensity
that I am a piece of cheese
for the audience
this is the diplomat, who called me the muskrat

and I said,

yes sir, yes sir

and I am so conflicted about that,

because he also said that his greatest regret is that he never tried to become admiral,

and in order to be admiral, one must have courage to stand up to authority, to be of authority, not of soldier, but of master

who is weak?  and who is right?

My Grandfather Said something today

and I'm thinking about it tonight

but I feel i've been cursed with seriousness

I watch jerry seinfeld,I think he is like a machine gun with his jokes, they fire

I watch grimes do her music video, I have watched it many times, it's brilliant in the background


modern, post modern, post post modern, post post post modern, end, the end, of the end, the morning, the beginning, unmodern, self-serving Ironcically, modern again, linear progression, circular progression,

swiss cheese.  

That's supposed to be a joke, but it isn't funny
why?  because I do not posesss that talent

or perhaps in seriousness I am the funniest person in the world

jerry told a joke about men believing they are super heroes in their own lives

I laughed, and I laughed, and I laughed

but now the joke is over and I am serious again

time, wine, time, wine,

I had an enlightenment, but then it wore off, like a drug wears off


just time, this time

okay, okay okay, got very high

and, yes, very worried about what my parents will do to me

very worried about how things will turn out,

the night was family, and the family was good

I gazed out the window on the drive home and listened to pearl jam

the turrents blasted between the hills, again

yes, I was there, again

yeah

whose getting played?

apparently women's minds

don't work in this way...

Men see hierarchies and

women see webs

this confuses me, as I try to maintain inner quiet, I can't help but to

bench the idea that I'm the one getting used, who uses, and whose getting *******

selectively cynical, my grandfather says...
its a clever thing to say

selectively optimistic, thats what my therapist says
what a wonderful thing to say

my perceptions, deceiving me, do I even believe in me?  

scurrying all over the place, the Muskrat gets tired too

tries to sleep in his nest, with johnny cash on the radio

hazing himself into oblivion, whens all this ever going to end?

processing power, no delays, high octane fury, filtered through a glorious glass hole, gaze and wonder with me, I'm somewhere that seems to be..further away, it was all allowed to happen, I took control of it, or let it go?  Honestly that thought perplexes me, I don't know, a whirl wind, I'm on a spaceship, reading to roosters, letting them give their crow,, allowing them to breath in deeply and cough when needed, its connecting on a stream, and the stream is nice and easy, It understands what it has control over and what it doesn't, gives In sometimes, but it lets the mind be deceiving for a second, then flows back in

Imagine the miccrochorsims, exploring their own roots deeply chaotic, deeply beyond, anything, I, don’t understand…..
Come with me on my digging adventure

Care to have a think?  I thinking not, thoughts through fixations

flick a cigarette and lick a split, you savaging *****, sensitivity of a ****

Come wardrobed with me in Narnia, waking with fixed hats, Wonderland, Haunted by petty notes, humorous haunting, actually amusing 
slaving over the machines, slaving over the rides,

I ensure you, I know how to have a good time

Raging with rambunctious rugrats, pleasant and fun, consuming hours, forgotten hours, fantasies are magic, to forget is perfect

love of saggatarius?  love of Scorpio?  Jupider and Mars?   your words that you thought meant something burn up in the wind, after a long bonfire, burn the ones we thought were vain, it all came from the same well, frame  them all,

frame all of them, in my haunted fantasy

love your point?  I love it too, I sign and I go with you, Love your thesis?  I thought it was interesting, lets come up with some counter arguments and I’ll let your string pull me towards you

Love your praxis?  your objective?  your target audience?  let them hear your rapsody, and hopefully they will live in a new way, their new truth that will get them through the day, their belief, that will hold their prayers, and loosen, affirm


Love your richeousness?  have, have it, and lay in the grass and look at the sky, wonder with reason, come up with a solution, emerge and go back to work

frame it all, I will frame it for you, then laugh and light my cigar, that’s what I’ll do, in my haunted fantsasy, come with me!  I’ll show you

FRAME IT ALL, FRAME IT ALL, FRAME IT ALL

Through the mist, guiding the passions, fading and breathing in, staining the walls with the smell, the dank fragrance, memories stick like fly paper, album covers, or ways of speaking, scents can be everything, shaping the way we remember, wafting in and chugging towards the center of something, perhaps for attention, for roominess, for attraction, on one hand the raunchy and the rancid, or on the other hand, romantic, only a very fine line between rustic and grutesque, create all these memories, a hybrid of sensualities work to create the memory, like a necklace worn all night, then left at the bedside, the lover inhales and again he is in heaven

onward onward, the sensualities creating our memories, good or bad,  but what about the expressionless? who have high ceilings, who don’t create memory?  who do not have sense? these have masks, masks meant for neautrality, masks made for actors moving through space, neutrality has its own unique sensitivity, diluted in sink water, smells like minerals, which makes us think of water, neutrality, the cleansing

onward onward, potent as **** in parks, sometimes you can’t distinguish between the potent plant and skat, and sometimes that can be difficult, dare to know the different strands, dare to be a master of wine, dabbling in notes that are sung with different feasts, wine, and bread, and cheese

taste, driving us onward onward onward, relativity, driven to the ends of the earth by distinctions, with fine lines, onward onward, sifting through the mist, attempting to get a waft of the best of it

there was the right, sort of intoxication, the right concoction, the morning started with commotion, with worry about this and that, but was resolved really quickly, like a swift kick of a crying cat, I'm ready for a new day, I polished my hair and brushed my teeth, I won't forget where I came from, but ******, cold shower its a new day

enchanting!  take my family and our end of the day, the penetrating orange, just seen over the trees, sink into me, my restless feet, bouncing around looking for the next song, I cannot compete with your elegance!  your perfection!  seep into the sleepy lives of silicon valley and help them rest after a long day of unnerving, dropping, droppings, set backs, camps to get across, new days ahead, help them sleep ribbons, help them sleep

signed,
seany

The state of the union says a lot, nothing political

the oscars say very little, everything about it is political

to war?  to not war?  to not risk lives?  

it breezes through the plants, its on top of the little lamp posts sticking out of the tanbark, breathed into the lungs on the bikerides, the dog walking

that fresh silence, the music in the movie where the glances are lit up with darkness in the background

yeah, the people get their new from the comedians, then the comedians drop out at the end for activism, grassroots soaking up coffee loaded with cream and sugar

to lean left or to lean right?  to want to remain the same, or ready to put up a fight?  

my jacket sinks into my skin and my rear sinks into the chair, and the world stirs, whirlwind of expressions, whirlwind of expectation, the individual needs self empowerment, however the individual needs the connection

the uncertainty in the air, there it is, and the answer is to sit back, relax, and watch the big fiasco commence

yes