ka poop da ka boom

emotion involved immersion,

doing tempts identification with moving object.

im dead im already dead.

we write our own books and entertrain ourselves.

the old elite will be a memory, missed by some of us scum.
Michael Caine will be a Gentleman. (children of men)
Clive James (australia), Mel Brooks (america).
the rest are redundant.
at best a dying voice easing the way for a new generation of the
species.
the kenwilbers and dawkies and bloomers.
but it is darker rougher prouder street-wise and insane, the world
that is emerging. streetwisdom is the new science. i embrace a
developing "postmetaphysics", now meshing with my psychophysical view
point, and la di da, but that is the area covered, not the approach or
the way. arrogance may exist but it is less subtle and more comedic
than the old way of science and philosophy.

everyone will understand
in the Playground.

the men are children, the children are men.

deepestdarkestwishes.
the world's becoming the place we dreamed'n'feared. the game crossed-
over.
how can they alienate the dominant species?

as the dreaming feels real the reality feels dream like
in preparation for
breakthroughs
on the road to
oblivion

i'm a toy like everyone else in my mind.
i get tired of us all.
celebrity tangleweeds blow by in a lazy desert breeze...
there's a clearing.

but, i am everyone.
everything i know, i am.
under the bridge a dam broke.

You and I are a matter of habit and play.

i fixed you in a form like a pill.

the mind is something to do if you let it play.
use it for non dulloldcrap reasons.
instead of chatting in a silly voice about ridiculous interests.

ok, one more.
then no more
no more anything.

remote car doesn't work.
piece of shit.

a fantasy that doesn't break.

nothing works. the machines
are dead and
i want my 20 cents back.
i want to break it all
out of the way.

CLASS OF 1999

the response to terrorism and the school shoutings is a military zero
tolerance creeping into place, the assertion of stupidity and
prejudice... further terrorism and so on.
the gangs and groups will multiply and though the present powers will
"buck up" they will be overwhelmed and alienated into their zones.
in the future it will be no restrictions good vs bad by open war brute
force and persuasion, and it will be entirely up to you to know the
difference, as always.

seizure of power.

this may revolve. we can hope in human sanity that something Good wil
secure its place.
but whatever settles upon the throne of the New Order, until then i
imagine the Sliding will only continue in its strange process.

do you feel the last breaths of the old reality consumed by digital
noise and fire?

edge heads.

children around
the mull-pole

if you are a compulsive liar there is a moment of disoriented honesty
in the state before you fully "wake"...
(chaos reaches for his lullabies, dontcha)

alive.
a childs body cannot stay still and ordered because of the amount of
energy running through it.
to be so alive is to transcend order.
BUT... you may be more powerful but not as developed (being simply
force-centric)...one must also gain a refinement and depth, without
restriction. cunning old youth.

this seperates the uberman from the child and thug and prerational
revolutionary.
but all together they war with the anti-human Robots and sub-human
Slaves.
(McDonalds employees and pop stars)

so i've made my toys alive again,
i broke the window with love.

i suspect you cannot maintain the energy your whole life without drugs
or magic.
at some point cunning replaces angeretc as ones defense and device...
not because you've evolved, but simply because you're old.

i'm schizo-like split between distasteful and dried up boredom wih
every activity possible to a human, and a cliche free fully involved
childlike love of the game of life.

"all their machines were dead..."

- tales from Necropolis.

from a spiritual anemic i go to having 10x normal power.
im on my way out, but my foot is stuck in the door.
out to the world and
out of the world.
from a cracked egg cell marked x.

ït hurt as they
pinched
my I.D.

flashing faces
indecisive clipart
of the madonna
bitch

video screens on machines are portals.

true will
switch mode / end all

rrrrrrr rrrrrrrrrr rrrrrRRRRRRRRR!

ouch
i bumped into
me.

perception is
more important
than exterior condition.

try waking up to something your glad to have.

then snap out of it to the degree that the dissatisfaction motivates
improvement, maintaining realistic standards.

we are all self involved patterns lost without mirrors

self development is selfish
until it breaches the self.

spacemonkey neuron-link collapse.

no i haven't lost the ability to have a normal conversation.
cultural immersion is my hobby!
but like a StuckGeek shaking and waking myself is a necessity.
and this takes the forms that i absorb...rattles...rewires.

excuse my ill-logic and emo shuns.

despite truthism
i percieve a
FUCKIN UNICORN.

the habit of materialistic Faith
the material
and social
experience inspirs
rots ones imagination

from the scatterings of scrap
burns a red fortress
protecting a city we called hope.

half invisible newworld.
the secret They don't see. ...look twice, look thrice.
"potential".
an unending weekend.
the never ending story.
fantasy manifests reality.
remote control body.

