I scribble on
With a half lobotomy;
A radar seeking Hell by looking up
And another dictionary
From another time and place;
An alternate timeline
Reaching right and left
As well as fore and aft;
The beard of a ******
And naïveté too;
Undiscovered depths of emotional manipulation
Unseeing, unthinking,
A new old structural familiarity
To abduct and probe
The time-honored, vacuum-sealed
Ineptitude of ideology
Whose meat is sweet
But suits the skeletons of standardized educational theories
Like a pair of jeans at age eleven that you expect to grow into;
In hope of justifying
Overuse of monetary resource
For the sake of bonus states of mind;
Scouring the depths of discarded everything
With hooks catching on to all the similarly forgotten names
Who live in fear of obscurity
Clinging, not unlike insects
To their sixteenth minute of fame;
Finding in myself no way but out
To understand that which lives inside;
With disregard for any thread which weaves past me and takes no hold,
And loathing for the ones that do but unravel before the eyes;
Lightheaded, ending any sense of continuity
When, prostrate in the comfort of another tapestry
I stand abruptly, let my dreams be drained from me through tendrils
Like the passing of a temporal existence;
Drinking in the dust and glue of crowded bookshops
In fear of losing inspiration
To the insatiable jaws of my consumerist natural state;
Rummaging in a bargain bin
In search of someone to tell me, “Stop!"
With heads in clouds and bodies in ice trays,
Stealing lines of logic and lyric,
Throwing down and hacking into
Elemental bits which fit into my own vernacular
Sacrificing beauty for originality and vice versa;
Choosing idols idly with the tides
Of knowledge and of art
Rising and falling without fail
Never apparent and never blurred by motion;
Searching for a style like an odd-numbered jean size;
Finding greater inspiration in waves of unopened mysteries;
Following examples laid by unsuccessful fictions;
Learning ethics only from the prologues of ****** novels,
Unsuspecting victims snuffed in interesting and lurid ways;
Letting technological distraction detract from the projections of psychological complexity
Which I, from atop the high horse of my own pretensions
Pretended to embrace;
Committing massive acts of thievery, fraud, and infinite lethargy
For the sake of juvenile, illegitimate art forms;
Seeking other seekers who exist autonomously
For the sake of personal independent credibility;
Leading unsuspecting, overreaching, overeating, understanding, undemanding,
Too forgiving, not forgetting,
Victims of domestic warfare
To a loveless watery grave
For the sake of my own loneliness;
Patronizing every segregated buffet
With courage enough only for a small taste of everything;
With the flavors of the day swirling around
For me to shoot them down
And pin their carcasses to elementary school walls
And Mormon tool sheds
And nature centers
And all the forgotten places of summers past
In the hope of rediscovering
Some old buried treasure
Be it wondrous or worthless;
With the uneasy insincerity of a rodent who pretends to understand a city;
With adopted methods
And repeated thoughts
And ideas which came to me in waking dreams of my own retirement;
Sharing, for a captive audience,
The formidable giants which
Inform our common denominator
Searching through myself for only the most indecipherable
With the fear of being understood
And the fear of being ridiculed
And pretensions of some preternatural predetermination for greatness;
With acceptance of predisposition for obscurity,
The cost of the inundation of the new airwaves.
The series of tubes that feed us intravenously
With information, information, information,
Having killed God and left material validation in His wake;
It could be that new gods are born in the minds of the innovators,
Those wonderfully wealthy
Whose social structuralism
Was a beacon to us all;
In the darkness of an architectural anomaly
Where lights extinguish as my body lies dormant
Alone and abandoned
Only by my own subversion;
Confined ever to a convolution of passages
While above me all my peers still carry on;
Overstaying welcomes
And letting emotionality
Color conversation
A sicklier green,
A green of a tree only just sprouted,
A green of a new recruit,
A green of an inexperienced schoolboy
Faced with the daunting and timeless act
Of copulation;
Somehow taking in the sights and sounds and smells
Of advanced mathematics
Even occupied, as I am,
With explaining my actions
Most eloquently;
Devoting myself to another cause,
Another, another, another
Always relaxing my grip by losing focus;
Desperately hoping not to let my fellow travelers
Lose their innocence
While I reluctantly, dogmatically
Keep mine on a leash;
Always keenly aware
Of the universe of worlds
Beyond my control,
And even my understanding;
On the increasingly frequent
Intrusions of risk
Into my significant reality
And the iota of explainable truth which guides the motion of my body but most frequently my mind;
Questioning the meaning of all words
Without thought or coordination;
Considering another restful journey
To clear my mind of human language
And in its place acquire thoughts and emotions from the street;
Without foreseeable direction,
Malice aforethought
Or noticeable signs of critical reaction
Giving birth to litter
Forgetting articles
And floating my sense of time up the Ganges;
Taking only seconds to counter the possibility of
Accepting more responsibility for myself;
Complicating matters with an interesting or bitter goodbye.

