cookies and cream

I remember the days years ago when I knew everything and how the people around me were crazy for doing the things they did and saying the things they did. I lived high on a mountain of cheese sprinkled with cracker dust; wine bottles everywhere throughout. The fresh stench of sex permeated the air and ashtrays filled to the brim with half smoked cigarettes were always on every flat or semi-flat surface. Every night we had the worlds problems solved and every night there was a different suspect.
They were always anonyous and alone. Not desperate, just really angered by something that has happened recently in their lives. They were always honest about their names; which I guess made them feel better as guys will easily use other names which may have made them feel better about their going outside the line for some extra spankage. Suspects they are, still, these wonderful people are the most human of all humans. They see a need and fulfill that need for real, reaping the rewards of anonymous and hardcore sexual practices with total and complete strangers (consenting adults). The rewards come in secret boxes wrapped with electric bows and cards that flash neon memories of yourself and one other in dirty and secret bliss. LLc

why

Know me, never you can. Understand me, no, that is too complicated. Why? Because. Because why? Well, it's just always been that way. Why? because my mom and dad were crazy people and when I was conceived they were drinking in the back of a 68 Mustang and my pops talked my momma into a quickie thus passing on to me the crazy gene. I never had a chance man! Why? What do you mean why? Say that shit one more time and I will excommunicate your ass! Why?
You better start running. Why? LLc 98.2

definition

I search in the mirrors; the windows and the glassy objects throughout, and I see the reflections and sounds of others playing their games. I walk along in silence where nobody can hear me. If they only could maybe they would see me differently. Maybe then we could find commonality among us that stems from a long-standing love affair with people and life. Maybe we could become closer, more defined, affable.

harbor

We are trained from birth to recognize things in our environment. We are trained accordingly with all the appropriate attachments. We accept or deny these things and then we begin the rationalization process. We take in information and weed out other information that is not useful to us in our daily endeavors. But, we never forget our conscience and we never forget our dreams. Often, these two things collide with great frequancy thus leading to even greater ways of configuring our thought processes as they relate to our actions that follow. Whether we act on this or that is determined by many factors such as social standing, economics, or perception of self as it relates to what we believe to be true. We are trained from birth to recognize things in our environment yet we never receive training on invention and new avenues of exploration. We need to recognize the twigs on the ground and the sound the wind makes as it whistles through the branches of the trees that allow us to breathe and appreciate the cycles we are all a part of- both on the inside and out. LLc 98.2

symphony of silence

My symphony of silence protects me from the rage of the other. I believe there is a reason for my protection, but the source is beyond my detection. Whether it be friendly or not there can be no doubt that it has served me well during my time. In reality, I should have left this nasty plane a long time ago. But for some reason I have withered in my stances only barely as what I see in the world is complete fiction. I see the trails of lies and the tears that soak beneath the eyes to reveal the alone-time cries. My symphony of silence allows me the time necessary to wipe away my tears right out in the open where everyone can see them. No need to hide away from a world that is filled with the hopelessness we have all come to love so very much. 98.2

ok

The happiness we seek cannot occur from the outside looking, acting as we do. Justifications follow from there most certainly followed by activities that are indeed far removed from our mental tickle spots. If the desire to be enhanced in some way has left, and you feel as though retreiving it back; then seeking some sort of betterment for yourself as you seek the same feeling again; even if you believe you have succeeded in your quest, you have not. It is a different kind of success in a different context that serves the perceptions of other people for you. The worst part is once when all the t's have been crossed and i's dotted, everything is completely different in reality than your preconceived notions of what happiness is or can be. Even if the mold has been created by you, once the journey to the goal has ended you WILL find a fit that is unsnug, uncomfy, and completely unacceptable and cold. Happiness is never forced. It occurs accidentally, but we must be open to it. It is difficult to keep that door open when your always looking down.

you

From the time we wake in the morning until we go to bed at night, we imagine another conversation or activity with someone else that has nothing to do with what we are doing at any one point during the day. We continuously branch off into our various parts of our entire self thereby activating the usual mechanisms we use to hide the way we feel about the one we constantly think about but are afraid to let know. I think about one person in particular all the time. Do you?