RLife: enjoy.play.create.

tying the two perspectives into one:
usually i'd juggle the psychological and the magical-metaphysical ...
looking at both options.
for instance from the metaphysical view the astral and energetic
realms manifest physical reality.
from the psychological slant ones fantasy and the "power of thought"
manifest in physical perception and through physical behaviour to
change ones material life.

now these two sides are both tru to me and are part of one view.

Social Engineering is both a matter of psychological influence by
communication and art etc, and of directing the objective energies
behind the machinery.

ditsy ... dreamer
rworld fatigue ... innerworld escape

asthmatics and mountaineers.

the shortness of breath and thin air causes this state of mind and
physical fatigue, and the spiritual and psychic experiences associated
to it.
it explains mountain top yogis and tibetan society and mountain
demons... maybe my whole chronically fatigued dreambound life.

meth normalized me when i tried it, while others went a bit whackier.

ah its a bit crazy
i live in a world of crazy images and
memories.
i treate the imagination as a
real-experience, and the memories as
of my real life.
experience is what really matters isnt it.

Dear Disturbed Loner,
let the comedy possess you.

the revrevolutionary is just another character and joke, and
exaggeration.

roles.
loosened up self.
transcendenal.
nondual.

and the joke Glasses is a recurring mood.

costumemakeupshakeup / eris klowns

oneness:

i can put another at ease by yawning, causing them to yawn.

i sense the tension and express the relief.

it's mine and theirs.

this is a taste of the magical sympathy perspective we've all
experienced.

i can less naturally make a sound causing the same effect.

"i find you odd.
but that's all."

personality annihilation by schizophrenia.
a heart a mess, dying out.
the dancing toys slip
a message from their maker.

save this song
from tripe.

EMO is
dragging out sincerity desperately.

dreamers
and gamers
and geeks
and oobers
and artists
return.return.

in the jungle the social revolution percieved is of no relevance to me
and i don't want it to be.

muse ...
i hate myself in them
and blocparty
and linkin park
and so on.
yet we (bleagh) are such an energetic patch of whiney ego, and better
than some other tragedies they're finding hope.
stepping into this world no wonder there's such an absorption of the
meme.
as childhood toughens up so will the need of the cracked adolescent to
cry and brag so annoyingly into their microphones and blogs, and the
need of the critic to snub his nose.

the cracked egg.
the self miserable within the mask.
the dying flame of identity.

on another note, there is an audience of zombie like dead paedophilic
vampires wanting to smell what it's like to Be a teenager. another
side of the critic, really.

in my dream i told a lady that death is a surprising silence.

welp... that death is actually unpredictable for each person...
manifests in different ways... until the end.

balloon pops.

spill over... bridge the gap between dreams and reality and
oblivion and reality.

raising ourselves like a class of the outcast.
this is a growing consciousness to work on.
it's more than thrust and noise these days.

riding waves,
making waves,
there's a fine line.

"there's a meaning there.
but the meaning there doesn't
really mean a thing."
- ringo.

dada isn't dead.

gasping for a sincere and revolutionary breath?
try meth!

rebellion.
otherworldliness.

punk-ism documentaries make me want to die.

and on marilyn manson
his shock and significance seems to have created a blind spot.

it will just keep revolving.
each time the kids are thinking they're the first.
and truthfully... there is something crucial about this time in
history.
but we are programmed to feel that way in every cycle from now on
whether it is so crucial or not.

simple thoughts,
one after another.

with this idea that nothing's real or significant... all is
relative... i ruined it all.

my ego ran madly, destroying itself loudly.

it was fun at the time!

relativity is really the feeling of irrelevance.
no perspective is worth honouring so make a big ass of yourself in
public as a proof... initiate oneself into the wavelength "nobody
gets", affirm the ridiculous and the honust-self in the anti ritual:
BLAH fnord. blah. fnord.

last year i drew the super christ.
jesus in a superman costume. and i made up a template for a new
religion based around that. for a while since i've heard E mention
superman being a spirit in my house but i sort of brushed over it, and
wasn't interested.
recently he brought it up again and the others there asked me whether
superman has any relevance to me. i answered that superman is in fact
jesus in my belief system, jokingly... but then i remembered the
picture and everything.
so i asked (very superstitious!) E whether the "Superman" looked
anything like E (who happens to look like jesus), and it turned out
that he did.
someone suggested that he came out of my writing and art.

return to the rain on the roof.

look twice, look thrice...

noisrevid si ycaripsnoc.
pawn drag queens rule the televerse.
the magic carpet will lose its breath
the kosmic matrix is ego death (c)

the circle squared fails.

i died at the height of cynical gratification.
that smirk will lurk for life times.

there's a bigger show than i can show off, because i don't understand
it. i don't get the joke. im merely a pARTicle.

i talk of the universe as an ant.

when i can't see above and through
the group i feel suffocated.
when i do i feel alienated.

gamelike / intellectual oriented.

i used to regard the real world as a desktop background, but as one
returns and becomes involved the "background"is more like a video
game.

meth boosts the energy to play life.

returning there is the adjustment period... but if you keep getting
out and you're ready, instead of real life being like a crash or a
hang over or a game over, the game simply continues. the energies
leak between states.
kosmicgeek turns mode flippin'kosmic gamer super bitch yada yada.

cold space mind.
soft feeling dream.
hard heavy world.

Join.

comparing yourself to idiots it's no wonder you're an idiot.
change isn't hard, it's just unlikely.

without sin we are sick.

knowledge:

can i coin a new ism? Ismism!

ismism is dangerous.

curiousity killed the cat.

or are we over it.
does it continue as revolutionism. intellectually oriented, wiser...
fires dampened by the inevitable, yet fedby the clarity aswell.
over cliche...post ironic...
not quite quenching.

i have less than 2 years.
then 4.

MENU. trapped in a modecycle. gobotgo.

the problum is knowing it's old and still doing it.
otherwise... as robotic seeming as it is to cliche'd eyes... there is
a life behind it all.

endlessbountifulcreativityescapescliche

staying alive.
boredom not life in general is
the problem.
enchant or die.

the "in on it" attitude of respect surrounding clever expressions of
Nothingness is interesting to Look into.

the expression is vulgar and common yet the meaning is indecipherable
on that level... it sounds like love songs and pub chat but expresses
a meaning more dark and complex. when understand (and it does become
easier), there is a blur of the line... the old reality dies! pub
chat is more than it used to be. the common tongue has seized... or
been given... the wisdom of the wanker!

you understand.

bringing up the street
walking down the geek

i'm preparing myself for an explosion.

revrevolution X23

morphine. deadly nightshade. meth.

"beware of the bird."

imagining my own or an individuals suffering there are times i begin
to multiply it and imagine masses of people all at the peak of their
pain, magnifying the hurt and great sadness into a wave of emotion.

a lone discordant violin leads into an orchestra...
it's beautiful but i can only go so far, and only if i'm in the mood.
better for them to remain a statistic.

i also have visions of great hope and nobility and courage like this.

as spiritual as it might appear to me, i k now it's only another form
of fantasy and entertainment, all in all... with it's relative value
to my mortal me.

another avoidance of death.

a persuasive youth.

after removing my head from the flattery of friends and doctors
expecting a demented albert christ to emerge from my brains ass, i
knew it wouldn't happen. not while i believed them.

it is difficult when your psychologists are calling you above human,
and your doctor is whispering signs of a "world changer" into your
parents curious ears. ("let him be and we will see")

but i took it as encouragement not to die, and in that way it helped.
increase the pressure of life and ideation of suicide.

the people who took me out of life and supported my non life somehow
convinced themselves i would change everybody elses life.

it's a difficult story to avoid.

forst bodhisattvas and city MIB tell me the same one.

now what do they really expect?

i could reach it symbolically.
but i can't fortell the future for good bad or ugly... so, we'll see.

maybe they're right but it's made me Sick.

even psychics and mystics recognize me on the street. or even those i
don't meet at all get a whiff and contact me through others.

last week i was accused of controlling the weather. now i'm afraid
i'll be blamed for repressing my anger and causing virginia tech.

a psychic friend of my parents i've known since a child believes im a
spiritual "world teacher" in making.

a christian psychic was afraid of me and withdrew her child from mums
day care.

a psychic boyfriend of mums work colleague contacted me through them
because he got a vision that i needed him. and i still know him and
he has helped a bit.

but i'll take as little notice of the commotion as i can for my own
good, and stay most of all a hermit for a while.

i believe MR is losing its realityism.
the weirdness spooks out of towners back out.