WORDS GANG STALKERS DO NOT WANT TO HEAR

The first, of course, is the “G” word. No explanation necessary.

GANG STALKING

VIGILANTE

The gang stalking recruits are of course being recruited into a cult for the purpose of carrying  out vigilante activity. As we all know the same authorities who “do not have the resources” to protect you from burglars, gang intimidation, vandalism, mugging, ****** assault, etcetera, are not short of resources to deal with the least whiff of vigilantism, as people desperately try to protect themselves. The recruiters of course do not wish their recruits to be reminded that they are engaging in vigilante behaviour, so I remind them at every opportunity.

CULTS

The methods the recruiters use are classic cult methods. The recruit is told lies while their emotions are manipulated; they are not told the true agenda of the cult they have been tricked into joining; they are given targets to hate and vent their frustrations on; they are enslaved and over time leached of all their resources; their children will also be indoctrinated and used. People know joining a cult is a bad thing. So at all costs the recruiters wish to keep the idea of cults away from their recruits. Again, I make a point of reminding them.

CON ARTISTS

Another word/concept the recruiters want the recruits to forget. Again, another rich source of conversation with a gangstalker.

COVERT WAR
A major tool in the gangstalkers weaponry is successfully keeping the practice of gang stalking a secret. Most people not being stalked and many who are have never heard the term gangstalking and do not know what it means – a major Orwellian coup. Getting the word out is a major difficulty. From this point of view the words – covert war – are hated by gang stalkers. Both words, and especially in combination attract peoples notice and naturally induce them to read further.

FAIR GAME (Scientology)

Remember the film “Fair Game”. Odd title don’t you think when the story line had nothing to do with Scientology. The story based on fact about the betrayal of a CIA agent betrayed by her own government.

Gang stalkers do not like mention of Fair Game because the methods of Fair Game and gang stalking are identical. The existence of Fair Game tactics are acknowledged, but the response of authorities to gang stalking is to assert dogmatically that gang stalking does not exist and any who claims it does need the help of a psychiatrist.

MAFIA

The authorities do not wish people to be reminded of the Mafia. Many gang stalking methods and Mafia methods are identical, particularly the diverse rackets both gang stalkers and Mafia engage in. Infiltration of legitimate businesses, exploitation of labour, housing scams, protection money, and controlling people such as medical personnel who can make ” mistakes” in medical treatment, or an office worker who can “lose” or corrupt private data.

STASI

If the STASI were not the creators of Zerzetsen, they were the world’s foremost practitioners – a massive state spying apparatus which created as many spies as citizens. Gang stalking and Zerzetsen are identical.

dailykos.com/story/2010/10/12/909826/-ZERZETSEN-TORTURE…

WORDS THAT GANG STALKERS WANT EVERYONE TO HEAR

SCHIZOPHRENIA

After the primary objective of gang stalkers to keep awareness of gang stalking from public knowledge is the secondary objective to ensure that if anyone comes across the concept of gang stalking or targeted individuals it will be immediately linked with insanity. The purpose of gaslighting behaviour is to make the person on the receiving end look insane.

actually, one thing rings true
from freudian theory,
the Madonna-***** complex,
which i find to be superior
to the Oedipus complex,
for reasons testified by experience:
a girl outside the profession
of prostitution gave me unease
to provide an *******,
yet a girl within the profession
gave me no problem giving me an
*******, yet not adequate subject matter:*

if only my sleeping eyes could see
into the world of the living,
if only my living eyes could see
into the world of the dead,
if only my dead eyes could peer into
the world of either: and not interpret dreams
and not dogmatically assert a passing
of thought from body and into soul
as a necessary hindsight of cyclic revisionism
of history to be ****** to a repeat:
a napaoleon a ****** Gemini in russia:
equally failed.

time to fill the "holes": as||the||words||come||with||these||sort||insertion||points.

rich­ard rojcewicz translated the original
german, mind you:
this book costs over £30.00 if bought
in mint condition...

