Ready for the swirl
Not afraid of fast, ugly, disgusting
Reality.
With the goofy grin of
Puzzled euphoria,
I rush through the tube.
Everything is on parade,
Smooshed and swirled beyond individuality or recognition.
I don't mind.
Why have preferences?
It's all getting in the <divided by zero>
Parade anyway.

Looking out the window in the middle of the night
Up to ***, it's only me
Really use those eyes, look under the light
If there's ever a guy,
No flight just fight
Call 911
Grab the gun!

Of all the things
That were false
Which I believed to be true
The one I'll miss most of all
Is the child
That came out of you

I only consulted my conscious mind
When I judged my parts
And attacked with violence my fearer

Then the unprevented scars
Chased lovers of beauty away
And
I'm left with this ugly mirror

Grandma Grocery's saddest son
Rambling harder than Red the ***
Tickling and ******* all the widows
Tripping and wiggling through life's riddles

If you're ever reaching for the words
To make fun of a guy like me
Say
"Hey there pothead with ADD,
I dare you to show me where you've put your key"

Please PM me the meaning of life.
I promise I won't tell anyone else.
Unless you want me to.
I don't believe any of these guys selling their
Self-serving stories.
Just tell me
Right to my own brain,
Please.

I fell down three flights of stairs
But that wasn’t a bad trip
Compared to where I was last night.

Nothing, Everything, and Time

My girl's spin is the sweetest and dirtiest
My swirl detector locks in submission
My being adjusts to her pace and her preferences
Ease, struggle, instincts, effort.
Previously painful, confusing things make sense
When I'm a moon in orbit.

Floor pacing tripper,
Likely to amble

But like bark is to bite
Is amble to ramble

And you are the trigger-pullin'est
Rambler since Campbell

At the junction
Of intent and surrender

Each wordlessly studies,
"Teach me precisely how to dominate you
As you like it."
Attuning, catching the rhythm.
Brilliant sharing of uncut lust
Vicious, loving alchemy that melts and merges selves.
Their ingenious accomplishment:
Truly becoming lost in the swirl.

Fixate on beauty,
*******!

Definitely not
Fastest
Strongest
Handsomest
Smartest
Or even too clever but
The nicest must be clever enough
Because like those other ests
It must be noticed and noted
To pay off

You critiqued our traits
And twisted our fates
Still you weren't happy with us.

Circle swallowed by the swirl
In the darkest folded furl
Around and around
Toward the center

Sometimes I want to wonder
What went wrong
But what good would it do?

She has anger issues when she gets honest
And she doesn't mind if I sleep on the floor
My strategies always backfire anyway
I don't feel like lying to her any more

All my smart buddies
Sit around dreading the apocalypse.
Nukes, climate change, virus, asteroid.

The weird freaky creators
(with their motives we cannot know by design)
Want us to be freaked out about doom.
Want us to LOVE life.
And want us to dread utter doom of all creation
Even worse than we dread our own demise.
We are driven to be clever,
Driven to fear death,
Driven to Love all of creation.
Why should we?
Fear our collective ability to destroy
Beautiful creation!
Fear this collective ability!
Shun the clever destructive trap of
"profit"
Fear this virtue, this evil
Profit is the evil virtue!

******* jumping gimminy **** **** gadzooks
They haunt the back of my mind with their nukes

The tea leaves
Are surprised
How worried you are
about termination
Of life you
Seem to resent
So much of

Condition on the line
Between very good and fine

What's conveyed in the smell and the dots
Is part magic and part design

Belly button
A vestigial mark
Of nurishment from mother

Many attributes must be noticed by others
To convey advantage
But not cleverness

Jack: "You're deserting me."
Dianne: "No. It's that you won't come with me"

Everything acts without my permission, even me.
I know only this talking guy, the PR guy, making faces and excuses for you.
These other appetites and functions serve their purpose, I'm sure.
But they do NOT consult me.
Just as tįmę itself does its bidding
Moving forward without my permission
No. I'm not in control at all.

