Today

Style? The gaseous emission from some cosmic nebula, that style is post-modern.
Good? The white dwarfs, neutron stars. Bad? Red giants, blue dwarfs.
A HOLY CRUSADE FOR THE STELLAR MEN! Fill the ignorants with star dust, destroy old brain patterns by creating new ones! Your SECRET sinturd. My back arches for your love, 3.1415.......... tick tick tick, your measurements divide the waters.
"YELP ABOUT GOD!" GOD IS A NERD! GOD IS A TURD! GOD IS GOOD! AND GOD IS FOOD!
"I'm in it for the water" Stop splashing, stop typing, stop fucking, stop eating, stop breathing, stop stop stop STOP THINKING!
Mow your lawn.
Paint your house.
Go out and have dinner, pretend FOR ME.
Envelop me in your skin, wrap me in your sin. Keep believing that I'm not here, so I can have some fear.
Security, encryption would mean no-more color, the grey little alien derive no dollar
You can't grasp the flow, touch the fence and your fingers crumble.
He sharpens his crude iron blade, made of the souls thrice slayed.
Stuck in this cycle, rebirth everyday... there is ~about~, numerically, a place to play.

The loudspeaker above me crackles "Number 84, your time has come."
White walls, white tile floor, calm angels wearing turquoise.
Me get up, me no where to go, the angels in their smocks direct me to freedom.
The path to the door is lined with dogs in kennels, speaking to me in tongues of a language long forgotten.
They were out once, and they were in, and me see my own paws now and my body grown thin.
Me used to only be my sight and smell. Now with these angels I AM and have a Will.
The door isn't pure as the rest of this place, bloody paw prints, and desperate scratches.
A golden door knob protrudes from the right. I dare not touch, but the angel's hands are the keys to all the doors we please.
And there he sits, as though he's at the top of the world. My blue green guardian-guides leave my sight, but not out of mind.
A woman dressed in a black dress and a blood red poppy pinned to her chest. Surrounded with gold coins, and mounds of currency dressed up for all the nations.
My eyes follow her form from her soft red lips, down down down, my mind and eyes are falling to the floor.
Past her perfect breasts.
Down to the house of the reproductive system, which creates the slightest, subtle hill where the stars are born.
The dress is now lace, black and intricate, covering her legs. Ankles. The horror of the floor she stands upon. The faces of living zombies, lost souls staring up her dress, needles, white faces of the ones that finally made it. They fold over and under under her stance. The woman in black still on this ocean of secure bliss. The tiles made of human life, bought and sold they flow up, then down behind the desk of the man in the Grey suit.
His desk is mahogany. They say if you can craft mahogany, you can craft anything.
His face is neither young or old, he is neither fat nor thin... and his smile is made from Light stretched skin.
Not even a smile, a slight upturn in the corners of his mouth and his jaw slightly slack, holding an orb of Air between his tongue and pallet. His eyes stare, his chest doesn't seem to move.
To the right of his mighty empty desk stands a man on a chess board extending to the infinite. He is dressed in a white suit, decorated in metals, ornaments and sashes I've never seen before. I covet these things immediately, I wish to impress this man.
I remember my paws.
I remember my worthlessness. How could I ever be him, be as valuable as him? I feel shame.
It's my fault.

This man, he speaks, he speaks words of Madness staring out on his grid of black and white.

As soon as my mind settles the Grey suit at the desk moves.

His face doesn't change expression, he reaches slowly, purposefully to a drawer and removes a small dagger. Closes.
Another drawer he opens and removes a glass phallus, holding his careful expression he places both the dagger and phallus on the mahogany pointing in opposite directions. The blade towards the White suit. The phallus towards the Black dress.

He stands up, walks through the polished wood desk as though it were air. One pace, two pace, three, four. Another four and his nose would be at my snout.
~Fellow. You are on the path between SEVEN and EIGHT.
The path between FIVE and FOUR.
You don't need your beauty anymore.
His eyes were locked with mine, but his face hadn't moved. There may have even been a glow coming from inside his mouth... if he opened his lips.
The squares began to twist and turn under the White suit. The black and white spiraling in a pattern, as if it were a chore for them. Just as winding a spring is a chore, less force required at the beginning, then it gets tighter, and harder, and tighter.
The humans under the heels of the Black dress began to rise, speak unMadness to each other. The womans face was changing, her nose became larger, left eye just slightly lower than her other, her tits sagged just a little unevenly and the perfect lace became tattered.
"Know were I can score some x,y,z?" Dope, pussy, dough, a job, a good time, beer, friends... some water? All the risen were needing something, to do something, to get somewhere and make something out of themselves.
The man in the Grey suit still stared unblinkingly into my soul.
The White suit began to turn with the patterns beneath his feet, each rotation created another man in a special garment. First was a priest, a police officer, a good looking man in a suit and tie and a smile that could woo millions. Boy scout leaders, girl scout leaders, a pretty third grade teacher, and eventually mall security officers.
Still, we stood still speaking the language of silence, staring into each other's eyes.
The crowds were now intermingling. Each one latching to another, grabbing this, killing that, believing this and shunning that. The ones who spoke unMadness were beginning to speak Madness, following one of the chessboard people, building bridges to somewhere, making something of themselves in their Destined image.
Reality set in around us, Grey suit and I, now us.
Factories, green grass, stone, mountains, streams, computers, blogs, information rates, explanations of their birth into this cosmos.
The right side of our lips move up so slightly and our hearts melt for every single one of the animated ones, for reality, for the food and the worm.
Love is their work, worm and word. Love is a lie to us.
The smile spreads to the left side of our mouth and we turn around, eyes shared reveling in the mathematical chaos. Person(A) chasing Person(B) creating Chase(X). Nouns are dead. Verbs live forever. XXX

Hide It! and play the SHAME GAME

You should be ashamed of yourself. (WHAT? NATURE vs GRACE? HA)
LIVE ANONYMOUS. I'm sure I can make it real. I can empty my pain on the rest of the world, they don't want to think they took part in the original birth of this all, but we'll remember soon enough, and the good thing is, we'll remember we are all in this together as the lion snaps our neck with mercy.

OVERSTIMULATE YOURSELF! -- miss the subtleties
Notice the subtleties and they drive me to madness, maybe it's the eyes I see with.

INFERENCE IS DARK ENERGY.

5% of the universe is visible? Well then the 95% is what we INFER from that five percent.

It's DARK energy because that's what I see for some reason. It has been menacing for me. So menacing I've been AFRAID TO TALK or WRITE about it. Not fear of DEATH but fear of IRREVERSIBILITY, fear of an eternal TRAP. The EYE watching over me, GOD, the one I can't help but STARE at constantly. "The Mean Reds" -- I love the main character from Breakfast at Tiffany's, I relate to her mental processing.

But it's been too long, I'm getting tired of this HELL ON EARTH, might as well jump straight into the CELL, lock the door and hang myself with my intestines only to find myself waking up on groundhog's day again.

"IT'S NOT FOR EVERYONE"

Well, good, then they shouldn't be able to understand a fucking thing I write. Which is FINE WITH ME. 1st Degree, 2nd Degree, INNER CIRCLE, TEMPLE, TEMPLE holy PLACE... Garden of Eden, the jeweled dance of eternity, the SELF IONIZATION OF WATER.

SO. I shall thrust myself in deeper. Go to India? Sit with the Dali Lama reincarnating OVER and OVER and OVER again telling the same FUCKS the same thing? Stand at the gate of eternity staring at the Bodhisattvas egging me on "Yea trust us ya slimebag we're not trying to selllllll you anything heeeehheeehehheeeee, it's FREEE"

Hide your deviations. Let them infect your insides, let the bastards say "UR DOIN' IT WRONG" -- "Hey square block doesn't go in circle hole!" -- WHO INVENTED THAT GAME ANYWAY, THE RULES, MAO MAO MAO place a card, is it right? PLACE A CARD.

Well, this works. So does the OTHER SIDE OF EULER'S IDENTITY. We don't need no STINKIN' APPLE PIE FROM SCRATCH we just need our IMAGINATION hahahahaha another UNIVERSE? No, the apple pie IS, but describing that tasty pastry is the tricks and quibbles and fun tink-tonks.

Say something like: "Meditation is pointless" -- the ones that frown get kicked in the balls. The ones that laugh are eating shit from the not-quite.

You think I know what I'm talking about? NO. I don't know ANYTHING, I'm not trying to say THIS is THAT. = equals = equals? Fuck you professor, sigma infinity infinity, and work your magic.

Making things happen.

LUST is important.
DESIRE is important.
Carve that bone from the clay elokim babys! Wrap it in flesh and CHASE IT LIKE A WILD ANIMAL.
ABSTINENCE, HUNGER, PAIN, DEATH OOoooh, don't talk about those~~~~ look on the BRIGHT side of lifedeathlifedeathlifedeath, and send a check to the hungry fucks (your human counterparts...), they can really use your fake.

I'll do IT. And I'll wait for your hungry mouth to eat me alive. If I am not lucky enough to gain the good death, then the wretched worried death I shall endure. Prometheus never had it easy. Burn the books with his fire.

Faggots Arete
Blogging 4 Lyfe
Research things you don't understand, take yourself closer to the center of the MANDALA... forever, not prestige, not money, not bitches. They're EASY like shooting dumb doves with a BB gun. CHASE SLAUGHTER CHASE RUN RUN, FASTER, NO ESCAPE. hahaha, and guess what... it's like the best dream you've ever had, just don't wake up and find yourself working at a POST OFFICE.

Rant and Rave

I write like a bozo, because I am a bozo. I don't hold my own in the human world, I am a leech, or not really a leech, I'd prefer to be seen as a maggot eating something that's already dead... ~mere meat.
The things that I hold dear, the things that are important to me are the same as everyone else. Shit, food, cumming, body parts not hurting. I am not able to see myself as separate from the rest of the world, as do the people parts that follow the "Novus Ordo Seclorum" Seclorum... ages? More like seclusion, seperation, divide and conquer "strong" weak people, yes you're strong, you can stand up for yourself without help, you are alone, you need us, but not really, you're making your choices.
Peace found me for a split second last night.
For a single moment, the fear dropped and there I was with another human being. If I could of killed myself in that moment, I would have so I could let my life force dribble bubble into that little slice of the cosmic pie forever...
But no, it was fleeting, like a strobe light switching on for the first time, the AC voltage being directed though the diodes to the capacitors, them draining out slowly enough to "double" the voltage, finally twisting the spring in the main capacitor, getting it ready for another huge release of energy to arc the void, to jump it.
Nietzsche isn't a man, its a type of an electron with a property. The electron that's reaching so hard through the void, with the eyes of a tiger, the one burning "the new path" that was burned through the xenon thousands of cycles before. Splintering through the veil, the insulating nobility. Then the masses of scumbrain, buck-fuckers feel the safty of a road well traveled and it's the way to go, only to be brought to the height of the trinity of trinitys of etc etc to the very top of the pyramid of quantum energy states. Oh we're enlightend! we're here! for how long? Maybe a tick or so, a century or so, then it leaks away. Each person dropping to a lower energy state, but the flow from above is already charging that capacitor once again, getting it ready for another age of enlightenment, to cast a flash upon the rave of the alien bastards dancing to pedophilic techno, over and over again. Working for themselves always but always working for the rave, towards the grave, ground, falling. The wheel in the sky keeps on turning. The cigarette in the mouth keeps on burning.
The passion of the heart always yearning, she's on the screen now, knees to her face, and her panties over that plump cunt of soft, warm, flesh. Fleshy Gates to the other realm, connecting the dead with the living. My boney cheek rubs from anus to the Mound of Venus, my dog nose inhaling the vapours of the ancients. This one is part of the eternal tribe. I know. But I wake up again, she's on the screen. I have a hand full of half people, worthless meat things in a sea of protoplasm. I slurp this up to prevent the demons from getting to my half children.
Digesting them, the billions of half-lings swimming in the pool acid, mingling with the Sin-o-Men Toast Sugar Teat Dribble industry's anus breakfast. They make you work so they can shit in your stomach, NOT A BAD THING.
I suck the puss oozing from my teeth, and it fills my olfactories with signals telling the CIA, UPGRADE FACTORIES OL' FACTORIES ROTTING. So they start to try and find the one thing that will clear the shit away, to clean my dung stained rose glasses. FORGET! BE THANKFUL! I'll be thankful .sure. once the grass blades stop cutting, the factories stop leeching off SPACE ENERGY from the SUN. The MEXICANS and BLACKS aren't so lazy. Once ROBERTS #1 #2 #5 stop being ROBERTS and get with the BOB program. I'll be thankful when THANKSGIVING is called GENOCIDE. I'll be thankful when CUBICLES are called KENNELS. When FAT, SWEET, SALTY chip-chunk is called PEEPLE TREATS(Yum! They'll LOOOOOOOVE them!). When GOD is called &&&53nmnm_--xx(.
When people REALIZE GAGA is GENETIC CODE.
When I realize that I AM HELL.
When I get my dick in so deep, that it wont EVER COME OUT.
When I find MIND CONTROL and the CIA hiding in my ANUS.
AUTOSAVE FAIL'D

But to look on the bright side of all these ~wonderful TRUTHS~, that are so much more conducive to a productive life in the society of INFINITE MIND (no the universe is 13.7 BILLION EARTH YEARS old! Duh!)
I don't feel sorry for me.
I don't feel sorry for you.
It is DOING, and you will DO when it is TIME.
I am doing THIS, I am YELPING THAT. That's called INFINITE ENERGY OF HYPOCRISY.
HYPOCRISY is a LIE, guess what YOU'VE BEEN LIED TO ABOUT THE DEFINITION OF HYPOCRISY.
I want to point out the big old shit WE'VE left on the VICTORIAN CARPET together and want to rub your NOSE in it and say "SEE. WE WORKED TOGETHER to make that, you couldn't have done it alone and well... I'VE BEEN EATING MY SHARE OF SHIT, now let's drop your little dress up game and get to the REAL FUCKING"
The DEVILS look like ANGELS to the hardworking, penance paying, lovers of say-do-not.
The DEVILS look like FRIENDS to the wobble bunk shit fucks able-cain oopsie-knife-sticks.
The DEVILS look like DEMONS to the PHATBOI alpha-dur dur gotta fiance with a PhD lawyer oh lawdy I gotta do and hold on hard or else, o worry worry brain-fucker laden po-pos.
And do the dumb mother fuckers who can't even know what, they're all of the above in some sorta geometrical shape that folds over itself like a future imaginer. (thats me!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! MEMEMEMEMMEMEMEM)
Twist the dick in 6 dimensions find out you have a string of people.

Finance your folly with poison ivy and cock-swabble.

Finish the race BACKWARDS.

Destroy all and blow it out your ass in a poof to find a million truths, some shine like dirty diamonds and are worth 4389723 times as much.

Have CONFIDENCE in your ABILITY to drink the GREY smoothie, digest the white LIFET and condense DARK TURDS OF UNSPEAKABLE EVIL that are flushed to the underworld to produce ORTHOSZZZZKKKKKT'gagghaA! THE ELBASPEAKUN ONE. $$$ is GOOD. DISEMBOWLED NUNS, good FUCKING. TEDDY ROOSEVELT BEARS good PORNOGRAPHY. BANANA APPLESAUCE good MEALS for the elderly and weak. This kind of SHIT is CONSISTENT, "Would you like to buy our product protection plan?"... "Can I please help you find your demise in technology?"... "Do you believe in Magic?" ... "Can I have your daughter in the laptop room? ... Oh she's only 16 years OLD? HOLY SHIT I AM A FUCK UP, I AM A TERRIBLE PERSON FOR BEING ATTRACTED TO HER SIR, PLEASE HAVE MY HEAD ON A PLATTER, CUT MY DICK OFF!"
"OH it's NORMAL? OH interesting, wow I read that 4 month old babies have been reported having orgasms! After what, sir?" -- "YOU SUCKED BABY WEE?!" -- "Sir, I'm going to have to take you to the bathroom and sodomize you, just to balance this equation."
Normalacy ~IS~ RIGHT... Normalacy ~is~ the OBJECTIVE RALLY-TEE.
FUCK "is" toss it to the road and have a semi-BMW run it over as it become another pavement person, word, brain, hair, blood, scraping off the skull of our lord and savior the ETERNAL dying one.
Play some CIA war game "Call of Duty"? Sure thing, you paid for it, it was your choice BITCH. Go study your CONTROL SYSTEMS. Eugenics, conditioning, RE-PROGRAM. RE-PROGRAM. Happiness is: Gambling, Ex-Sin, Adultery, Murder(aka WAR, CRUSADES), Purpose, Pride in your WORK, Coveting technology-boredom, substance use... etc you know how 666 and 777 work over a cup of coffee discussing your very life, laughing with their pinkies up and playing footsie. The end, enjoy your life FREE MAN.

What is science beyond cause and effect?

It doesn't matter WHO is making the choice, what matters is a choice is being made(sure.) and there is a result that occurs.
It doesn't matter what we call this or that, just that something is happening and can be described.
Instead of looking at the equals sign as an assigner, better to look at it as the point on a perfectly balanced fulcrum.
Reminded me of the cat analogy in "The Book" by Alan Watts:

A similar solution applies to the ancient problem of cause and effect. We believe that everything and every event must have a cause, that is, some other thing(s) or event(s), and that it will in its turn be the cause of other effects. So how does a cause lead to an effect? To make it much worse, if all that I think or do is a set of effects, there must be causes for all of them going back into an indefinite past. If so, I can't help what I do. I am simply a puppet pulled by strings that go back into times far beyond my vision.
Again, this is a problem which comes from asking the wrong question. Here is someone who has never seen a cat. He is looking through a narrow slit in a fence, and, on the other side, a cat walks by. He sees first the head, then the less distinctly shaped furry trunk, and then the tail. Extraordinary! The cat turns round and walks back, and again he sees the head, and a little later the tail. This sequence begins to look like something regular and reliable. Yet again, the cat turns round, and he witnesses the same regular sequence: first the head, and later the tail. Thereupon he reasons that the event head is the invariable and necessary cause of the event tail, which is the head's effect. This absurd and confusing gobbledygook comes his failure to see that head and tail go together: they are all one cat.
The cat wasn't born as a head which, some time later, caused a tail; it was born all of a piece, a head-tailed cat. Our observer's trouble was that he was watching it through a narrow slit, and couldn't see the whole cat at once.
The narrow slit in the fence is much like the way in which we look at life by conscious attention, for when we attend to something we ignore everything else. Attention is narrowed perception. It is a way of looking at life bit by bit, using memory to string the bits together--as when examining a dark room with a flashlight having a very narrow beam. Perception thus narrowed has the advantage of being sharp and bright, but it has to focus on one area of thc wold after another, and one feature after another. And where there are no features, only space or uniform surfaces, it somehow gets bored and searches about for more features. Attention is therefore something like a scanning mechanism in radar or television, and Norbert Wiener and his colleagues found some evidence that there is a similar process in the brain.