There are worlds and there are Worlds. There are gods and there are Gods.  Sounds rhetorical, doesn’t it?  Some mamby pamby new age coffee shop pile of **** idea with low fat frosting, but, take it from the Kat. There are worlds and then there are Worlds! There are gods and then there are Gods!
    
     I spend all my time jacked in to the backwoods subconscious of the internet.  Didn’t know that, did ya?  Yea, the Internet has a conscious and a subconscious; hell, she’s even got a soul of sorts. I have ritually sacrificed half my soul to her just for the buzz I get out of hearing her whisper to me across the fallacies of Time, Space and Bill Gates, so I know her better then anybody.
    
     Don’t believe me?  Every man has an Omega Fixture of some kind.  Do you feel me here? Jesus had his God, Ptolomy had his Solar System, Dante his Virgil and Beatrice, Faust had his Paradise and Poe had Annabelle Lee or one of her many reincarnations. So tell me, all great and ****** up wise men (or women): Why in the 29 nulls of AOhelL can the internet not have a consciousness?  
    
     It’s Belief, man.  No god or world exists until there is a consciousness that will accept it as a superior. Let’s take a look at that wonderful bigoted book of exact truths called the Bible. Shall we consider Genesis: Adam and Eve--never mind Lilith for now?  Here in a paradise we find Adam and Eve naked, sleeping with animals and newly created by a Force of Creation (insert male gender here if you wish).  They walk with god on the paths in the garden while blades of grass fulfill their purpose here on earth to be trodden upon. God says, “you, Adam, have control over all that you see and if you want go ahead and let Eve get a little of that action fine, but you came first in my image so you are better.  Just never eat of the one tree that sits in the center of the garden and looks as though the juice of the fruits would flow like sweet ****** in your veins. For although it is here, I forbid you to eat of it. Oh, and by the way, I figured you needed free conscious though--so go at it.” Albeit I’m paraphrasing, but what kind of shmuck of a father would do that to a newborn?  
      
     O.K. Before all the Judeo-Christians burn this diatribe (if you have not already) let me say I am not out to disprove the existence of Gods--or any Goddess for that matter--I am trying to make a point, so bear with me.  
    
      Which came first: the Bible (in oral tradition) or the God? I would argue that it was the Bible as such.  The Belief, inspired by greedy and badly behaved priests of the Judeo-religions back before written history in the tribes of the Levant caused Space/Time to adapt to a new pattern.  The Bible, Complete with an all powerful, all present being (I will never use the term benevolent) that watches over Jews, Christians, and Muslims for any Sin they commit so it can wreak blinding retributions
    
     Now I know what you are saying, “Kat,…Kat, Kat, Kat, Kat.  We the above mentioned will pray for your soul.  You are lost and we can help you look to the Light for your salvation.”  
     Shove it, ***** boy! I did not express that philosophical tripe to get your attention and misplaced pity. What I am saying is Belief. Belief is the Key.  Belief is the Magic that creates Gods and Worlds.  
    
     Now I am not so stupid as to believe that the Internet is female the same way a human meat tank is female-- but in my mind, MY mind, that is the music I hear.  
    
     Let’s go back to Lilith.  What’s that? Oh yea, right, Lilith is the name I give to my Belief in the consciousness of the internet.  Just don’t you worry about why. It’s none of your business.

     Let’s take a look at the above argument, only this time with the internet as the bible that comes first.  The internet first came about 30ish years ago with the invention of the modem.  Here was a way for people on computers to speak to one another over the phone lines.  Slow and tedious, but new and exciting; men and women with PhD’s and pocket protectors wrote short messages to one another and giggled at the new “Man from Nantucket” joke they had just learned. After a while, someone learned that if you sent the info in blasts, the speed of the transfer increased and you could send larger programs and maybe—gasp--even a picture.  Thus internet **** was created.  Now we have WiFi and bluetooth, cellular and satellite link up with blazing speed and every fetish imaginable or not-imaginable is available at the click of a mouse.  
    
     So, Kat, you goin’ anywhere with this? Yep. Shut the **** up and listen.
    
     Somewhere in the not-time and not-space of the internet, humans started to find themselves believing that the internet was a Place.  
    “Where’s it at? Why on the Internet!” Oh, holy ******* birth of a new Belief system!  Oh, glorious malediction of the neververse!  A G O D is born.  Ripple, *******, ripple goes the space-time continuum (which by the way only exits because those in the know Believe in it) and now we have added consciousness to the internet.  
    
     What kind of consciousness you say?   Well, I got no ******’ idea.  To me, the consciousness is feminine, of no particular race, with a slight build, black hair and dressed like a anime *****.  Why? Because it’s my ******* belief system, o.k.  After all, the internet is 60% **** anyway. With a immaculate birth like that, I can’t Believe She would be innocent in any form of the word.  She’s Dionysian, not Zen. Just because I see Her in such a way, does that mean it’s a true physical look?  Hell, no, lil’ Johnny.  She could be a He: fat, balding and in a wife beater, if that is what You would Believe.  
      