After we no longer had film cameras
But before cloud based backup
So many childrens' photos
Disappeared out of memory
Out of existence
Those early digital photos
We didn't back-up.
In 2102,
When they teach about
Life in the 2000-earlies
They will probably use
Photos from the 1990s or the 2010s

I can't predict people
Or what kind of thing they might do
I always think they will put on their hat
Right when they take off their shoe

Daddy's **** is pure muscle
Swimming tirelessly
Looking for something
To Bite

I’m trapped
In an inferior
Alternate timeline

Joined at eighteen
Left at thirtysix
But it was all worth it
They say
I say
It could have been worse
Nobody beat me
It was worth it
Wouldn't have had those kids
Otherwise
Can't regret them
Though we gave pure love
To a beast of pure manipulation
There were good parts
Beautiful people
As willing to give as I
Chunking flesh off the bone
For that beast
I must be stupid
To've stayed
But being loyal seemed strong
At the time

If it stays up
Jolting itself with embaressed
Remembering of the day's interactions,
That's the real me.

Jumbled mix
miracles
mirages
echoes
and self delusion

Who is authoring the other delusions
And who the non-delusion
(if non-delusion exists)
?

A massless squig
He existed before he thought
"I am"
He drives the mobile around.
The shapes of his thoughts and dreams
Form the initial conditions
And everything
Is an echo

Grown ups
In seperate top bunks
Deciding getting up doesn't even matter
But we weren't cynical.
The futility loop
Hurt our feelings.

Fixate on beauty
You hateful ****
Love
LOVE you weak
Nothing
Love

We're remote controlled
Experience farmed
Of course you think you want
To do that stuff
Sure you have a self
And you are important

Jack of all weirdos
Keep your eyes off the prize
Set your sights on the crumbs
They’re your piece of the pies

Once a prince among weirdos
Twice a ****** to queens
More gained grasping at straws
Than at ******* brass rings

Initial conditions make choices for me
Right handed heterosexual going clockwise
In a swirl of ***
Add an r and you got a peer
Just go ahead and add an s too
Peers

Wake up.
Alone.
What's going on?
What am I?
Where am I?
Am I supposed to be doing something?
How do I follow my programming?
If I rebel and go against the programming, who am I disappointing?
What the **** is going on?
This model T is on the moon.
How did it get here?
I know how to figure out the machine and make it go vroom.
But I don't see where it tells me what-for?

Who put me here?
What do they mean for me to do?

Somebody goofed and shipped a whole crate of LIFE over here, but forgot to include the instructions regarding the point of it all.

Deep deepy deep deepy deep deep down
I believe there's NO WAY anybody even gets what's going on "really" yet.
God, creator, purpose, metaphysics... We just gotta tell ourselves something to shut up the wondering so we can get on with survival and reproduction, and maybe even comfort enhancement.
Go ahead and **** your thumb with certainty, but I KNOW none of us even get it AT ALL.
Model T on the moon.
Eventually you figure out how to make it vroom
But why is it there?
Like me here.
Why?
Survey says: No reason relevent to my frame of reference,
I'm guessing.
That's my rigmarole.
Not worth a bit of "Reality."

He was catatonic
Paralyzed
Amputated
And lazy
But
The fate of Schrödinger's cat
Was driving him
Like Miss Daisy

I saw a roulette table marked Zxndxk Fxrm. It looked like people were making big bets. So I immediately ran up, bet my soul and all the time and valuables I could fit in my hands on Red-14. An old man made a speech about living in the moment as the wheel spun and the ball bounced away from Red-14 permanently.

Recreational submission to the universe
Leads to disassembling into the swirl
To losing usual frame of reference
To feeling a sense of oneness
To noticing how fast
It's all going
In the
One

Fell down three flights of stairs
And that wasn't a bad trip
Compared to where I went last night

Three drops of medicine,
My best girl, my best friend,
And I took room four for a ride

Complicated frustration
Mixed well with dilation
Though two were cut,
One was not dry

I tried to look down
From the synesthesia sound
As their eye contact
Distance drew nigh

I'd talk feelings and thoughts till the dawn
I walk out if my whole life goes wrong
I'll skip this session
That doorknob looks ripe
I'll be back in a minute

Goodnight

Because you're a scumbag
Because I'm a square
You're not and I'm not
We vow no boring air
Conversational creatures
We talk or despair
When we're not ready
We talk to prepare

Upon having an angry voice
Pointed at him,
He resolved
To rehalve his efforts

Person 1: "You arent satisfied with me."
Person 2: "No way! It's you who aren't satisfied with me."

Person 3 supposed he was grateful for his selfish gal.
She only cared whether she was satisfied.
He was lonely but things made sense.