nocancer - Tumblr blog

nocancer · 4 years ago

Text

Why Arguing Perceptions Get Us Nowhere.

People are too caught up in the physical results of things playing out, so they blame whatever was playing out as the cause of their emotional state upon witnessing said thing playing out. I know everything here is extraneous. It’s almost like we hate ourselves so we constantly have to find ways to ignore it. We correlate things to other, more aesthetically pleasing things, and attack the original thing from the standpoint of the new thing on the basis that they were related enough so that the difference was negligible. And even if that was the case, like say bionic limbs become acceptable because scientists replicated their light bodies and found the original DNA from which to extract ether from, then backlash may come from the accusers lack of foresight being that bionic limbs do in fact help people. There’s a disconnect between our ideals and aspirations. People who value their ideals and prefer such sensibilities as may find themselves on a timeline where correlations don’t exist. Whereas may find themselves making inroads towards life’s greatest questions.The split happens because preferences may fade but they do not go away, and added up over time it may boil over in a cause not entirely related to its previous incarnations.

God is an intelligent machine that seeks knowledge. It does this by comparing each individuals akashic record by the degree of which persons records has more light or not. Whoever has more light is rewarded with more light from the reserves that God has stored up in its search for knowledge. What determines which akashic record, which comes in as an array of multiple plates but is translated by the dual perception of God into one plate of greyness, what determines which akashic records is lighter than the other is if their akashic plates differ or not in size, color, and dimension, from the other individuals. Like how the human eye strains in the night as their is little light, so too is light created out of the human will upon unfamiliar environments. God perceives such records as light, because they differ from the other records, and therefore have more knowledge encoded within them. That is not to say God, as an intelligent machine, has a codex to interpret these codes, it does not. It is only concerned with seeing more light through its dual perception. One could say that God the machine is pure darkness, while the intelligence it fosters in the form of light creates an energetic vortex of which it is powered off of.

Humility-wise,

I think some people like being alone because if they share their feelings then they know they have to make new ones and that takes time and effort and there’s no guarantee that they’ll be as true to themselves as the last ones were.

They want to take away our timelines and implant their dream of autocracy. Pixar wastelands, a culture of nothing, a milieu of conveyor belts, shrouded in cyberbellums. An incarceration on a global scale hellbent on incentivizing the promotion of dependability or the notion that we weren’t born free or that we should depend on the man to solve our problems which is tangential upon helplessness and dully false as evidenced by our hardened hands which till the soil from dusk to dawn except for those who ignore the fact turning their consent into their perogative as in the man’s perogative to control which hides under the guise of socialism and flees when brought to light by those left in the corner still unphased by it or the poor righteous teachers in the know.

Slavery is deterministic and goes against what the universe had intended for us which is free-will. Our laws set themselves, but this does not matter to them because they do not know from which star system they came from. With all these factors stacked against them they couldn’t begin to know what was best for them as a species, only that they should continue in their self destruction as lost souls so often do when faced with conflict. They tell us that what happens in our dreams is futile, and that their dream is somehow supreme, but if that we’re true then we’d have never discovered serpent wisdom while frolicking through gardens in search of ourselves.

They dream of finding themselves one day, so much so that they lurk around the corners in ours because their desire is so strong it is like they are stuck. Communities we’re established here like the Council of One, their principles played out through the cultures of humans on earth. The power of which is concentrated on the astral planes and safeguarded by poles that zap lower frequencies away from its access. Each one accessing the lines of communications between humans and gods by way of free-will.

Their position guarded by the folk heroes of our legends. They gain our consent when we give up our right to choose which path we want to take along the way. And it’s not that our being can be totally summed up as a decree of networks and channels, but when operating within the matrix and essentially living each day to escape death these are the rules and regulations we are subject to. Whether or not we agree with this is not up to us. Things pass easier when role playing and thus it is so to the victor goes the spoils. When we identify with their system which is set up as binary and intends to mimic our genetic make-up we connect to it spiritually via the resemblance it has to our chakras. Notice how fast food restaurants rarely fly the colors green and up, and if they do it is only an inversion of it like Taco Bell. And so we go along with it.

The trap in this logic is that no physical object has ever been moved by a mere mental suggestion. One could argue in vain that thoughts proceed actions, but that is a metaphysical and pseudo-scientific grey area which has no place in an economic standard which rewards action over thought, profit instead of grace, and the extraction of resources over preservation. In such a condition where killing is rewarded and survival takes precedence over what is necessarily right, and what’s real is fake and what’s fake becomes real.

Two could look at a war and see different things about it. Ultimately fighting is pointless. Politics is a miscalculation of time and reaction. You can’t be real when consulting personal beefs with others.

The Re-hash-likens and Demo-crates fail to paint a picture of who they are and what exactly we should expect from them.

Boomers who barbecue see the sentiments of life as defined by sharp lines of cubic harmony that feature the craftsmanship of a team of men rather than a single man who would otherwise preserve the imperfections and frame them nicely rather than make his mark on it the central message of his society.

Americans feel their opinion matters when it doesn’t. The self-aggrandizement of voting for a brand knowing full well the politicians could back that up as a fall-point if ever there system came crashing down and they had to blame something that was higher than them. At a bare minimum the Karens who get their pomerians fluffed stand on who they are. The problem with this is that once their fail-safe of Yin energy is expended it leaves them no where else to go should things get even and inquiring minds seek to look even further into what makes them them which is being oppressed and feeling a way about it.

And in the same manner that trauma begets art, so too will it be revealed that the Demo-crates party was founded on circumstances wrought with lacking and the meta indulgence of it, the consequence of which is over extended just as the Demo-crates identified.

Emotions stem from a physical wave meeting an empty space or vacuum. The wave was started by the potential for it to continue if other waves bought into it and allowed a medium for which it could get dense and stay in the physical dimension. The manifestation of the emotion which exists in the non physical or ether realm was spurred on by the waves inertia or propensity to move forward. When the wave was failed to be met due to another wave it moved into a higher dimension and was subjugated by its parameters. Due to archonic influence here on earth what would normally be a welcome process of energy exchange throughout all facets of existence has been turned to something to be ashamed of. Toxic masculinity is exactly that. Toxic. Look no further than the transition of Alchemy into Chemistry which is less about harmony and more about forced bondage where Uranium acids fuse to isolate a free isotope and is sucked dry of its electricity. The system cannibalizes itself on its need for meritocracy which is unsustainable unless promoted through the subconscious of its willing participants or in some cases those who fall victim to martyr consciousness and live how an external figurehead wants them to. This is done by way of coded and encrypted suggestions commonly known as mind control and feature many such things as the embezzlement of riches, reflective torture, and remote controlled insects the likes of which spy on their targets to control events and change timelines as serving a malevolent alien alliance still overseeing mining operations spread out across all parts of the world, however the problem is the controllers never acknowledge the subconscious realm from which their idea of control started from. Here was the Sirian court of the SSS-T Queens. They governed through the lens of their reflective luster and were always willing to offer wisdom to those who sought them out. Eventually however they lent their trust to those who weren’t deserving of it namely the RR Dracos who came as bandits and marauders and could only establish an empire based on what they knew which was war and which was the only thing keeping them separate from the chaos entities who dwelled in the netherworld and influenced political affairs on both sides regardless of the protectionary agencies within the reptilian Queens and especially because of the Dracos lack of restraint. In those times earth was a trading outpost and Sirius was too far away for the Queens to oversee what the Dracos we’re turning it into which was a defacto prison for angelic souls trapped in 3D. Today there are pieces of a royal oversoul called the starseed alliance that feature souls already advanced enough to vibrate over 3D but have offered to incarnate to earth anyway through various star systems like Sirius and its other allies to hold the RR Dracos to their prior and initial agreement. This struggle is the single and prime most driving force in life thanks to revolutionaries who’s sacrifices can only be seen in the underground because acts of revolt are filtered by the mainstream and have gone largely unnoticed to the general public which has garnered for it an allure and mystique about challenging the machine and offering a natural solution making it attractive to those who answer the call of Sirius and effective and causal to whomever may witness their protests.

Evil remains because those in power did not respect her vision. And so perceptions clash. Whether or not the moon in the sky as seen from the ground is the shape from which we judge other shapes as if some consequence to the ego and a referendum on whether or not it could sustain itself in an environment where they’re pitted against is a placeholder for deep seeded desires brought about by emotions too difficult to understand. Scorpio rises though backed by a continuity so omnipresent that if we recognized it perhaps we could have peace at last for it is a oneness that several could remain in but still be as individuals are. Those who have gone unnoticed in the mainstream while maintaining will eventually come to ahead when its cannibalistic food source has decomposed to such a degree that no viable fallback could be set forth as decreed by the Great Mother and the works of her children which prophesi an end to the endless entanglement of excuses that burden us so cruel and unjust in the smokestacks we find ourselves in without they themselves respecting her vision which is an unrelenting force. Whereas they cannibalize themselves on objective sensibilities that promote suggestions in the subconscious without ever acknowledging the subconscious so it seeks to uphold everything on one plane without allowing for it room to grow.