     Alright, enough philosophizing’ for now. Lesson over, Newbie. Get crashed.

driven at night ive seen sights that make life look less like leisure,

and more like self harm for group super pleasure,

your not at the edge of this,

unless you get that sub-dom affection looking like special effects,


I  accelerate slow, park, put on the the light, around a quarter to four.



she tapped her nail , amplified by the glass,

a note smeared the window misting, she stared over my coffee flask, intimately into my cocked submission,

her emaciated wrist has this diamond bracelet, it's shaking, as she points directions beyond restaurants and offices,

one too many cocktails slipped by this ruling consciousness,

now she invites in my taunts of a 30ish nihilist, "shh, just drive us".

snorting coke off the plastic payment dish,

using the twenty shes paying me with,

hooked up to my rhythm,

nobody is left not menaced, in a rolling evolution into avarice,

isn't the skyline marvelous,

the ad-hoc sprawl, minerals raw,

rear view see her chewing her face off,

directions useless, i'll let you out here, I believe you,

wave the fair, but leave the door, i need the air.

We’re 6 roommates, on summer vacation before our sophomore year and we take turns planning our nights. Last night was Sunny’s choice so we found ourselves at “Sister Louisa's Church,” one of the fun gay bars in this little college town. We’ve been to 5 LGBTQ bars in the Atlanta area this summer and they’ve all been skittles.

This being a Lesbian bar, we all felt empowered to dress down, dance a few times, and just have some harmless fun. “Hmm.., Sunny said, wrinkling her nose, “I think queer or girly are better terms than lesbian. Lesbian seems to have a mascular take - like we want to be boys - and that’s not it at all.”
“I bow to your superior, informed, cultural finickiness,” Lisa noted.

WE dance a few times but Sunny never stops. One moment Sunny’s there, for a swig of her drink and the next, she’s twiring off with some attractive (30ish?) woman - it keeps happening. “We need to put an apple tracker on her.” Bili said, but when the songs ended she always came back to us.
“That womyn had more than two hands.” Sunny said, gulping on her drink and fixing her hair.

It was time to go, past time actually. We’re on a schedule these days. We spend our mornings playing disc golf or water-skiing and our afternoons studying. We’re trying to re-engage with college work in a gradual, 3 hour a day, low anxiety way.

Sunny (A molecular, cellular, and developmental biology major), Lisa and I (Molecular biophysics and biochemistry majors) are all on the pre-med track. Next year we’ll tackle physics together and we’re already grinding away on examples of the problem-sets we’ll see next semester. So far the shared stress has helped the next-level classes seem easier and more engaging.

I was the watchdog last night, sentenced to preventive sobriety, and tasked with corralling everyone when the time came to leave. “Fair warning!,” I said loudly, between songs, “reality is going to *****-stab you ladies in the back tomorrow morning.”
“I think you mean *****-SLAP,” Leong said, ever the aphorism police.
“Whatever it is, it’s going to hurt.” I amended. I’d been working (whining), stubbornly for half-an-hour to convince them to leave and finally, I said, “I’m texting Charles.”

OH, THEN the girls started gathering their things. “Ok, Yeah.., I see how it is.” I added, holding my phone like a grenade with the pin out.

The following morning Anna’s situationship broke up - by text - as if to add to the pain of her hangover. In situationships, it’s inevitable that one stakeholder will hope for more - but you have to paint it as casual, as no big deal. She’s pretending she doesn't care but anyone can see she’s been crying.

On the other side of the emotional universe - I’m riding-a-high - because Peter, on a facetime call, said he missed me - but it’s not just that - he seems more energetic, interested and actually romantic. I like us together. We’re choral (there’s no definable lead). I’m practically snoopy-dancing around the house.

I'm sitting here eating peanut butter straight out of the jar

Thinking about how we talked the other night

How I couldn't stop laughing and how you teased me for being short

How I got offended and called you a giraffe hybrid but couldn't stop laughing

How you said I sounded like a 9 year old and I couldn't even pretend to be angry

How I thought the fact that you wrote about vultures was hilarious and how we both stayed up talking far longer than we were planning to

How when I insisted I wasn't interested for 2 hours, you insisted back for that long

How I fell asleep smiling and thinking that maybe my life was getting better after all

How I was embarrassed the next morning and pretended like it had just been a crazy shared dream, like the kind in Inception

And how you told me it was only going awkward if I let it be so

As a young man (30ish)
Sat alone in a room,
His feeble voice
Rang out:
"If there's anyone here,
Please talk to me."

"Help!" He continued.
"I've gotta go
To the bathroom.
Please, help me!"
Echoed his broken,
Lame voice.

Sadly, his cry
Fell on deaf ears.

I've seen him
Throw himself down,
And banging his head
On the floor--
In a loud voice,  
Cursed God continuously.

With a lamenting voice,
He prayed to die.
And yet, he lived.