simplicity for one the few

All we want in our lives is to be in a place where it is just fine to find empty space; a whole lotta nothing, a fine place to visit from time to time. The place between someplace and the rest of the world where time moves at a comfortable pace; the place where one day you will remind yourself just how decent and good life can be when you run with the flavorful ones, the tasty ones, the ones who are battle tested and still a whole lotta fun to hang out with. In that location is the furthest place from our isolation and self deprication. 98.2

tree

MMMMMMMMM, I feel so good today. I have an open canvas and lots and lots of paint. My only concern this morning is where to start. I think I'll paint some sky. I'll start with a little blue and mix some white with it until I get the swerve i'm looking for. Now for the ground. Brown and black should do the trick. I need to remember to put some sticks and leaves on the ground. It is Fall after all. Now, for this one tree. What to do. Hmmmm. This is a special tree and it needs to be in a place where people can see it for miles and miles for many years to come. I think I'll put it right here beside the brook. That way it will always have water nearby. Yes, I am happy with that. That is indeed a great spot for a special tree.

you are vital

There is no need to fit into the mold, the expectation of what others believe to be your best bet. There is only one best bet, and that bet belongs to the priority of opportunity from which you derive the most pleasure. This means that there is a focus, a way of doing things that, in the end, will yield the best possible outcome; one in which you find the greatest satisfaction. Because things change, especially if another comes into your domain, priorities change. This is a fact that brings forth new opportunities and/or old ones never realized.
The people around us are no more tapped in to the possibility of success than we are. There is no one general rule or way to achieve the success you desire in your life. There is only one mold for you and it was made specifically for you. Other people may at times try and fit into various molds; this is normal. But one day the rubbing on the side of your body will begin to itch and feel uncomfortable. When this happens it is time to remove yourself from that mold that was not created for you in the first place. That is a sign that it is time to stretch out and let it be known to the world that you have a place here, a desire for belonging to a system of occurrences of which you are a vital part.

whispering wishes

Imagine if you will the perfect day. Imagine waking up bright eyed and bushy tailed as you leap out of the shower into your favorite and most comfortable outfit. You pop the shades on and out the door you go. You have a pocket full of cash, a full tank, and the entire day to do what you wish. I wonder what your wish would be.
I would have the cracks of solid iron shots echoing in the trees as the birds make their usual sounds and gestures. I would have good friends with me all playing competitively. Afterwards there would be good meat and chicken on the grill and pool balls banging in the background blending with the rockin jams being played in full surround sound. There would be laughter for all with movies playing softly till dawn.
There would be a hearty homemade breakfast waiting for anyone who stayed in the whole time: Pancakes, bacon, eggs, hashbrowns, waffles, sausage, donuts, apples, oranges, bananas and grapefruits; every juice known to man and yes, an entire case of diet pepsi- of course.

time bandits

There are feelings and thoughts that refresh the mind and occupy the temporary vacancies that sometimes persist in our daily grind. These feelings are real because they occupy the mind's time that is not always gracious in its reception. The conflict that becomes of it resides in another one that lies on the other side.
The line that gets crossed is old and worn from generations of heavy travelers. The stories and hopes and dreams handed down from past inequities swallow up our new ideas and hold them in to suffer in silent squeezing. The line must be moved and the doors must be opened in order for these new feelings and thoughts to emerge.
Those doors open because others have closed. The walk through will always be long and the time it takes to arrive in style will most definitely vary from mile to mile. But in the end it will be said that you fit fine in your garb and stained it well with a passion anyone could tell.
Our feelings are not measured by their quantity; I have an immeasurable amount; they are measured by quality alone because true feelings will never be fully understood, only pondered and written about. And that is the fun of it all! 98.2 LLc

human condition

How do we quantitatively measure the human endeavor? If it required measurement to include numbers, then why is it that on page one of the research manual clearly states that all experiments including human beings contain flaws that are measurable. The good news is that included in this measurement process is that part of the experiment which deals specifically with the relationship between the unknown, its causes, and its reactionary effects. Beyond that, the clear observable and provable proof of im perfection within the human condition, and all endeavors either alone or in contact with one or more other human beings, is our quantitatively measurable cluelessness that seems to gain strength as we age. Those who earn degrees have supported this idea as they are now socially recognized as clueless and ready for work; hopefully in an important capacity.