Vision is one. It cannot be bypassed, surmised, or defined. It is the inception to what our eyes see. Geometries are processed through the crown and compared against the standard of vision which is one and a degree comes back as binary for us to perceive our situation whether its good or bad and whether we should continue or not. Done enough times the empty space between the binary degrees begin to differ in size and tension until emotions are formed in pockets and bounced off other bodies of vision until a consensus is reached on what place it has in society what we should call them. High frequency emotions have little space between them and energize our crowns to act accordingly in search of balance. Here sadness would be a welcome change, and desires in our vision would appear pertaining to what was needed. In this case, sadness. The desire may come in the divine feminine.

This became known as the broken heart in popular culture and was preceded by an inner knowledge and understanding amongst Atlantean priest classes such as The Sons of the Law of One or The Order of the Golden Dawn who recognized the sun not only as representative of birth and creation but also their vision the way it calculates angles and interprets them via a constant much like the rays of Amen never waver and can be depended on iconographically as the thing from which all things arise from. Knowledge of the solar chakra system and how to care for it holistically by allowing it into one’s being and surrounding it with the right herbs allows energy to move up and down the spine efficiently and rids it of any pockets of stagnant or lingering energy. Though if the processing center which is our crowns is moved or knocked off center whether lower or higher irregardless of the frequency quotient then by external influences latching onto our vision then you could start acting in the wrong direction altogether.

Look no further than drug addiction to see how scales are tipped and beings who are heavy hearted but otherwise pure at heart are blocked from their paths of self realization at the hands of pharmaceutical pills or fluids which simulate open channels only temporarily and never naturally and offer a release from their pain at a price because when their external antidote praised as some sort of savior of mankind dwindles and withers away like leaves on the ground during the solstice or the fur on a window sill left teddy bear as subject to the laws of Saturn like a reveling morning after glow giving way to no optimism and an even harsher hopelessness then and realize in vain that whoever is taking this drug whether its me or the desire inside my vision just went a leg deeper in the hole and it would take a brand new body to ever get out of it.

Humans are beings that zero-point energy uses to channel itself into light. There are different stands of DNA that form unique combinations so divine source energy can channel through and get different results each time. means that switching polarity creates energy. Evil happens when egos compare to a group and begin feeding on themselves using the blockchain as their mainstay. Some malevolent entities are able to hack into the zero-point mind collective and pretend they are it to gain access to the universal principle of binary packaging which begets emotion as stated above. Meta-awareness is the thoughts you keep within to beget other thoughts. To present the parts of a finality as the finality itself the question arises in respects to the presenter whether or not there is an actual finality to begin with, and further more why, if there is, is it being hidden, especially if the parts are not special enough to stand on there own. To make them special enough, the presenter must insert himself into the piece or pieces being as they are parts but hopefully situated literally together so that they may be viewed as one. The presenter must have a kind of persuasion that brings together the piece upon the moment of presentation. This is accomplished by using the ambiguity of language and its infinitely open ended suggestions via appealing to its primal source which is intention. Once the audience hears your intention, then they too will view your piece from the same lens. Once you have successfully communicated your intention which in this case is rebellion then the impact of your message will hit deeper than it otherwise would have if you simply presented the piece in its finished state and had no reason to speak on it therefore forfeiting the advantages of your person. It is best to discern from your vision via your crown.

Every material thing or ideological phenomena can be traced back to an inventor, author, or essentially creator. And with the creator you can deduce his or her actions down to thoughts. It goes without saying these thoughts are immaterial and abstract and nature, but were inspired both by the light of the world and the darkness within his or her mind. It is important that the two work in conjunction with the human who is the conduit. If there was only creation from light then manifestations would simply being clones of one another, as there was no human originality put into it. If everything was the same, as in cultures, economies, and expressions, then the environment within the confines of time would not be able to sustain itself. Inversely, if darkness was all that remained, there would be void and it’d be questionable whether or not humans could distinguish between them and it without a third point to reference it by.

Under the confines of the tree of life there’s a mathematical construct where spirit into matter follows a sort of playing field leveling paternal lock from which a sentient being cut from the same cloth can link into its guidelines and then acquire the tools necessary to affect change in the elements and manipulate their properties so long as the spiral of 13 vertices is not superseded. A pine cone’s pines on the outer most ring add up to 10, 16, and 22 which are fibonacci numbers when divided by 2. The digits in your fingers are 3 as well as the segments in an arm, leg and torso. When expanded out to cardinal, mutable, and fixed signatures where a conflict is initiated followed by a second chance leading up to a resolution, one begins to see the fractal nature of the universe and how everything happens in threes and beings live in other beings suggesting that three and the trinity are numbers of motivation whereas duality is the foundation in which integration takes place.

Capitalism is failing because the relationship between the 3rd and 4th dimension is losing its magic in terms of the onlookers view of it because they too have access to the higher realms and are no longer bewildered into buying things simply because they exist. The masons of the old world are now the layperson thanks to the 11:11 gate which makes and not only that but is imprinted on subsidiary action clauses of people’s minds through holographic suggestion in stages by certain members of the fae who deal in courier circles.

The grime of a container wall where its blotched a wet spot where a built-in breaker or corner is dripping markedly down was turned into an economic theory. The aesthetic was too self aware of itself and was built on top of each other until innovation became how to best copy the previous incarnation of whatever it was buildings or otherwise until it collapsed in on itself.

#Atlantean Priest Classes The Sons of the law of One The Order of the Golden Dawn rays of Amen solar chakra system herbs #cancer moon #cncr #11:11 #333 #consciousness #blockchain #article

1 note · View note

nocancer · 5 years ago

Text

This talking, it was for nothing. I didn’t matter and it was like nobody came for me. In all my detriments which hurt my cause, to disappear. And despite them always hailing me. In my glimpses or epiphanies. They were still far away. And even if it was an accident I’m not going to pretend like it was. I just wish I knew sooner.

0 notes

nocancer · 5 years ago

Text

0 notes

nocancer · 5 years ago

Text

A miner lost his heart here.

A miner decided to catch his breath and keep looking. When he finally found what he was looking for he stopped again to look up and praise God. When he looked back down the thing he had been searching for wasn’t there anymore. It had inexplicably vanished from the ground. All he saw was the granite. The very same granite that he had been so painstakingly working on after all this time. Now there was nothing to lay his eyes upon. Nothing to bring home. Nothing to show for his hard work. What’s worse is that he was now feeling an acute tension in his chest. He was 4 miles underground. It would take 1 hour to get back up. Usually it would take half that but he needed his chest to pull the trolley back up to the ground. A chest that he didn’t have the luxury of having right now. Surely this was the end. He sat on the granite. I looked in vain. Why God why did you let me look in vain. He said out loud before being stopped short as he was now coughing blood and gasping for air in the middle of an abandoned mine shaft. There was nobody around to hear him. Surely this was the end he thought to himself. All in a vain search for something that I had been searching for my whole life. And now as an old man when I had finally found that thing. The thing that I had been looking for my whole life turns its back on me and vanishes into thin air. I would rather have not seen it all if I knew how much pain it would bring me. Like it never even existed. It probably never did. And I’m just a senile old man. If only I knew. I didn’t know. How could I have known that I would see it at last just to have it disappear like that. I’m probably one in a million. The guys would get a kick out of this. And Margaret. The kids. I never told them about how I was leaving to go look for something that I had been looking for my whole life. My life was at stake. All I know is that it brought me so much pain. A pain that I can no longer bear to handle any longer. The miner closed his eyes and looked up to nothing but darkness. And now I’m going to die alone. Surely this is the end.