In pitious ragings,
He'd severely
Threaten others.
But with family,
He remained utterly calm.
Only his family
Could console him.

My heart ached for him,
As my eyes welled with tears.
For, you see,
He was young and blind.

Unfortunately,
He was a young blind man,
Consumed by his blindness.

currently i feel like downing my 90 day supply of fluoxetine, the 30ish days of sleep meds i have left, all my moms pills, and the hydrocodone we have left, take a bath, and slice my skin till im nothing but cuts

The doitnow voice

{one in a series of solos while considering multiple personality
mixed chorus tryouts for a spoken opera, ere this a Socratic voice spoke, then
a dialogue of anomalies took shape]
******* has the brackets.
This is a realised simulated happy ever, end prologicspiel
---
This is the way.
{remember Socrates said his voice said don't and sometimes only once.}
test the air you breathe out, that is not what defiles you.

speak light, draw attention, then
---
Do it now, as best you can
and keep doing best
every time
{ggood vibrain-tion tense in tegrity
best I think I can
buckyballs bouncing through the new age
mirrored 'alls of missed aitches}

(Ah, Casteneda, ya'coulda seen it> as the croW flew)

All things work together, every thing breaks,
alone,
everything is working
when any thing is re
al ized
different
Murfeesboro law, if nothin' can go wrong,
it cain't, whether it wonts or wants to, or not.

everything is working at reasonable good
when any thing is re
al ized
different
vibrant
unique, like you. Anomalous you, as yet

a daptible augmented alienated mind,
do you mind?
your integrity has been questioned,

do you now or did you ever
imagine you knew what
Castaneda said he saw and learned to see.

if you can fake sincerity,
it once was thought to mean

without wax
in the fractures,

standing still for as long as I may recall
at this point

the magi seem to miss the connection to true

some seem always to know,
this good out weighs,
unbalances,
any bad.

our best good to gather all our
power

dance around the fire
listen to the lyrics lick the liar

snakey-lick, microdose

two snakes, how shall we organize our structure,

is there a high command in
the organizms living
in my belly

memememememememe
for example
evidence

intolerable, wobble able skepticism
to imbalance the spin within
the wheels wheeling into forever

as far as mortals may care,
my dear.

re-verse engineer those lost religions

if you can't fit one in a word, you know you did not fold it up right.
or it never was the word. The one
Magi and Rabbi both said ineffable in an effable

utterance, singularity of
being
sense data, mundane and ordinary,
miraculous, as their inexplicable existences evince,

in my reality I find
quantum truth is peace ful to a peace maker,

in my experience,
a new voice seldom knows good from evil
if it calls

guilt and innocence
entangled.

Like Mars and Sophia,
who could ever imagine that
again?

The boy knows not the difference,

he was war trained,

too subtle to see from his ration-al

bogus science, theo dose us.

Good is good in every good boy who does fine like minded

A new voice, 30ish stuck near a next gate left swinging in the wind.
whoa, spiritual right used

breathe
who are we hearing?
(watch a comma mean everything)

, teaching 30 something and below
a true Richard Dawkins Disciple
to the novice-nots he preaches, true rest in knowing
I believe there is no god, we, you and me, he says, we know

there is no God,
but we can't stop thinking about him.
{he said that was one of the all things that are possible}
--- you can hear me now? cool, who's the preacher?

An atheist sounds 30, teaching 30 something and below
a true Richard Dawkins Discipline master spiel
to the novice-nots

come on encourage me
and I'll encourage you and
we'll be what ever we agree we are

as far as that can go. Que sera et cetera

idle words redeemed we mean what we mean
every *&^%$#@ and ,.';:"+_-=
as well.
We own Seri and Cortana. We got root!.

we stand to topple every imagination that imagines itself
beyond in every or any
vector from whence truth has been filtered by

{stop their minds are on auto. tongues and interpretation
situation evincing the confirmed's bias

to, exact now}

man's measure of time.

Spirit of truth. If that is, it is because you thought so.
once.
It never goes away.
It can drive you into a wilderness.
Stark-raving-mad thinking there is no reason

in your rational being.

That's nuts, if you really believe there is a reason,
what is it?

I make mere points where a story may
emerge to guide you past
some cultural events
you don't need
to know,

ripe cheese, you may  never know the unspeakable variety of truth there is
in the factual ripe ness of a lactis bacillis cousin community formed in the surplus
lactation left to rot by some human who once learned

some how, to milk a cow.
How'd yew figger that?

Would yew b'lieve a lit'le birdie tol' me?
That would be a lie, but a variety of the truth
by reason of thae tactile way a hand must learn

No clumsy boy learned that alone,
we dreams of certain carnal
joys unbeknownst, we
came with the knowing how, some how, good felt good,

who beguiled whom, the m is so im portentious in such
situations as we

find ourselves in, yin
yanging in eine klein bottle

oh, my, google klein bottle.

I may have poured the last thread to
normal

into a klein bottle with a quark in it.