"psychology" in the sense of "projection" of everything onto "lived experience" has grasped contemporary humanity with such completeness that only | the step into the transformation of humanity can still suffice to survey the entire omnipotence of "lived experience". the "biological" way of thinking not only fails to break this sovereignty of "psychology" but even strengthens it by making it cruder and all the more available to everyone. thi way of thinking also shifts all "work" into the atmosphere of the exudation from peoples and personages. every presupposition for the possibility of the effectuation of an actual work disappears thereby - for a work indeed precisely effectuates - if it is effective - a displacement into the wholly other space it itself grounds. *but all lived experience is antagonistic to such displacement and even to the claim in favor of it. "lived experience" appeals tacitly to "the" certain "life", the one that is certain of itself and of its incontestable measures and regions. and in relation to all this, what is more "actual" than such "life", which today takes good care that people are enthralled by it? the exalting of "life" to "all-encompassing life: ["alllebeb"] is at once arbitrary and thoughtless. nietzsche shows how disastrous this exaltation can become, nietzsche who is as far removed from biologism as| his biological physiological way of thinking, in its manner of expression, seems to confirm the opposite.

   (page 307, indiana university press, 2016, first edition,
     published in german, 2014,
      martin heidegger - gesamtausgabe 94:
        überlegungen ii-vi (schwarze hefte 1931 - 1938)

one hand holding a book,
the other "typing" like any near to be retired
general practitioner might use a computer:
crow-pecking rather than typing...

what i originally extracted from this passage
escapes me, now...
but i can attest to some sort of vague
extraction of an unaltered original
extraction -

   people these days, speak of a certain
type of, infallible zenith -
   all the arguments seem infallible for
a certain proportion of people:
esp. those that don't goof around with
"ridiculous" propositions...
  mighty annoying crap...
               and yes, certain argumentations
are not available to everyone,
   harder to find a decent carpenter in western
europe, than it is to find a makeshift tent
of gamers, and "rebel"... sorry...
"original" atheists...
   ******* can't even commit the original sin...
whatever the hell that is...
  but it's in plain sight when these *******
start yapping, and slurping
        whizzed doughnut mush with a handful
of m & ms: for zee, added crunch...
  
  and yes, that also implies a "certain" life
when reshaped into revision of the rereading
approach on the musing...
  i think i applied the misnomer aphorism to these
extracts, i'm more than certain that i have...
i don't like the aphoristic certainty principle -
where it is and must, be, dogmatically a truth,
a worthwhile observation...
   come to think of it:
  
   the more disorientating a piece of writing is,
the more engaging it becomes,
for there are no formal rules, only informalities
that satiate, if there is no real beginning,
as there is no real end,
     it's the middle that answers -
and to be honest, the more disorientating a piece
of writing is, the less the chance of
tedium, a bit like being bit by a poisonous spider:
you start gesticulating the "ability"
to weave a psychedelic web of sporadic interests...

most of the time: i'd prefer for most aphorisms
to tell me a lie, than tell me the truth:
so i can engage in an experiment that allows
me to reveal the truth: and see
eye-to-eye, naked, thanks to an observation
falsified...
   no, you see, the idea of falsification of a truth
is to allow people to see: eye-to-eye,
to make their own mind, to allow the spontaneous
spark, a gratitude of instinctive curiosity,
sharpness of wit...
        otherwise we're just left with
regurgitation, maxim regurgitation, cloning,
   general boredom, and being gently lullabied
into a gentle slumber...
         a safety... take truth to be a pouncing
leopard, rather than a prancing pony.

“The Declaration of Independence dogmatically bases all rights on the fact that God created all men equal; and it is right; for if they were not created equal, they were certainly evolved unequal. There is no basis for democracy except in a dogma about the divine origin of man.”

Before your hands touched me romantically
Your words did intellectually
There is something about you that
Changes the rhythm of my heartbeat melodiously

I like that we don't just agree dogmatically
But we criticize ourselves constructively
Through the peaks and troughs,
You stood by me unconditionally

I will love you eternally!

tidings foreign and sails approachable, applicative
potentials are more erasable than realisable, ethical isolation
ennobled, heretically traumatised, an affirmation
of most vindictive anger and rage, indicative
of quietly replaced sensations equal to vengeance, prases explicative
in delivery, solely true and eminently imminent imagination
insignificant, reign and destruction, entrammelled selves' emanation
results in parateresiomania, a fatally communicative
process of natal convictions, extreme and flawless, communions
are impressed with prisoners' relevance, what affably
considered, what dogmatically initiated, means
represented disfigure unanswered replies, a perfect union's
lost goodness, damaged facades laughably
gorgeous, curious and serious, a community's machines

We were once all kids
Youngn's, 
Wildly childishly dumb
Some threw fits
Become a nuisance
Some prudent
Possibly a ton
Maybe you wined and kicked
Because your chores weren't done
Probably clueless
Of what the world had yet to come

Then there's the misfits
Who never fit in
Who blew scales of fish
Then threw fists
Took a few to the ribs
So now threw brew to lips
Taking double dipped Blue Cupids
Letting blotter strips melt to tounge

An endevor to numb the constant misuse
Just endlessly pursues
Never able to outrun
The pain forever maintains 
Only abstains for some


We all knew one
A problematic student
During our unsystematic youth
One kick ball captins wouldn't choose adamantly 
Or picked on traumatically 
For reasons enigmatically obtuse
Easy to dogmatically accuse
So now he's pragmatically recluse

He walks out of school
Without any excuse
But doesn't go home
Because there's no escape free from abuse
Done it so many times 
Has a bracelet above his shoes
The only safe place he can seem to think
To avoid feelings profuse and being upset
Is the old Willow tree on a swing 
With a noose around his neck
16 year olds
Shouldn't contemplate death

Anyway he picks up the goose
Can't complain it's better than the latter
Sensation so placid
Lamination built couth
Decides to drop some acid
As he heads up a ladder
To the top of the mall roof

It is now 6 stories up
This is how his story shut
Crying apparently seeing stuff
Lying guaranteeing to the kid 
He'd fly away if he just jumped
Without a single condemn
Not a single to hand to lend
Not one person that he could depend
This day became his end
Nobody heard his voice again
Guilty unable to make amends
As he fell to his doom, his death
To a better place he'd soon ascend
A misfortunate event
But God will assure he is now content
I guess you could say its unfortunate
At the least it's for the best
In piece may his soul rest
And forevermore be blessed



R.I.P my freind
©thrags

Choose to stay.
Wear your belief,
steer clear of influences
that are customized and advertised,
so that you live and don't get sold.

Choose to stray.
Impair your grief,
veer away from continuances
that are  dogmatically institutionalized  
so that you dream free and act bold.

Flourishes amidst freedom
once invisible (alice in) chains shucked
when soul no longer kept linkedin
to jane's addiction
with corporeal duty, entity, fealty...
while formerly shed body electric
gendered as former googly eyed hotmail
actually a prodigy, whose outlook
arouses suspicions regarding him
as person of pinterest living social
in a webbed, wide world of uncertainty

precariously perched atop pinnacle
pirouetting at light speed,
nevertheless defying the laws
of centrifugal and centripetal force
as spirit blithely ushers forth
along a straight line
of orthodox dogmatism, idealism
opportunism, and volunteerism
hemorrhaging, purging, and xing
staunch archconservative
punishing outdated edicts.

When after the final countdown
to the global apocalypse,
(according to Doomsday Clock
January two thousand twenty three  
ninety seconds to midnight)
one beatle browed, foo fighting nebbish
departs the land of the living
and joins rank and file
among the grateful dead,

he (more specifically
the physical and spiritual
embodiments incorporating him
will separate) at long last,
thence latter day sainted essence
can freely exit from the cares
and concerns of an uncertain tomorrow  
no longer plagued by earthly travails
particularly the necessity of money.

Within heliocentric/ Copernican theory
broached sixteenth century promotion
sans scientific paradigm
dogmatically hefty, kinetically lofty,
and poetically thoroughly,
xyz beliefs misalign
wherein mechanistic Ptolemaic,
static venerated yin yang benign
choreography describing elementary forces
governing heavens inviting jinxed, kooky,
loopy measures necessitating

normalization, pacification, rectification,
transformation, validation
to guarantee spatial objects remain in line
which notions trotted out
a cosmic deal with invisible ink
omnipresent, omniscient omnipotent
benevolent creator linkedin
synonymously affixed terrestrial
firmament (planet Earth) nsync
with bedrock as Fred Flintstone
beatified, certified, deified,

edified, fortified, glorified Gibraltar
until undisputed supposedly
figuratively hermetically sealed
fostered religious (church) fathers
to do more than blink
when inquisitive minds (undaunted
though invoked as heretical martyrs)
blaspheming solidly entrenched
blind faith no more functioning with charm
mingly quaint association
with amulets, churinga,
exquisite fetishisms guiding humanity

innumerable journeys kickstarting
legendary modus operandi initially harm
less lee sounding out,
what manifested into a schismatic alarm
regarding millennial questions
undermining liturgical moorings
strong lance heaving arm
irrevocably toppled geocentric mindset,
nonetheless this oblate spheroid dance
sing with the stars redoubled
devout hangers-on fixed

with barnacle cleaving
devotion stalwart stance
populace behooved
(as would be expected),
when Doubting Thomas'
(Paine) revolutionary screeds
threatened (prior to unending)
universal schema just by chance
and despite proclamations pronunciations,
and provocations roiling status quo
hashtagged as evil rants

eventually zealous warfare between
growing heliocentric individuals  
with sacrilegiously blatantly deranged
fiendishly gnarly heathens –
perhaps the Renaissance own
groovy, nutty, and trippy Timothy Leary
the dawn of a quantifiable, explainable theory
(minus all those concentric
embedded orbital paths)
diktat preachers eventually became weary
to challenge recalcitrant

(purported hell raisers
****, I would have fit right in
as a rebel rouser)
whereby agents provocateurs
spout vestigial claim
to Gaea remaining front
and center of galaxy
on par clubbing with Mother Mary.

Yours truly bug buster Harris - August
twenty fifth two thousand twenty one
(at approximately 4:20 Post Meridian)
felt nearly paralyzed, neutralized,
limned, thus jump started travails,
and went emotionally bust
watching helpless and hapless critter,
who I could faintly hear gently cussed,
anyway said insect found savior
in me, (an aging pencil necked geek),
who sincerely felt his passionate adoration
able, eager, ready and willing to sacrifice

mine measly existence eventually
decades afterwards, these lovely bones
would turn to dust,
(a quicker outcome
if altacocker chose cremation),
yet prior to afterlife matter
first order of business
finagling, jiggling and lifting
liberating confined
within superfamily Cicadoidea
insects in the order Hemiptera
then quickly shutting window and screen

lest plague of cicadas conspired, fussed
and invaded, cuz vicious
rumor quickly circulated
twittering, snapchatting, crowdsourcing,
and buzzfeeding airwaves,
if their harmless buddy
NOT loosed into the wild,
otherwise intrepid nature lover
acquires dubious honor
threatening innocent life form,
her/his helpmates would gather an army -
to rescue stranded

kinsman/woman predicated
duty bound upon semper fidelis
therefore steadfastness
reigning quest they must
be united on wings and prayer,
whereby swarming horde
would cover reasonably rhyming poet
such that he resembles
knight in dull armor coated with rust
whose abridged poem
dogmatically indubitably
opportunistically vapidly trussed.

It's just emotion that's takin' me over
The injustice! Stupidity!

I do like those cathedrals
But I can't walk upon the greenblue sea

The religious join the politicians
Ignorance dogmatically

Basketball and old libraries
Eternal sleep eventually

                    3033?