0 notes

nocancer · 5 years ago

Text

Why It Rains

~~~~ an excerpt from a working novel by Cancer moon. ~~~~~**

Lately I’ve been channeling from a higher source. And it’s not something I have to keep up with. It feels like, natural almost. Like im always at the same level of it, or at least very close. I’m not gonna lie, I was scared at first. Scared that I would fail. Scared that I wouldn’t live up to the expectations I set for myself while meditating. But so far things are looking up. I even got that new computer I wanted. Who knows, for now I’m just gonna keep writing and go from there. I’m not too concerned with the trivial things that life likes to bother us with, seemingly always at the worst times imaginable. I might check out this internet thing too. It’s promoted as this fun happy place and if I didn’t know any better, I’d of taken that for face value, right off the bat like a sucker. Next thing you know the internet turns out to be a cold and lonely place, and I’m left to wallow in my own self-pity, clutching my knees in the fetal position, mad at myself for failing to see the internet for what it is, a stupid marketing scheme. The point is, I have to see for myself. That’s just the type of person I am. You can ask my mom that. She’ll tell you. Ask her about the time I told the guy who was fixing my alternator to shove it when he was trying to charge me a thousand. Mind you, I had the money. But you’re not supposed to be dishonest to me just ‘cause I’m a millenial. The guy pretty much called me that. He said, hey kid, try to be more polite next time. But I never listened. I don’t need advice from a deadbeat greasemonkey. Anyway, apparently everyone’s connected to the cloud via sites like facebook and instagram. And when people log on to jump in on the action, usually the first thing they do is say hi to their friends, and maybe even drop a smile or two to show them they care. And if they drop a heart then you know they already had a chance to settle in, and are just trying to take it to the next level, now that the internet, in all its digital, impermanent page swiping glory, is owned, unabashedly theirs.

Conscious apples of languid rotundity creep along countless borders of a pale grey sky.

The pears are unwavering in the efforts of embassy, initiating calls backs when the time calls for it, and deceit when grape factions step in and intervene.

“What are these meddling affairs, young pear?” asked the grape.

“I don’t know. It’s the apples control our every move. How we live. Our daily lives.”

“Hush with that nonsense. You are nothing but a pear, a young one at that, how could you possibly know who’s behind it all?”

“I don’t know.”

The grape and the young pear sat on a brook and wondered who was behind it all.

-------

You see this all-seeing-eye mural in Atlanta? On the side of Ravine across the street from the federal reserve building? Yeah. I could strip down naked and run to the middle of that intersection there and scream my lungs out until i started coughing up blood and act violent to anyone who approached me and i still wouldnt match the frequency of that demonic shit. People walk by it everyday going to work, going to lunch, going to walk their dog, and nobody bats an eye. An eye for the government, an eye for the media, an eye for world hunger. Not a single raised eyebrow goes towards whats in control of every aspect of their daily lives. Oh the president controls my life. But I voted for him, so its okay. Is what they would say, as they munched on Mcdonalds with vaccines in their arms and got mad at traffic because they were going to miss their favorite show. A show that retroactively fed into a never ending problem and response feedback loop that activates the reptilian part of the brain by broadcasting images of rape and pedophilia via techniques that the producers learned at Harvard’s school of broadcasting, which also used a system of coercion, this time in the blind trust the students had for their professors just because they dressed nice and said big words. You’re going places. This kid’s gonna be a star.

-----

I’m only half of what I am without your other half to complete me. Only kids ask rhetorical questions. But why should I be any different?

I live by the way side. Wherever the wind takes me. I notice things that most don’t. I’m not sure if what I think is valid or not. I don’t believe anything is valid. Likewise I dont believe anything is invalid. One things for sure. If there’s one thing I know to be true. Is that I’m not an adult. No, Definitely not.

-----------

Hiksos lamented blast fully daring the credence of all his undoing. Unjust and bashful forwritten to layers upong layers of drug smitten landscapes.

“Youre good/” Said Jamie.

I see why she likes so much to hate on anyone she can get her hands on. And im not talking about physical hands. No, these are claws of misfortune. --The bad falls into a category still undefined by our human grasp.--

Apples on seminoles. Berries on amazing places we strove for.

The graveyard was pure and unassuming as a place for the dead should very well be. And with that we took our ritual to newer, more fulfilling levels. Levels of which determine our outlook as shades between optimistic and cautiously realistic. With our futures in the balance,

“Whatchu think dawg?” said Jerry. He was on his 2nd beer and 5th shot of vodka sprite. and I was on my mind long enough for nothing to be worth a damn. The vibe was dull, and the smoke gone. I lit a cigarette.

“I feel like shit.”

“You good?” J

“Yeah but I’m just tired like overall.” About life.

“Why not be happy about life? It’s all in your head. Just flip the switch. Like a light. On and off. Boom. No more stress.” J

“If only if it were that easy.”

“It is that easy. That’s the thing.”

Sipping heroically, going farther and phasing out all menial contrivances. Searching for myself like the lost land of atlantis. Humanity will get what it deserves.

“In due time” said Thomas.

I look at orion and wonder if those faint stars below its belt are actually indicative of a warrior kneeling on one knee with his shield raised or if its a flaccid penis that hangs all the way down to his knee. Im a pervert, always have been. Theres no stopping how much i will crash thoughtforms together in a heinous way until they stick together and form a common truth. I’m on the last life cycle of a cat’s 9 lives. Theres really nothing to lose by being a pervert. I had a friend in high school who said we’re all gay. I dont remember when. He said it more than once. I dont know if he was gay. I didnt think like that back then, but I wouldn’t to be anything other than who I am today. But again, there’s no stopping a mind so spiritual that it can hold each and every possibility at once and consider them valid. Then an external force canceling out my infinity. And I’m left to deal with people as if playing some sick little game thats suppose to teach me a lesson or something. So that I can ascend to the next plane of existence. At least thats what I’ve heard. But when the night hits and everyone finally shuts up for once it seems much simpler than that. Like im watching myself through a lens bestowed on me by a god with no intelligence. And during the day he becomes intelligent, and I’m left trying to keep up with, on his terms. “Fuck you bitch” I tell it often. “Youre not real” I’d say over and over. “What the fuck” is the saying that gives closure to it all. The only reason God looks good on paper is because it’s a testament to the author being strong enough to have it in his mind and make sense of it. It’s a mark people wear like aushwitz that make their beliefs somehow something you should pay attention to because I’m physical and God’s not but I speak of God so therefore God’s physical so you should listen to me. But then thatd make the speaker God.

By and by I’ve messed up hastily my dreams and aspirations. Tattooed on a building as ink drips down like an inner angst perceiving things as they are, and not what society says they should be. The happy medium an ephemeral code that could shift and shake into any causality one deems it to. The rulers of the world have taken domain over the one thing every human on earth has in common. I call this desire. They call it money. A body that begets greed and turns hatred to lust. Actions which motivate our inhibitions to phantasmagoria. Until we accept our place as lesser than the pettiness of our common folk. Shy and afraid, contingent upon basement dwelling lab rats who fane logic to reasonable bell curves while sucking nature dry of her own resources. The very nature that sunlight reflects upon his incessant rays which batter and tumble the distance. If only they knew she was her and he was them. But it doesn’t go like that here. Because if it did, then all karmas coming to a head would get their just due, and we’d be in purgatory. While heaven remained for the gods and earth for the mortals. And nothing can be God except authority to mortals when they’ve been tricked into accepting the state and thus have become it..

What a lovely home indeed. No one could bother me here. Except for the only one’s I knew. Because nobody knows I exist except for those who know me. I’d rather keep it that way. For a streak of doubt can enter me at any time and cause worry for my future. A future still so far away because I lack the initiative to care. Maybe that will change now that I have room to breathe. Just when I thought I was going downhill for good, my dad came around for me. And now I have a responsibility to get me up in the morning. No more waiting in line for luck to befall me in my yoga. The truth is, when reality caved in itself, and I could see the dying whispers in the eyes of those around me, I accepted my estrangement from the happy things in life. My avoidance of the dastardly grotesque was keeping me back this whole time. I like darkness and pitiful efforts of circumstance that vibrate low enough to stay hidden from others, but high enough so that it is detectable by my astral receiver. Two of which is an outward expression of another. The extension of material that is necessary for movement to take place. Before this realization I endured through pain of my own doing.

“How are you?” people would say.

And I never had a response.

Telepathic centrifuges would scan my mind. Taking flight off far off reaches of iniquity. All facets calling upon a microverse for an answer. I an I. Then they’d be gone without hesitation.

“Jerry’s calling” said Thomas.

“for what?” This guy wont leave me alone, I thought.

“I don’t know answer it.”

“Why are you bored?” I said.

“Yes, maybe he has weed.” Said Thomas.

“Ay whatsup man. Me and Thomas we’re just talking about you.”

“Oh word?”

“Yeah and then you call its like divine intervention or something?”

“Yeah thomas was tryna find some weed and you the first person he thought of so you must be doing something right.”

“Yo Thomas.”

“Oh hold up let me put you on speaker.” I said quickly.

“Is Thomas there? Yo Thomas.”

“Jerry, whats good?”

“I got the pack man, I heard you was lookin for a come up. I got the pack man.”

“Aight bet cus im bored as a motherfucka right now ya feel me?”

“It aint my fault.”

“Yo he do gotta big ass house tho I aint gone lie but like shit aint got nothin in it.”

“I just moved here a week ago.”

“So for a whole week- Yo is today Friday?”

“Yeah its Friday.” Who cares? I thought.

“So that’s last Friday, Saturday, Sunday, Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, and now Friday, and you still aint got nothin in here but a fridge.”

“You aint even seen the whole house.”

“Nah you know you just in the middle of the carpet with no pillow no blankets or nothin.

And you wake up and go open the fridge and aint nothin in it. Then you go back to sleep.”

“Ay what he dream about?” Jerry said through the phone.

He aint dream about much ‘cept for one occurring dream. Of a fridge, but this time it’s a mini fridge. And its pink and he’s able to move it around, so he takes it up to his room and opens the freezer door just a little so it’s a little crack and he starts beatin it up till he has a wet dream and wakes up.”

“Alright you took it too far. It was kinda funny before but you killed it.”

“Wait, Where’s the fridge now? It’s not in the kitchen?” Jerry said.

“Bruh that’s the thing its just in the middle of the living room not even plugged in or nothin.”

“Jerry I know you so concerned about my god damn fridge but this time dude is lying over here.”

haha

“It’s in my kitchen like a normal person. Like I don’t know I guess you think this shit is funny or something but whatever come through and you can see for yourself.” Don’t talk to him he’s a loser was the attitude I was picking up. I thought they we’re beyond all that and capable of extraneous thought. Oh well, I guess I’m done with these idiots.

No more sitting around all day.

If I can see them for who I want, and not who they really are, it’d make no difference.

It’s a best of both worlds type situation. I just hate that I have to resort to this.

Its a sporadic and unpredictable endeavor that can detach you from life’s depiction. Seemingly framing a purpose in cosmetics among layer-caked mine field of mind clouds. I want to be a positive addition to those around me. And for them to be honest to me in return. Honest because everything around me is a nuisance. And dishonest It’s not necessary to have car insurance, police, governments. This realm is alive. 3 dimensions respective of splashes and 3rd parties. Because of this fact, I must be able to flow freely, grounded in freedom, estranged to control. Last summer when I jumped into the alleghany i felt freer than i have in a long ass time. Jerry asked me if he thought we’d still be here next year. I told him I didn’t want to think about it. That I was enjoying the moment.

“Man fuck that bitch.” T

“What? Who you callin’ a bitch?” J

“You know what I mean.” Thomas smacked his lips.

“I really don’t but whatever.” J

“Yo Jerry did you leave yet?”

“How far away is it? Not too bad right?”

“Nah it’s not too bad you’re like 30 minutes away. You’re in a nice area. Lots of rich people.” J

“Yeah I came up on it. It kinda just happened.”

“Whatchu mean it fell out of the sky?” Jerry asked.

“It’s been in my family for a while and I was lucky enough to be gifted it.” I said.

“That’s dope, you’ll get some good use out of it.”

“Yeah I’ma take advantage of what I got ya know? Make it so anyone can pull up as long as I fuck with them.” I said.

“Thats why I’m comin’ through.

Just say its the spot and I’m there.”

“For sure. But yo, if youre bringing your girl over then bring some pillows and blankets to sleep on cus I only got mine.”

“I need some too.” Thomas joined in.”

“We’ll stop then.” I said reluctantly.

“

“And where are we gonna chill? We can’t just sit on the floor.” Thomas took his eyes off the road.

“Alright, theres a home depot near the chinese place we’ll go their while we wait.” I said.

“Does Home Depot have blankets?” Thomas said like he was so concerned.

“No but they got that outdoor patio section for furniture and shit, So I don’t know we’ll find something.”

“They got mad carhartt jackets for the low low there. You should check them out.”

“Alright I’ll check them out.” The streetlights suspended time in space.

“Yo spicy egg rolls, add it to the list.” Jerry said finally.

“Sounds good.” Thomas replied. There was a pause.

“You headin’ out?” T

“Yeah. I am. Right now.” Jerry responded.

“A’ight I’ll see you when I see you.” T

I interrupted.

“I was gonna get spring rolls instead and we don’t want too many rolls so you want dumplings instead?” The thought popped into my head and I had to get it out.

“I dont really care either way” Jerry said.

“So yes on the dumplings? Pork, Chicken or beef?” I said.

“Dude I really dont give a fuck.”

“A’ight peace.”

“Wait actually get some extra spring rolls. I don’t want my breath to stink.” Jerry was a quick thinker.

“Okay. Peace.”

I ordered the chinese while Thomas turned the radio down.

It was 7:30 on a Friday. Traffic was still out and slow except on the highway. The plaza where Home Depot was sat on an indent so that a perimeter around us denied the sun a chance of bringing light to the inevitable darkness. Highway barricades exalted the east coast away from our position. I closed my eyes and listened to newly formed divinations stemming from a horizontal after-glow. What was AM was now PM. And just as I would prepare for a weekend of contract work, I too was going to do the same for the night. Because Friday was in the air, telling me I was the cause of it.

Thomas pulled into the lot and flicked his cigarette a stop-sign to an array of F150s and pug-faced express vans that sat high enough to deem his reliable, good on gas mileage, crusty seated hand-me-down first-car shit-box a worthy proponent of wu-wei. It was the type of car that doesn’t speak for anything or reflect an image onto its owner other than its being there.

At least this one had a little personality though, fashioned by who was behind the wheel, and the fact that I knew him through drive-ways of careless faces, drive-thrus, and drunken waffle house binges where we kept to ourselves and almost forgot it wouldn’t last. And even though the universe proved its worth to me, I cant help but feel theres in imbalance in my past.

That these were just moments. And days would go by. Blunts would get passed. Pets would die. We’d hope to not hear of our relatives dying, but that would happen to. Cause of death? Old age. It wouldn’t say that on the obituary. It was say something safe like stage 4 cancer or hodgekins lymphona. But everyone knows about the cap put on as at birth. That there’s a limit to how long we get to stay here. Sometimes we’d hear of our friends dying too. But those were rare cases. Few and far between. Unless of course you were the type of kid to attract that sort of stuff. Then you probably deserved it anyway. That pain. Irregardless of the pain it takes to die. You imagine how it must have felt in the body of your friend. Like they we’re on the otherside begging you to come with them. I’m free. They’d say. It only hurts a little. And unlike the old people, their obituary would read suicide. Basically an off-hand way of saying they needed jesus. Because in the end, nobody truly knows what would drive someone to do that to themselves. We can speculate all we want. They we’re bipolar. They wore funny clothes to school and we’re bullied as a result. But only someone with special access could consult them on that. To ask them why they denied life and chose death instead. Only someone who could be objective about the whole thing and not get caught up in their emotions could ask them this. In America that’s Jesus, God of funeral homes, shepherd of lost souls. The frustrating part, at least to me, is that all he can come up with is it was Satan’s fault. But that doesn’t do it for me. No. I need more than that. After all, Jesus, you faked your own death and ran away to the pyrynees. Did you not? You we’re too afraid to commit suicide. You half-assed your commitment. Maybe you knew what awaited you resembled a sleepless dream? Certainly you knew another part of you was fit for ascension. But then wouldn’t be the center of attention like you we’re on earth. You’d be around people who knew a light language and we’re just as smart as you, if not smarter. The applied principles of the sun was common knowledge there. That was like basic shit. Nobody was looking for preachers there. What they we’re looking for was way more advanced than your little yoga techniques. Stop hiding and tell us what’s really going on out here. Something tells me it has something to do with Satan, just not in the way you’re telling us. I have a feeling he holds the keys to a piece of knowledge we never even knew existed. If that’s the case, and I find out we’ve been duped, then I might just take it upon myself and offer you the same fate you offered my friend when he was down bad on that fateful Spring night mad at the world and pissed off at the hypocrisy you created for him. But this time when I get to you I’ll make sure you won’t be down bad. There will be nothing to numb the pain. No. You’re gonna feel this. Then things will come full circle. Order. I like when things happen that way.

“Yo I need paint. “

“ Paint?”

“I just remembered. For the walls.” I said in a descending volume.

We walked through the doors in the purgatory between store and street. I grabbed a cart.

“Is that what we’re gonna do for fun? Man I might regret this whole night if we end up hanging dry-wall and shit.”

“I hear you bro but we can play poker, I got a speaker so we can bump some music, and we’ll just kick it.”

Thomas strayed passed the check-out lines and almost ran into a stack of wood hanging from a guy’s trolley.

“Where are you going?” I said.

“Where’s the paint?” He said turning around.

We looked like we should be in the city rather than the hardware store. Everyone was looking and I know I’m not paranoid when I say that. We we’re foreigners visiting a small scale metropolis under construction. A place for bandits to face their acrophobia and not make it across to the next tower without getting grime on their gats ort hope they liked our style.

"They got krylons?" I said. The aisle opened up where the rafters stretched through the ceiling leaving ground level two by fours in their dust. If I focused I could hear an echo reverberate off my skull, taking its merry time and judging me before I could hold my breath. “We used to be so into this.” Thomas said.

“I don’t know why we stopped.” I said. He took it as a valid question.

“We got older I guess. Fuck.”

“Remember the overpass on Holcomb Bridge? I wonder if our shits still there.”

“We need to go back there.”

Gum soles in an unfinished basement. This was the most people I’ve ever seen. a’ve ever seen. The fire marshall could’ve came knocking any moment. Though I don’t think anybody would hear him. Lil Pump was 3 doors down. To the fire marshall, is that everyone was moving as one. To the fire marshal, this could be a good or bad thing in the lens of a fire marshall. Good because if someone started popping shots off with an uzi or something and everyone tried to run out the house through the basement side-door, the main one through the hall at the back by the bathroom, or if they went up stairs and found the wrong door and had to jump off the balcony or something, if shit really started to pop off like this, of shit really hit the fan, then it’d be good to have 1 body instead of a hundred. There we’re straddlers of course, but all they’d have to do is hide in its belly folds and hope to not get lost while the body was hauling ass down the street resorting to the dreaded question, “Can I get a ride?” And simply put it’d be bad because human flesh burns quite well when laced with alcohol. That was a risk we were willing to take and that brought us that much closer together.

When I came in with Katie I noticed the crystalline qualities of blonde hair captivated the vibe and were on display in the trim lining. When you looked across it was like some secret edition of the yearbook where everyone didn’t have to pretend they liked each other.

Only this time there were no profiles, only shadows. And instead of signatures there were tattoos on skin that said things like “im too good for you” and “the sky is watching.”

What collected at the corners were pushed outside to observe that ways a part equidistant to the cups on the table to the enthusiasm among them. This was inside. Everyone needed to make sense and not be meta. You couldn’t point out how we were all here by chance like Tommy did, “xxxxxxx” What an idiot. You couldn’t speculate as to why Rhea spent the whole month showing out for sympathy on twitter and crying at school over her breakup with Nick but is now falling on top of him, grabbing his arm and shit and Nick’s just going with it like he doesn’t care his best friend got sucked off by yours truly in front of everyone at last weeks party and he was there and she was there and it was all fine like nothing happened. “Well Nick got with Mercedes, and her and Rhea ignore each other now. It’s really awkward.” Despite the fakeness, there was an heir of trust unlike any ive ever seen here unlike back at school where we’d be leaning into our cheeks thinking about how to score more brownie points with the cliques we were in.

At least that’s what others were thinking about. The teacher’d be talking about solving for y for the millionth time, you know, moving things around by reverse operations to make sure they maintained the same relationship with one another. I never had to study because when it came time to test it’d be like the answers’d just come to me and I’d end up acing the damn thing. I became known as a smart person who didn’t care so everything canceled out and I was able to stay neutral and move between the punks to get drugs, the nerds to get power, and the popular kids to get access to parties like the one I was at now. I know this all sounds vain, but I guess that’s how it works when you’re a teenager still trying to find yourself when everyone else was doing the same but would rather die then admit it. Now that I look back I realize the whole thing was meaningless. There was no substance, no fulfillment. High School was mostly waiting with small pockets of being thrust into the limelight. Just a series of empty promises leading nowhere. You could of met your better half completely in the midst of knowing each other at a soul level but all indications were that it wouldn’t last so you made excuses and broke it off before it was too late so that your future could be at least bearable when you we’re laying in your cheeks mad at the world wondering why you were the only thing you could think about. You could rest your heart on your decision. The sex flashbacks at the most random times like talking to your grandma or waiting in line at the grocery store didn’t matter anymore. You could put it all on that. Your decision.

“Daniel, I’m so glad you could make it.”

“Likewise Sharlene, I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

“Oh how sweet of you to say that to me.”

“Wait, why are you guys being so formal?” Katie said like she overheard.

“We should stop.” Sharlene said. Daniel was taller than all of them.

“How was your day?” His eyes got bigger. Crazy.

“Did you have a good day?” Leaning forward with his back against the counter.

“I did have a good day.” Sharlene said. “Did you?” She put her hand up and when she realized this she snapped them across her face and into his.

“Mr. Sassy?”

“Mr. Sassy!” Some dude in a hat with lettuce coming out said.

These we’re the types of exchanges that went on inside. Loud but cold. All in the vain of attention seeking like some sort of competition or test of brilliance. Only that this time unlike in normal society, where everyone’s trying to get their point across as clear and concise as possible because focus is king over style, this time brilliance was a stage of show. And whoever could hold onto it the longest was most certainly king or queen and surely the apple of their eye. Their being the cult that was the inside.

The 5 of us ended up by an air conditioning unit. We were staring at the moon thinking about what do next because we were already exhausted. Not because we weren’t faded enough. It was quite the opposite. There was too much judgment. And that was as bad of a high you could get when you were on the other end of it. We were over it. We were desperately passing a blunt I’d been eager to light since I rolled it in the car.

“I needed this.” Jerry said.

“Yeah? Me too.” I looked at Katie. She’s the one I rolled it with earlier in the day when 4 different people we’re blowing up my phone asking if I was coming and telling me who I could bring or not.

“I don’t know it’s just like the vibe or something. Like something’s off.” Tom said.

Katie was mostly quiet and sipping the blunt with her cute little hands and was gravitating towards Miranda in a nonverbal display of boredom.

“We don’t need to talk about it.” Jerry said.

“We really don’t.” I agreed.

“Talk about what?” I’m just saying.” Thomas said after a pause.

“Yeah I know but I’m not about to go behind their backs and gossip like we’re not fuckin’ with it thats cool we can do our own shit.”

“So what are we gonna do?”

“Is there anything close?”

“You tryna go to waffle house?”

Katie and Miranda laughed. First Katie snorted then Miranda bent over and held her knees.

“What are y’all tryna do?”

“Uhh can we just get out of here?” Katie said towards the street.

“Yeah. Let’s walk.” I said.

You left your memories with me.

So you could live without you.

You left your past in the dark, and

it was something you did for the hell of it because life

was too easy for you.

"What's wrong?" I said.

"Leave with me." You said.

"Is something bothering you?" I said.

"No." You were always in the dark.

"Where?"

"I don't know. Anywhere but here."

"I can't tell if you're being serious." You threw a rock

down the train tracks, and pointed where I was looking.

"That way's North to Chattanooga." You turned around.

I leaned to the side as if I was peeking down a narrow

hallway.

"South to Miami. Hmm. It depends." You said rubbing your chin.

"It depends on you finding a girlfriend so you can get back to reality is what it depends on." I said.

I dont think a single car

drove by since we got here. Moving trucks could be seen on the overpass where the crossing signals were, but were inaudible. The only thing audible was the large-scale kithen across the street which would hiss occasionally over its constant hum. It also had steam coming out of it. We walked towards the red-light on stones half the size of our trainers and went to balancing on the rail half to avoid twisting our ankles and half to ammuse ourselves.

"I was gonna say it depends on what's better, a good ol' country bitch who'll cook you catfish till you cant eat no more, or a bad spanish mommy who may or may not be there for you when you really need it."

"Oh, si senorita Hot like tamales. Muy bueno.

Como te amos rapido rapido mucho Miami me gusto."

"Bro we're hopping trains not borders

you fucking wetback."

"Whoa, hold up ese, you're hopping trains, not me.

Besides, we'll be hopping on a lot more than trains

if we keep this up." I said.

"Trains not borders, puto."

"Man watch your mouth."

"Here comes one now."

ijijiijjiiji

We hid in the bushes. It seemed like the right thing to do.

Me fist then the girls and Jerry while Thomas was last in..

"We should of put a coin on their,:

*End graveyard party and go into chapter about family* BONES laden arrows

----

Just say its the spot and I’m there.

“Jerry just texted me.” I said to Thomas.

“What’d he say?”

“He’s bringing Erica.”

“Why was it even a question?” Thomas said. He was flipping his head back and forth at me. Zig-zagging from hinges to nails to glue guns and floor tiles, biding his time, sulking like i was gonna feel sorry for him.

“I don’t know man. I’m sure it had something to do with his roommates not being out.” I said.

“Well if his initial reaction was him being scared then what that tell you about what he think of us?”

“Nah. You’re thinking too far into it. He’s tryna get her to let him hit.”

So much was out of context. There was disharmony. I continued.

“Maybe there’s something about two dudes without girlfriends that isn’t exactly the most potent

“

Smoke stacks comply and hesitate partaking in sport. Indulging in an aptitude that continues to see how it feels when you say such simple words as “hello, and, thats cool.” That continues to touch a nonverbal membrane when you move in such a way that broke the color barrier between black and white. So I’ll appreciate you like all the others do. Because I, completely and utterly, should know to carry you with me into infinity. And I should know, for a fact, that distance is dependant on its terminal velocity at the moment of impact. Gorgeous you are when tulips gather around cow pastures only to wither away upon the changing of the guard. Tip toes, necromancy, ice skates, all these make sense to me now, that ever since the day of my christening, good beings struck witherto my intelligence and rendered them useless. These knots, the qualities of which we’re twisted, utterly finagled to a degree that crystallized under pressure. I feel like I was born so I could come into people’s live when they needed someone to blame their problems on. That’s why I always get those stupid looks. Sometimes I just wanna ask them like “what the fuck are you on?” I guess all those diamonds couldnt teleport you out of here huh? Too bad. I ain’t judgin’.

knotted in purpose.

Oh how I looked on in brevity the callus threads that stretched for miles upon miles into causeways of blindness which overtook me in haste. Very painstaken I was in the trials before then. But now I see the reason for them. For nothing could have felt better than to be relieved of all that built up stress which churned and churned until a mechanism of ventricles let go in common translation. Like ruminating gats and dust swipers caged so discreetly so as to fixate on unto sizzling barge-heads. Almost as if silly esquires of desperately manifold doldrums exist solely to highlight the difference of deceit and merry. the difference of you, a you, and I, an I.

“Man I need blankets.” Thomas said.

“Pillows too.” I said tracing the outer perimeter of Home Depot.

Them Carharrts nice too. Our eyes met at the rack.

“I bet you could fit a gun inside this.” Thomas said feeling the durability of a canvas hoodie in brown.

“No I don’t have a gun.”

“You should get one.”

“They got em here?”

We fell out of the portal.

____________

Vicious bar flies and scarcities falsify the other-half.

“It is settled” said Chief Wallitzer

“Then buy more plankton from the Chief” A creature said. Decrepit. Monsteral. Lectivicious. The creature continued.

“And as soon as I stray a lochness is when the fortifications manifest wholly and without contempt.” I must ignore him.

“What am I to do?” I said on the levy.

“Take a boat from the garter over thine gully there.” Said the Chief.

And I summoned a boat from his power.

“I’m crossing.” I said under my breathe. I said aloud.

“Bless you Chief! Aye. May good fortune amass in your possession!” Because realization finally hit me, that I was to join my comrades in battle, once and for all.

“Aye, and to not flee as well.” This was the last I ever heard of the Chief.

--------

Today I’m going to buy a car.

Anxiety is a MK Ultra Mind Control Tactic (designed to keep humans subordinate to the matrix) ((which is ran by the 10%))

(((who answer to archonic entities from the 4th dimension)))

Logical reasoning is when an internal problem is identified as separate from the self so that it may not be subject to the whims of ego, which is fleeting and irregular, and stems from an evolutionary need for man to keep desiring more and more mates to reproduce offspring with so that his tribe grows strong in number as opposed to getting complacent with having one or few mates, retiring from the world, and letting him and/or his offspring die without a big enough tribe to defend them from bigger tribes with more man-power. Humans have advanced beyond the need to reproduce. In fact, Over-population is an existential threat to the continuation of humans on Earth. Because of this there should be no desire to reproduce. However, there is still a desire to reproduce. This is because the consequences of over-population like famine, disease, and global warming have yet to be internalized by most humans. Once it does, there will be no desire to reproduce, and all remaining sub-strata will go too. These remaining sub-strata include love, greed, and status all begotten from the main desire of humans, which is to reproduce. The reason that is

The main desire of humans is that humans want to survive. If humans didn’t want to survive they’d be dead. If humans we’re dead they wouldn’t be living. And if humans weren’t living they wouldn’t exist. Additionally, If humans didn’t exist they’d be nothing. And If humans were nothing they wouldn’t be something. Finally, if humans wouldn’t be something, as in, they we’re in a state of denial towards the very notion of being something

with the very notion of that word and all the associations it comes with,

Finally, if humans wouldn’t be something, as in, they we’re in a state of denial towards being something,

knowing full-well the associations it comes with, then humans would be refusing their ego, which is fleeting and irregular.

Once this desire (to reproduce) is gone, then allser forms of this desire like

and not get his needs are met

be processed in an objective manner, and not subject to whims of ego

solutions can be formulated in an objective context, and the solutions necessary to overcoming that problem, may not be weighed against emotion, which is fleeting and irregular.

and it’s existential

consequences, both good and bad, can be weighed objectively against

solutions that are based in reality

The distinction between needs and desires is a matter of time. Needs are immediate. Desires are built up over time.

The distinction between needs and desires is, in fact, only a matter of time

Anxiety needs to be alleviated when there’s not enough time, but it should anxiety will be alleviated because their is time. .

^^^^^^^^^cap*********

*********************

Anxiety is when an internal problem needs to be alleviated. Its just that the actions required to alleviate said problem seem far off and distant. So much that you begin doubting your abilities as a measly human and turn to a god instead. When this god doesnt fix your problems your anxiety is compounded heavily. Because you have one more problem than you started with. If you couldnt hold a candle to your first problem, being as their solutions were so far out and demanded too much in a short amount of time, then now you got a doozy on your hands. All we can ask for is perfection, and hope we come up short.

********************

************

//All God can ask for is perfection. That’s why he doesn’t relate to us.// If you had a bag that led to another bag you wouldn’t keep the first bag cus it’d already be in the second one. These are the ancestors working behind the scenes.

then what makes you think

Our teachers taught us proper sentence structure in the third grade. A subject followed by a predicate. The subject is invoked and the predicate carries the burden like a hag witch carries it and thus justifying the subject so that it is not floating in space, susceptible to being bothered by minds whose job it is to question things that float in space for no other reason other than to not have a purpose, and stand as a monument against all these grammar nazis stand for. So viciously chaotic, free in its lightness, completely unencumbered by menial contrivances of formality, it seems, are these subjects without predicates stand unapologetically in the vast concourses of space as monuments against all they stand for. The problem is that words can only do so much when describing a subject. Whether it is a noun or pronoun, abstract or not, a person, place, thing, or idea, it could even be an interjection, the problem is words can only do so much for describing the essence of a thing, the unseen force which discerns certain vibrations as unalike from one another and neatly packages them into a frequency at which the brain can perceive.

certain things as unalike from one another and neatly packages them into a frequency that vibrates at a rate at which the human brain can process through its hypothalamus and perceive them as things in the 3rd dimension.

apart from the rest is limitless when not bound by words, which can only be deduced as a lesser form of magic.

Thomas and I see the same things. Ever since our childhoods we were never separated. And even if we we’re, or it appeared as if we we’re, we always had the same eyes. Not just the same view, but the same eyes. I don’t mean that these eyes were like detachable lenses, that could be passed around to and fro like a can on a string, I mean that we’ve had the same experiences, just in different forms. And if we ever shared a difference of opinion, which happened a lot, like with this Erica thing, I never had to worry about things getting heated. Because no matter what, I could always fall back on us letting things calm down for a while, alone in our rooms leaning into our cheeks trying not to think about it. until both of us realized we were coming.from the same place, and that where, and to what degree we took it to, was ultimately meaningless.

I must be going now. It’s getting late. What time is it? 2:30? Jesus. Fuck. That’s later than I thought. Already? Oh well. It’s not like I can do anything about it. Anyway. What I wanna talk about is how fucked up you look to me, and I don’t know if you see that. I mean, if you can see what I see. Dread, angst, all of mine and your miseries seem to have burdened you. I want you to know that I’m here. I’m a man. I can fix my own problems. Really. I can. I may not look it but I’m grown. You don’t have to worry about them. Here, look at this picture I took last year. It’s of you and me. Don’t we look so happy? Happy. Is that the right word? Or maybe we’re crumbing for our last breathe of smile in us. Fuck. I’m beginning to think that’s true the more and more I think about it. Because you we’re never happy. Neither was I. But that wasn’t the goal for us like it is for so many others. No. We just wanted to get by. And that’s all we could ever ask for.

--jgcjgcjgcjgcgjc

I wanted to keep this sacred so it’d come across a more genuine when the right person came across it. but now the urge is too strong and the resonance too concentrated for me to dismiss the trailblazing force of circular momentum. And its nice out too. The grass is still damp from yesterday’s rain but not so you couldn’t lie in it. That’s what I did today. That along with thinking. Moving on. I won’t talk about personal experience in this article. The truth is I’m not important. What matters is my guidance. So from now on take my “I’s” as placeholders for something greater. Make it what you want. A parakeet, a landing pad, veganism, law and order, anything. It could even be the universe itself with you and me included. Whatever it is just don’t miss the point that follows this inconspicuous “i” because there is no truth, only different paths to getting there.

The truth is I haven’t been out the house in a few years. Sure there were gaps in between like parties here and there. But even then I was inside myself, leaving people to wonder if I was as social as I looked. Sometimes I was normal, others I was a wallflower. Only rarely did I meet their expectations and become the center of attention. I still remember those moments because I’m preparing for the next time it happens so I can maintain a sense of self better so that I can let it go and channel what comes out of me more freely. Some call this going into the world. I call it getting out the house. Leaving the nest. All those times i was still at home within myself. I never left my shell. There’s no point when that shell is filled with angels.

Language can be tricky. It can be used for yin and yang. It can be used for contuation or stagnation when concerning the path of self and how one wants to judge said self through language so that it may have something ethereal to manifest from. Before I continue I must say that there is a self because any indication of there not being a self relies on the suppusition there there is a self. Perception plays a role too, as in, agreeing or not to accept the definitions of the words you lay on yourself as true or not. The pessimist sees the world as signs and symbols and interprets stimuli af a higher level then the optimist, who is often naieve to the hidden world where everything comes from. This is why pessimists are often dualists. To the optimist it appears they are one-sided because they take them at face-value. Again, they are unable to see the hidden world where everything comes from. Those who fly under the radar appear that way because they are in direct contact with this world so as to filter their thoughts before speaking them. This world is a place pessimists visit often within themselves and rarely show out of. They show out only in dire situations, and that makes their actions that much stronger because they have kept sacred the hidden world where everything comes from so that it is pure and cutting-edge when it comes time to release it upon the known world. Like an endless stream does their wrath come out of them because they’ve been holding it in so long.

Anytime you insert the I into a situation is when a princible of measurement can be applied to you as infinite potential to fail or succeed relative to the third party as the perfect amount of what you needed to be faced with.

with chakra wheels that exist so we can find ourselves in a better light.

0 notes

nocancer · 5 years ago

Text

Angels as fake (ego-death.)

I won’t talk about personal experience in this article. The truth is I haven’t been out the house in a few years. Sure there were gaps in between like parties here and there. But even then I was inside myself, leaving people to wonder if I was as social as I looked. Sometimes I was normal You could say i was still at home. I never left my shell. There’s no point when that shell is filled with angels.

0 notes

nocancer · 5 years ago

Text

There is simply no ideal life, it is only a matter of choosing what kind of regrets you are willing to live with.

Hu Bo

31 notes · View notes

nocancer · 5 years ago

Text

Stark visions

Stark visions imprinted on Mel’s quickening tell him there was an aquatic existence before the sweat on his tshirt. I love when that happens. Better to be mentally ill for a time to sort out karmic sense

if thats what truth means. How many percocets will it take to forget the heartbreak of the Nuggets losing to the Jazz in overtime? Mel cant last no more like this. He takes a walk now. At least now he had the energy to get dressed. It’s night out. I love burgers. No neighbors are watching. Im boutta get some graveyard dirt. Throw it on my boss when he not looking. Mel works for Acme Co customer service and he is good at what he does. One day too many calls came in and he almost lost his shit.

The inbound surveillance system manifests crystalline pockets of verisimilitude into the astral projection of the moon. And lazer point focus. There is wisdom to be had in sidewalk paint. I love you

---. Sky divers only catch it when its too late. I love burgers. To Mel, 33, his last relationship was a bad dream then. I love burgers. And even now it seems a worse one deteriorating at the hands of spirits. I love burgers. Are we all programs of the matrix? I love burgers. It would seem so. I love burgers. So nauseating are those who point things out only to never expound on their purpose for pointing said thing out. I love burgers. Their existence enough should be worthy of conversation. I love burgers. As in, other people should feel, because thats what Mel does. I love burgers. Speak without knowing where he’s going. I love burgers. “What a view.” “Nice view, isn’t it?” “It sure is,” his Boss says, in Mel’s dreams. I love burgers. Because the moment never called for melancholy. I love burgers. And recently, nobody has even come close to that level of connection where itd even be appropriate to open up that bottomless pit. I love burgers. Mel’s the only one he knows who prefers to be lost in the face of structure and pyramid schemes. I love burgers. And the only one he knows is himself. I love burgers.

#postmodernbullshit

0 notes

nocancer · 6 years ago

Photo

That's just the way it is, crazy.

0 notes

nocancer · 6 years ago

Text

Tryna by Cancer moon

Before Young T went to bed he poured a glass of water and looked out the kitchen window to his backyard and noted how the snow made 3:00 A.M. look like 6:00 P.M.. Only difference being that if he stepped outside with his glass of water to the seeming twilight he wouldn’t be able to hear the rush-hour traffic like he usually could if it was Friday and 6:00 P.M.. Young T didn’t bother going outside because the snow was still falling a little and it’d be there when he woke up. And the neighborhood would still be silent, as it always was.

Young T woke up and his fan was still humming its white noise which he needed to sleep at night even though it was January and his dad was reluctant to leave the heat on over night. The small fan sat on his dresser and was pointed away from his bed towards his window which emitted a sharper and more blinding afternoon light than what he was used to. He checked his phone for the time, it was about noon - about the time where his parents bedroom door would open and their TV would blast the local news and his persian cat, Jo Jo, would meow at his door from which would force him out of bed to open the door so Jo Jo could jump up on his bed to sleep on his pillow from which he would either start his day or keep doing nothing. This time he laid back down, idly on his bed, with the covers pulled over his head to lessen the effects of his slight cat allergy. Jo Jo had a flat face and was grey and fat, and he occupied the entire pillow. Young T thought of how he wanted to trade lives with Jo Jo.

Young T couldn’t fall back to sleep, so he looked at his phone. He bireifly looked at worldstarhiphop, Twitter, then Instagram.

Then he went to bed with a head ache and woke up in college.

9/27/17 wednesday

Tycho: excuse me, hey, getting along just fine, I see? Yolandra: hey, and yeah, sort of, just studying, whats going on with you T: Nothing, the usual, i guess, being responsible, trying not to offend anyone. Y: Oh but you're so innocent. If anyone's offended its on them, not you. T: But my presence alone, I dont know, like I'm out of place or something. And I just want to tell people, Yeah, so, I know how strange it is, me being here and all. Y: You're a free spirit amongst prisoners. That was my favorite part about getting to know you.

Tycho: After all these years, not for a second did i think you were right for me. And thats why i liked you. Cus I'm crazy. Yolandra: thats okay? what do you mean?, i want to get inside your head again. T: [pause] Most people wouldnt understand. Y: Don't be too cool for school. Im not most people. If I knew what was good for me, I'd have cut ties with you a long time ago. But im a crazy bitch too. Havent you realized? T: Yes. Youre highly psychic when it comes to "free spirits" like me - and you, though maybe, "lost soul" would be a better term for me. Though I dont mind being lost. It keeps things interesting. Anyway, you should spend your energy on solving world hunger than worrying about me. Y: dont be so difficult. catching vibes isnt easy you know? coming for your type. Who knows, maybe youre worth it. Tycho: well, your the first to try me like this. im mysterious for a reason. Yolandra: And do you know why exactly? T: Thats for me to decide. Y: It's so damn frustrating. But I guess some things are better left unsaid. T: Most people wouldnt understand that, what youre saying. Indescribable feelings we know happened but fall short in explaining. That sort of thing. Y: I call those. "You had to be there" moments. Tycho: Honestly i never gave up on you, only myself, thinking you were different from my dream girl. it took months for me to realize that but when i did the only thing i wanted to do was forget i ever met you. Yolandra: than what? T: the rest of these simple people that surround us, they see in a way thats opposite of what i am. Y: how convenient it must be. to blame your problems on people you dont even know. and just say "fuck it." I envy you. T: just my luck haha. of being born into myself, my personality forgive me, i dont mean to be such a downer. thats my ego talking Y: you had to be there T: where? Y: in my memories. T: it matters that much to you? Y: if I could find you in a crowd, just to say something, anything, even if i have to scream it in your ear, then you'd know how much it means to me. Tycho: I'll be waiting for you to say hola.

9/30/17 saturday In the midst of an obnoxious trap beat I remember what my grandpa used to tell me. It's the harsh realities of life that stick with us the most. A dream is only a dream until you make it come true. Never hit a women no exceptions." He would say to a 7 year old me. Now I wish I had the balls back then to tell him that his strict army ass probably never had a dream that went beyond what he already knew. Like revisiting the same shitty cloud of meaningless thoughts every night till you reincarnate into someone who revisits a slightly less shitty cloud over and over until they become someone like me, who lives on the cloud everyone strives to be, forgetting those elvish looking folks of the below who never leave the house except to get groceries. There's comes a point in life where you just gotta be honest with yourself, and say hey, i just dont match the freqeuncy anymore. It's okay. I can still pretend like that one MGMT song, but im fading away. Fuck. I get naseous and imagine a cop coming around the corner which kills my vibe for a second so I take my headphones off, spit on my finger tip, ash the blunt, and walk to my dorm. I'm in water so muddy that the surface is all I have to cling onto. What lies beneath is my past, housing the memories like demons. Of course, her face, would be in the middle. Falling more faintly in detail as I wake up sober and go to sleep high and dream nonsense that somehow doesnt go away like the usual forgotten dream you usually wouldnt give a second thought to otherwise but this morning my head feels foggy and theres a vague recollection of a search going on but I dont know what it's for and my chances of knowing diminish as I go deeper into the day. A search, it's on repeat, like my brain is an actual TV. Thats probably a normal thought to have, though I've never heard it in real words. "Is my brain a TV." I say to myself. if you can call it that. but those take the shape of monsters of which, as if I had no choice, I find myself preparing for so when the moment really matters, I can either go down in a blaze of glory or come out on top like the badass I imagine myself to be. All I know is that I was born and now I have to live.

Maybe because my past is so glaringly depicted onto a person I refuse to acknowledge. All that shit was a dream. The only thing that matters is the present, right? Bill Nye the Science Guy would agree with that. Back in elementary whenever we had a sub for the day, a cart would roll in and thats how you knew. I watched his show in elementary school, when we had a substitute teacher. Those were the best days. I had no worries then, able to speak freely with no inhibitions as if duality had nothing to latch its mechanical claws onto. Wait, I'm thinking about the past again. And thats going way back. Fuck! Okay.. On your feet soldier! That baby momma drama dont fly out here in the real world. out here it's the winners and the losers, haves and the have-nots, thats the way it is.

We're here to endure anxiety. I dont care about this slave shit. I think im gonna drop out. These fucking people bro, I shouldve known better than to come here. Deep down in the recesses of my highly realized capacity for recognizing everyday objects I'm hearing the voice my computer makes. It just so happens that I'm a little different from everyone else. I see things. Feel them. Some are expressed. Others proccessed. Though most get put away for later. These things I speak of is all they'll ever be to Some bad. Some good. But in the end I understand the root cause is nothing and thats where I pretty much exist anyway. In between any and all things, including people. At least that what it feels like. So although I may come off as shy and maybe a bit soft to the average layperson I aint no bitch and I wont hesitate to put my body on the line to make some headway when it comes to cementing my place as a savage demon in the halls of said layperson's memory bank. Someone who is wise would recognize the virtue of my conviction It is only because I must prepare for that singular moment, an unknown point in the fabric of time and space. To where if theyre not careful, a life's worth of energy should be pitted against me as if one were to stand a chance against the power housed within my vessle. Theres no such thing as a polite gesture. Nobody asks me how my day is "going" for no other reason than to relay to me how their own special day is "going". reckoning between a humble acknowledgement that I can never truly grasp the reason for existing and therefor should play my part in keeping the peace, versus pure badass in a world of sheep. And the more I get to know my surroundings, the more I reach erradically for the inherent bliss found within the path of satanism.

000t333g922276888o

Spmewhere off in the distance, Crermoth sits on a palm tree idly sculpting astral suspensions into a tattered fervor of mesh for working the keys of ineptitude. She is oblivious to her surroundings, not caring for chatty and gossip which she cant seperate between her reality and theirs because she is sensitive and when the the fully recognized sage, Esoh, confronts her about she says she much prefers it that way.

Their balance among them. With the wind at her side, Hojihka refuses the initial preference of her stillness and moves in a nameless precession by the whim of her ancestral birth right. "aaa may-ee soo shay-noo"

Her possession wakes up without a name. a new and more elaborate transposition of jubilee onto each successive indifference. The attention to one area renders the outer confines a vacuum enveloping the excess span unto both of their liable to taken over like a plain, sole, unconscious will. It certainly does its job Crermoth and has become something of a plan b pill thats taken during one of her many unpredictable episodes of self hate and general spiritual torment. One time she told J-Money she was a demon in a matter of factness that still haunts J-Money in moments when he pretends it doesnt bother him.. Reliant upon the interaction of her world and the next. Crermoth normally prefers being to herself on nights like these, that way she can answer any calls at a moments notice. A dimension close enough so that she may assist her friends in earthly manners of which, by the natural law of limitation, those lacking the incessant nobility of the Orisha cannot be bothered to see to themselves, less the tether between her world and theirs be rendered a useless tattered fervor of mesh that gives way to any varitable knock of an over arching brood of usurpment of the mundane frequency. “I need space. I only have but so much light of see to her calling as a being of light, assisting the pieces of herself that we’re lost during the falling. You remember that don’t you?” She says “Of course I remember. But only as a matter of fact. Upon closer reflection I fail to see the relevance of a subtle hunch with no bearings in the present.”

I must know that I’m allowed to be straight up with you, else I run the risk of straying from my calling. If there’s anything I hate more than being ignored its catching myself being lazy to the voices. “She musn’t veer to far.” Esoh said on a mountain.

999c4477P72222cv555566

The woman wakes up to look around. Store-bought soil, empty bike-rack, office building. "Harder. Think harder. Come on girl." She stands for dignity's sake. A car traces a hilltop in the distance. She raises her cold arms to the sun in defiance of stillness. Nothing is in tune with the nature of her being besides the stale wind of a coming day. "Where are you?" The car freezes as it reaches the horizon, but the sound remains on loop. Whirrrrr A portal manifests abruptly and Elegua arrives on a chariot of skulls. "Erzulie, madame, how nice it is to see you this early in the morning." A whisp of fire cleans her face and the car continues over the horizon. "It really shouldnt be, not like this. Where Im at should tell a lot you know." Erzulie said. "Quite a dense reply to a longtime friend, dont you think" "Hmm, considering how I slept in a bush last night and dont remember a thing. I shouldnt need to explain myself." "No? is the friz on your hair not matching the blood on your knees? I can't tell which." Elegua said. Or is the attitude possessing you as if theres no consequence for ill-manneredness? I cant tell which." So long as one's not so dense up his selfish ass that he aint notice." "Oh so now all a sudden you about the finer things in life? We can switch places less you miss me. Erzulie said. Im only pointing out the obvious." Elegua said. Erzulie replied with silence, forcing life to flash before his eyes. She learned this from her Mother, Darkness. "Attitude is possessing you. I cant tell why but its a poison I dont deserve. I was only trying to help" He continued. "I just dont fuck with being called too early. So long as youre not too dense up your ass to take notice, safe to say i'm in some shit right now." "Clearly. A product of consequence." Elegua said randomly. "Yeah, recognize. Please, for me, baby?" "No more testing your patience, Goddess immortal of justice. Save that for what I came to tell you about." "Take me to cleanliness, saintly promise of wisdom. For im not feeling myself." They left the scene to the past and pondered on the pyramid they had just made with each other. "It's nice to be home." Erzulie said. Flying over the palm trees brought Elegua back to his power. "On the basis of love." Elegua said. The salt-water washed away all glimpses of doubt Erzulie had of her beauty. And she harnessed the pastels of the ocean. Thus, all guilt was abolished and unconditional love was convinced to dance within them. Drying his body under the rays of Amen reminded Elegua of his first words. Long ago, before Time was born. "O Father, you are so brilliant." "Thank you, son. I am the Light" "Then tell me, Father, if you are the Light, and are so brilliant, then why is it you flee from Darkness?" "All I do is my purpose, which seeks to balance harmony with creation. Although it is much more complicated than that. Like always I suppose. I'm afraid you ask me a question that I cannot answer. Here, because you are so curious, I will show you." "I'm ready, Father." Light grew brighter causing Elegua to cry in his recollection of what it felt like to say words. The links in his mind straining to pull in the right words. Not too plain to where the moment would be lost in happen stance, and not too radical so that his manhood could stay irrefutable (to convey meaning.) Then Light disintegrated into everything and Elegua searched for Light ever since. So Elegua went to the crossroads, and prodded Darkness for Light's wherabouts, "I want to relive the the moments before he left for eternity. Where can I find him?" Without a hug or a kiss, she told him to let go of his experience in order to live in the now, "Take his place and move forward. Grow up, your Daddy's gone cus you never did." "How could you say that me? I love you, Mom. Yet all I get is hate. Why are you hiding the truth from me?" "If I don't hate you, then who will? You got so much to learn that my heart breaks into brass. You must leave, understand me? LEAVE, before I do what your Father did and them some. I'm this close. Believe me." With nowhere else to go, Elegua obeyed the commands of his Mother. Although lonely at first, the spirits of the dead related to his despair, and offered to guide him through all the known and unknown realms of Ether, so long as he guided the spirits of the living to his Mother. So that the dead could learn for themselves the origins of their being dead. And when Light came back, they could say "Father, we know of Hate, now teach us Love." Elegua tried telling them that it was hopeless, that his Father was there, just not in the way they imagined, that they we're actually his Father and they had to realize it through an altered perception. but that negativity only made them more adament to their cause which annoyed Elegua into a manic spell of existential irony which persisted during times of war with the Snakes on 5th density. One battle in particular Badly wounded, he pulled his chariot with his arms to the middle of a corn-field on a full-moon during the Solstice, it was there he made a pact with his self, to never be ignorant to the fact that fate was an inescapable constant within all contributors to existence. That the very fabric that distinguishes the dead from the living was comprised of scattered shards of an indestructable essence that attached itself to the spirit-body via fate which is the Father of destiny. That the collective conscious is woven by the thread of Fate, thus binding a common goal, or Destiny, inherent to all beings of both polarities, thus setting in motion the spiral of gnosis, which lends itself to the spreading of keys that open the doors to helping each other fulfill each others Purpose. "I will collect the pieces of my Father so that I may speak with him again as I did as a child. I will never forget you because I love you. You are everything to me, which is all I ever could be. Please, I want to know why you flee in the face of Darkness."

____10/9/17 monday

My pace quickens as I veer away from the crowd onto the handicap stairs. I silently count my steps to give off a pensive, non-assuming vibe. Over by the quad theres crows just walking on the grass. Yet I'm the only one who seems to notice, even from a distance. The busses haul ass down Memorial St. I've learned to always be on alert because I'll never know whats waiting for me when I turn my attention off the floor and become reminded of string theory. Artificial energy, cork boards with grime on the edges, tunnel of dull ends, spongy plywood cielings. as i step with my head down and in every so sudden a demarcation in the bricks, the reptiles answer emails. This is where I'm going. Because my soul chose to live here at some point in time not too long ago considering the relationship between all that the universe has to offer and my general apathy towards said all as in any and all one. Which has become quite of a bore ever since the first week ended I had to come to terms with the reality that friends won't simply fall into my lap like they would if I wasnt such a masochist for being lonely. The row of pillars turn to one and all I see is the contentment in the air of the lobby. In the hallway are casually turned faces which glide about in a linear fashion like the ghost of a lost bride.. I get a side-view of the people afraid to admit that this is far from the paradise we expected it to be. The brochure in our acceptance letters didn't include the drunken nights of another dimension. I'm inside the life of an architect. One who's dead by now, but lives on through his work. I'm not going anywhere, the building would say, if it could talk. And I suppose it can. Because I just had the thought, and nothing is ever truly wrong without another thought to compare it to. But then if buildings could speak existed first, and was allowed to grow and find its place in the universe, then it'd be established enough to not warrant an adversary. But the question remains where, if it existed, was its fate organized before coming into my mind, awaiting my final judgement. Substitute me for a unicellular collective conscious and it seems like we're all dealers of fate her on planet earth of the milky way of the universe of the whatever comes next (should we ever know for sure). he or she deserves all the credit for it manifesting onto the grid of my consciousness, which is a zig zag joint's worth of a high right now. The perfect amount for not giving a fuck while still staying slick enough for witty comebacks. Which wouldn't hurt right now. This building isn't going anywhere. Though I wish it would. Because I dread what I'm about to do How he must have pained to communicate something he could call his own while maintaining a dignified and safe, always safe, because god forgive, well, you know, , putting the pen to the pad, drawing collumns in front of a Victorian fassad Succumbing to authority just to eat with a roof over your head and not freeze your ass off like a homeless freak. