Well , I wrote something profound but then the computer erased it. Nevermind, because the military music will continue.
Something about the white buffalo. The dream is that even though the good clean ideas are always dying an lost forever that they will not be lost because they will be mutated transmuted and inevitable in the form of the white buffalo that has come again and ressurrection is our dream because we are such a pathetic people.
PATHETIC IN EVERY CORNER OF THE WORLD!!!
Yes, you already know what I mean.
No, you can't pretend I am just the crazy and you don't know what I am talking about. We always know what the crazies are speaking of. We ALL do. Yep. Yep. Yessiree. But don't read that hear because it is only a fallacy and we will never admit.
Just do everything they say and then you will probably be safe. Cooperation is the name of the game. Don't fight the power, be the river.
Q: What happened to the statistician who tried to fjord the river?
A: He drowned because he knew that the average depth was only 3 Feet.
Get it ? Get It?
Audience: Clapping and laughing.
Final score = you lose because you hoped for redemption whgen all futility is God and the need is supposed to be greater than the acheivement.
Why do I think so?
Well, she said, because my Vagina is too open and yet we cannot hold a fucking conversation beyond thew obvious small talk. I am trying to relate to you my writing this too you on the computer. However, I am certain to fail. Drinking whine and watching bittorrent simpsons then listening to music and fizzy water typing that is my fate.
The now is always a good thing too write about. If you write that then you have acheived all that there is to get. Nothing else. I promis3e I am her and you too. I don't care about spelling because the true beleiver will be one of THE PEOPLE AND read through that.
Oh, I love eating cereal when I'm watching my saturday morning cartoons. Remember that this is the now and at least you know now and knowing is half the battle!
Battle ! War ! Baby ! Baby ! I fucked it all up so there you beel;asdjflkasjdf;lksajdlfkjsadlfsuytoiytisdkfbvmxbnviuweyhtgfxncvkiuwyhtrf ilquwn fer chrissaakes. Christ Cakes!
Hobos for Jebus! @@@
We love the nonsense because it is who we are
Holy 18% of everything and I was the nihilist for you baby. Slap my bithc up. We try everything to get them to notice but they never do. Any when they do they just notice the wine. and beer.
I am going to start a new war. It will be the most beautiful war ever. It will start as a peaceful war but those that make peaceful revolution impossible make violent revolution inevitable. {as if, those fatsos couldn't organise it...}{
the lies under the limber lifter.
My war starts at 3 in the morning when the world is alomost entirely silent. Then a slow smoke will be seen by those that notice. Quickly it will spread until everybody is eating platic foodm shitting plastic bricks and stabbing each other with plastic knives. Then, about 10 AM, the patent laws will kick in and I will own all of that plastic and you will have to fight for breath if that is what you desire: Grap life by the balls and grab it! Or, as they say, try to keep your head up. Until 11AM when the guillotines come and it is time to keep your head down.
DON"T PUBLISH A NEWSPAPER IN IRAQ OR YOU WILL GET SHOT!
You cannot use enough exclaimation points to describe the desperateness that is my life. Then about 12 noon, high noon on your clocks, I begin the war in earnest and my profit quota oil war bankrollopoli oil pipeline ships in. You know what I am talking about. I'm talking BLOOD SWEAT AND IRON because bismarck is less famous than napoleon but Bismarch travelled by train and napoleon just died a confusing kind of death.
Did you get poisoned slowly playing your lead role in that cage, or did you die suddenly in your HumVee fighting machine because you were talking on the cell phone and accidentally drove off of the overpass.
Jesus children, bury me standing.
1 комментарий:
Hello, My most meaningful writing has always been done in dreams, usually I'm watching over my own shoulder- thinking holy shit this is some powerfully profound word-magic, this is going to blow everything away. Then I wake up, the words begin to evaporate- I wish it was as quick as pressing the delete button- but it's a slow fading, you think you have hold of something but it is only mist. But maybe oneday our dreams and those of our ancestors will tranform into a waking dream, in the meantime we will have to live someone elses nightmare.
Thanks for including my blog in your links, I will reciprocate; as soon as my rapidily diminishing brain cells will allow.
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