satisfaction

Satisfaction, this is the big question isn't it? Our desire to be satisfied is human first followed by our secondary and useless endeavors to derive supersonic pleasure from things made of cloth, plastic or glass. Satisfaction never comes from the gathering of materials. This only promotes the social self which is a total fabrication. We need not belong to any company but the company we find intriguing. Being with people who naturally feed our spirit of self, the one that is hidden away somewhere in the catacombs of our mind's, is of the utmost importance. From there growth is measurable and worthy of contemplation and reflection. Getting to the point where time has run out for those who drain the spirit can sometimes be arduous and time consuming. Looking for the right avenue to pursue is sticky at best. But the whole idea is to encompass a whole life experience without the burdens of those who care not for such things. After all, it is happiness and satisfaction we seek in this often crowded place. Satisfaction always comes on thick at first. The key is to learn how to thin that dressing out a bit before you soak the lettuce pieces. We all know it is good thick, but once it warms up, it thins out naturally. Interesting in comparison. LLc 98.2

listening

This is master's level now and as much as we would like to think that we can write in certain ways, live in certain ways, and operate on a daily basis in certain ways; and expect the same results as those who did the same sort of things years ago to obtain their goals, we cannot. This is a kind of Dillingham Flaw; a name coined by a social scientist years ago which defines the comparison from one time and place to another as a useless endeavor.
Things can never be the way they were. This idea is imaginable but never possible. The thing is we get older and become less and less needed. We get shoved out and moved aside. This is a normal process that is sometimes difficult for people to understand or accept.
Our time is short here and we need to make it memorable. That means we must make mistakes; we must laugh; we must cry, and we must by all means have the common decency to at least listen to opposing views that challenge and engage our belief systems. This is master's level now and the boys on the block are looking at you.

the special one's, the other's

The special ones have a look about them where you question yourself inside before you speak with them. Sometimes it is best not to speak with them. Sometimes it is best to keep a distance far enough away to find no more concern with them. No matter where these travelers go there is protection from many different personality types occupying a wide array of community positions. This is accomplished by a straight forward attitude about the tasks at hand and finding ways to recommit to the tasks in a way that is not reflective of a new way, but an example of the old way. Back in the day people had people. Like minded individuals earned a living, worshiped the same God, and perpetuated a way of life that was exclusionary and unAmerican. Let us be careful of the wayward ways of the unknown. It is the unknown that scares us most and it is the unknown that we rely on to influence others even though nobody knows anything for sure. The special ones occupy the space that was layed out for them by forces that are stronger than the will of many many people.
The others, the antithesis to those who are special, are interested in bringing down the motivated by condemning that which they themselves do not understand. They survive well by comparison, for comparison, in the name of something far more elegant and deceitful. They are the roadblocks of misery that have given up on their fight. They have abandoned the self for the more presentable other self. The result is darkness the void that needs to feed constantly. From their perspective, what they do makes sense. They are the result of many years and many people perpetrating the funk for their own self, the one that cannot cope in any other way but to dull the shine of other people.

my little playhouse

My little playhouse contains the moods I possess. It is a fun place to visit on the right days, on others, not so many ways. The moods go from pole to pole with nothing in the middle but fragmented justifications for my actions. My little playhouse is both colorful and dark but it creeks in all the right places. I can spot the turmoil before it happens and choose therefor to create my own at the expense of nobody but me.
My little playhouse is on the same street as yours. We are neighbors but we have never met. We see each other in passing and even wave occasionally at one another. But that is all we share. That is what we know. Where the streets were once filled with the laughter and cries of children at play, now we have streets lined with little playhouse's filled to the brim with the moods of people and children at their rightful post; looking at the screen with all encompassing involvement. My little playhouse is brown. What color is yours?

I felt lonely today. I did not want to be alone. I went to sleep and I woke up alone again; alone again. I walked today along the riverwalk. I came home and saw children playing with their families and they were laughing and carrying on. I changed the channel and saw the same thing. I felt alone today, but I was not alone. There are many like me, I suspect, who play roles each day with not a real word to say to anyone. Play acting, that's all it is. Everything is just play acting. I was alone today, but my lonliness is shared by many. I know this is true without evidence.
I want to be my essential self again. I am tired of acting. It just takes far too much away from me these days. Why have I been this way as far back as I can remember?
I felt lonely today and I suspect my day tomorrow will be constructed in much the same way. I am alone always, even when I am with another. I am used to it. Are you? Must we be this way; together, alone?

our generation

Many words will be written in the following weeks, months and years about what is to occur in the near future. History has shown one invariable consistency in that certain historical events do tend to repeat themselves. There are many parallels that can be drawn from our world today and the world of yesterday and beyond. Without mentioning any names or events specifically, suffice it to say that the impact of a single event in the future will no doubt once again prove that history does indeed repeat itself. The aftermath will be shocking and devastating in ways unseen before and there will be an exposure that will be the face of evil. The kind face with even words will bring forth a systemmatic reference to greatness in the eyes of the world. This will be the beginning of a new era, a new time, a new process that will surely bring the past up in daily conversations for an entire generation and nation. Dig it, there is no choice anymore. LLc 98.2

bull-dog butt check

I often think about those people who live their lives in service to others. I see their point of view well as the alternative is to live solely for oneself. This selfishness is not of god and therefore any deviation from a service oriented way of life is unthinkable. This choice is not without its pitfalls however as there are high levels of addiction on both sides of the fence.
To live in some comfort at least, one must earn enough money to feed the bulldog, or habit, or something or other. A service oriented job will go nowhere without the necessary investment in time, education, and good old American money. A service oriented job will not pay for the bulldogs annual ass check; in order to move up in a service oriented job that can pay for extras like bulldog butt-checks, one needs to have at least a Phd in bullshit or know somebody or both. Otherwise, it is only through education that one can be of service to other people. Then, some years from today, those who lived a life of service can reflect back on all the shit they missed while being paid pickity poop.
What kind of social world places a minimum on people oriented positions, especially those who take care of the aged and/or physically or mentally challenged?
One reason for low wages and routinized care is the corporate world where free golf comes before anything else. Let's face it, if your a corporate executive, do you really care about anything else other than your own pocketbook? The rest is just paper and directives. Meanwhile, real people struggle to take care of their bulldogs.

functional dysfunction

And it was in this light I remember her. She was a stranger in some pub I have never been in before. She was dark haired, as far as I could tell, and she was short. She tasted like ice cream, her lips I mean, and her tongue was like a pissed off snake. Who ever taught her how to kiss was incorrect. It was like being attacked by a fireplug with the line blasting water all over my face. Was she enthusiastic, yes. And it was in that light I remember her.

true intent

dreamers make the entire world tollerable. It is the dreamer that inspires and spins the weave of contentment. Through the dreamer, the child-like cracked smiles and giggles, we manage our days that can sometimes be empty. Without someone to think about dreaming, without dreaming ourselves, we cannot possibly become a part of our own future enterprises in our truely intended way. At the end of the day it is the dream we look forward to and it is the dream we dream about. LLc 98.2

page 107

There is a book. It is shiny and red. There is no writing on the front or back. For the most part it is unattractive. It is for this reason I suppose nobody has bothered to crack it in quite sometime; the dust on the exterior is evident of that. Well I cracked it and read the last page, page 107. On this page was the result of years and years of deceitful practices nationwide from the banking industry to the government industry to the man on the street. The main character is named Crystal. On the bottom right hand corner of that final page is a photo. It is a photo of a television, a bag of chips, and chunks of velveeta cheese spread all over some strange bed with stripped covers and dark green fluffy pillows. There is a picture on the wall of a cat in a martini glass licking his balls. Needless to say, I started from page one and found the book to be charming and thoughtfully written. If I had to give it a title, which it does not have, it would be something like Belonging to the outside, forgetting about the inside. I do not know why! LLc 98.2

heck of a thing man!

Although the seventies were fun, within those daze occurred a most frightening theme. Television talk shows and news programs that embellish the horrific. Not to be out done by this new trashy reality that would serve as the jumping off point to our ultimate reliance on media in general, the psychiatric profession came through with a stunning victory as the battle for ultimate salvation would be fought in the yellow pages. Yes there came to be hundreds and thousands of fresh off the farm graduates who came out with one book after the other all claiming to have real solutions to your problems; the pharmaceutical industry beginning to take flight. With the tremendous amount of cocaine and cannabis that pervaded these shores, you can be sure that some of those books were written, like most quality rock songs or great pieces of literature, under some kind of outside influence. Now just look at the results. Look at what we have become: over medicated, repressed, apprehensive, depressed; fully reliant on false images all promising the same bullshit for the same low price of 19.95. The seventies gave birth to mania-so welcome to the new world order where pills are made before the illness and thousands of books are available to help you deal with your problems. It's a hell of a thing man, let me tell you. LLc 98.2

what?

I forgot once what it was like to be enthusiastic. I remembered again that feeling and came to understand the game. There are many games to be played each day and each day brings with it an entire new set of characters. There are no rehearsals here, but the main characters know precisely who they are and what they are doing to each other. That is the game of manipulation and concession. The context of these occurances always falls within the relm of finance and time occupation with things and people we would rather bypass altogether. This steals away enthusiasm and sucks dry the inside that will always cry for something more.
The essential characteristic of any human is to overcome and adapt. During this process we store away feelings and experiences that come back to haunt us like a tick tock in the middle of the night. We learn how to operate within certain structures and find ways to benefit from each encounter. This can only be done when there is enthusiasm. In time this enthusiasm can become part of the essential self, adapted and morphed to fit the secondary reactions to primary forces based solely on the game being played. Time is the number one rehearsal and learning tool that helps display the ways in which perceptions fall into place within any given context. None of this is necessary, but if you love the game and the people in it, it's all good! Or you can be complacent and sit down and think about it over a taco and a coke. LLc 98.2

create

Art can never be repeated or properly duplicated, not even by the artist; they do not know how. The feelings behind the art, whatever kind of art, are there for only a brief moment. They can only be coupled with the senses for so long until they vanish in the moonlight. Remembering the feeling is strenuous and always difficult. If it becomes forced or made to look a certain way, then it is no longer art. Once we formulate art around what is called for we forget the point of art itself. Because it can never be duplicated, art fills our need for new things. It feeds our innate desire to strive in our time to become significant in some way. We do this not for reward or recognition. Instead, we become involved in creation because there is nothing more human; nothing more fascinating, and nothing greater than the expression of one's passion. The rewards come from within. Then and only then can life truly begin. LLc 98.2

sold

It was a large house with a basement and an attic that was filled to the brim with artifacts. One day a piece of paper with five numbers on it was found being used as a bookmark. The book was old, red, and it seemed homemade. It was in good shape; hardly opened except for one page. Page 51 was about the decline of a great nation back in such and such ending with the demise of an entire way of life. This of course stemming, according to the previous 12 pages, from an evening where a conversation took place between 4 people over drinks in one of those hideaway restaurants in Manhattan back in the year 1962. The one who found this book has refused to tell his story--until now. That house was not just a house, it was a marker that served a specific purpose. Within its walls contained the plans for such and such to occur all the way up to .... No longer fascinated with the book, the one who found it put it in the nearest library. Unknown to this person, the book was placed in its proper place just as it was supposed to be.

The moon rises up in the sky and pulls our fragmented thoughts together in a collage that makes it difficult to make distinctions between one thing and the other. For example, today I lost my cell phone. Now I have always commented on how back in the day pay phones worked o.k. If we needed to make a call, we found a phone and dropped a dime. Life was good in those days. But today however, I had thoughts going through my head. Things like, " What if something happens?" or " What if I miss something and someone tries to find me and they worry that I do not answer; suspecting foul play and unusual circumstances?" So, I worried for hours about having to go down to the place and do the thing and pay for another fucking phone. Ironically, mother called and I heard the phone making that awful noise in the other room. The cell was found and I could rest myself. I checked my messages and nobody called. I really believe there is a direct correlation between the moon and common sense. Maybe the gravitational pull acts like an adhesive making everything rise and fall together. Maybe that circumstance is all inclusive. There is something about this place, this planet, that works us over in ways that we are not privy to.

funky soup mixture

Life is a funky soup mixture containing a plethora of flavors that are sometimes sweet to taste. That sweetness however could not exist without the saltiness that it must be compared to. This yin and yang is a truth that is universal in our time. Who can say, without the heat from a flame and the coolness to compare it to, there would be no heat.
The soupy mixture would be bland without the various flavors for the palet. The more palets there are the more flavors are required. This chain never isolates one people from another. It only brings the yins together with the yangs so we can all have one giant block party where everyone is invited and everyone brings their own. Our reality should encourage and embrace difference if for nothing else but to make the soup flow down easier on those really cool days when it would be the easiest thing to blame someone else.

need not

The elegance shown by the confident one is a sight to see. The smoothness and flow of that person's spirit shows through just like glass and feels icy warm. There is electricity with them that is difficult to miss unless your guarded by false bliss. But the inside knows, and we sleep on it.
People wonder about the meaning of dreams. One meaning is repression and discourse. The elegance shown by the confident one is as reliable as anything, but that show is easily done with years and years of practice and repetition. As time rolls the cracks show exposing the things we tried to hide but never really could.

around the remedy

Sometimes the machine rolls over us and it hurts. We then believe this is our lot, our destiny in pain. We buy in to the false ideas that something is always wrong or out of place. We believe these things and in time we manufacture our lives around the remedy. In so doing we play the role of lost one; common in this fray, and our involvement in sighting and defining some sort of solution becomes relevant only under predetermined guidelines manufactured by those who deal in deceit specifically for monitary gain. This is the machine and it lives and breathes within you-all of us.

effects

Few things are more wrong in this world than people who believe they have a special gift, a gift that is representative of the betterment of other people through the legislative process. This mentality that distinguishes itself no further than that of a child gearing up for a day at the water-park is complete and utter crap fresh from the farm. Special interests have now, and always have, ran this country. It is not the people who get these people elected, it is the people with money that get these people elected. No money, no say! Because the political climate is always shifting, their is a constant struggle to maintain power within the confines of government. Once power is changed, new forces are at work, all of which compete for their own interests through usual and sometimes unusual channels of effective and collective endeavors designed around favors and gestures of good faith. For example, if I donated fifty grand to governor x, then I would get to buy a few minutes with him or her to discuss issues I may have in my community. If I donated a MILLION DOLLARS to governor x, then that would mean my time has more value which means I have more juice; which means I have political capital; which means I need assistance that only money can buy so I can gain even more juice. Once someone reaches their personal juicyness level, and they begin to feel they have the answers other people are looking for, then we have a problem that has far reaching effects on a larger number of people.

river flowing under

Their was no life in those eyes of hers. She desperately tried to hide the emptiness inside but unlike me, who is real good at it, she needed space to let it out in the form of rage and obsessiveness over the mundane artifacts of our times. This was her coping mechanism, her stride, and it was through this level of engagement that would be her demise. It was a suited match however that worked well for a time, but as the wheels of life roll on she found that what was once hers is now mine. She knows that her future holds no redeeming qualities under her current isolation, but like me she will find solice one day. She will find it in a way that stretches far beyond the limits of our short stretch here, she will find it among others who hear her real self speak through written words. The color will come back to her eyes and they will sparkle like a river flowing underneath the gates of Heaven.

golf

People forget what the are trying to do when we play golf. Unfortunately, it is advertising that has fucked it up for everyone. You see, advertising tells us what we need. It replaces the experiences we rely on when we make decisions about us and the game we play. It takes away from the point of gaming by emphasizing what is not needed in order to sell more unnecessary crap.
Distance is only a part of the game. Clubs are also only a part of the game. What we are tryng to do in golf is put the ball in the hole in the least amount of strokes as possible and nobody cares how that is done, believe me! So next time you find yourself alone in the box, make sure your loose so you can smack the shit out of it. Hopefully it will be straight and true so you can put the next one right up there next to the pin for a kickin bird. And that's what were trying to do!

bowling

I'm not sure bowling gets enough credit. Every time I have ever seen people bowl, whether they are good at it or not, they always seem to have fun. There is laughing and joking around; there are those who take the game more seriously than others (very fun to watch), and there are those who bowl for the same reason others paint. You see, art can be found in everything. In bowling, the art is spinning the ball into the pocket so the pins crash into each other as they blast back into the pit with a thunderous crash. There is art in picking up the 6-10-7 or the 5-7 splits. Those who take bowling more seriously are fun to watch because they take pride in the game, which is all anybody can do in this life. Bowling creates friendships and builds bridges. It serves as an avenue where people can forget about their issues for a couple hours a week and enjoy the excitement and electricity of a sport with as much flavor as badmitten or snooker.

truth

It's a pretty good life when you can laugh at yourself with some frequency. LLc 98.2

happy people harmony

Images bring life to the harmonies that envelop our lives. Through images and music we have the capacity to see things, things that are not happening as yet. You see, within the harmonies created, and the images that come with them, we can enter a realm that allows us to formulate new hypothesis we can only get under the direction of the magic, the peace, the design that is allowed to prosper and fortify the lives of people in a good way; the kind that comes from the passionate people who gave us everything they had while they were here. We must continue their struggle. We must live our lives in a way that reflects the same passion and compassion brought us by the many who saw beyond the horizon to an eternal flame fanned only by those who try but always fail just as they did. Images and harmony flavor the experience of solitude while feeding the dreams of change that faith brings to the happy people.

big soupy mess

The wheels of capitalism continue to spin as more and more unnecessary shit is created for our consumption. I saw a blanket for sale on television, the snuggie, for 19.95. Order now and you can receive 2 for the price of one. This of course follows the regular dieting report on the news where we learn that we have to move and eat in order to lose weight. The thing is, when we begin to rely on television to tell us how to live, we lose our way. Once we lose our individuality we begin to see the world from the perspective of other people we don't even know and have never met. It is almost as if we dress ourselves in plasic wrap so we can sell ourselves in much the same way as those snuggie's. We do this freely as a result of being here in it; the big soupy mess.

never

I want to be taken away, to be flustered in speech and mind. I want to be fresh and new like it was yesterday. I want to sneak away in the night and see my shadow girl who waits for me down the block a ways. Ten o clock she says, and I would listen. I was taken by her. I would have done anything for her. She saw value in herself but it was in the wrong way. That is not to say I didnot partake, I did, but the point is the connection was one way for her and another way entirely for me. She saw a future in her good looks and pristine exterior. Little did she know or care that the window for a human being's best looks, baring sun rays and gene pool, is between 18 and 23. After those ages, we all just get old no matter how we try to hide it or fight it. To be taken away is to not have the capacity to see it coming. This therefor is why it is written about after the fact. The problem is we tend to look for things we read about; things that either already took place or never did. Then we make comparisons. Does this make any sense at all? We are all teken away, flustered in speech and mind because we are all unconsciously taking roles in our conscious mind while we try and match that process with each and every interaction while looking for the spectacular and unexpected; the makeshift dream never to be realized. LLc 98.2

blah

I know where you have been she said with delight in her eye. I know who you were with and I know where you went. She went on to say mean and nasty things without hearing a single explanation from me. As soon as I opened my mouth she would scream louder. After a few minutes of this shit, I decided to walk away. What did she do? She grabbed my shirt, turned me around and beat the shit out of me. She hit hard and it made my head ring a little. After a few minutes I actually enjoyed it. The poor little thing was wearing herself out. Good thing she didn't have a pipe or it would have been my ass.
I had enough and walked away. I drove home thinking of her ways of kissing ass. This one would surely be a doozy. I got home and ring ring ring a fucking ling a ling ling. I pick up and she is balling. I mean this girl is raging out of control with feelings and she was letting them all hang out for the world to see. Little did she know that was the night I decided I would never marry her and breed with her. We stayed together for another year. That year really sicked man!

inevitably comes

Real intimacy is genuine separation from the one you love when the need to be alone inevitably comes. To be intimate is to appreciate the individual endeavors of the ones we care for and be there when necessary; when the road becomes arduous and almost impossible to travel on. Like a real good friend, intimacy is never having to make excuses for yourself for loving the one you love. Most of us will never have that time in our lives where we can honestly say with a straight and pure spirit that we are with someone who makes us feel good about our lives. Yet we search for this intimacy, this connection of spirit. We may have already had it and made it fail by playing around with varying roles instead of playing the one role that is required before we can play any other, the one of us as individual people occupying a place in time. Once we know what it is that brings us the most joy, then and only then will we be in a position to take on the intimate role. Once we play that one, things really don't have to change but they always do; giving up any chance of the intimacy we all so desperately desire-the separation. LLc 98.2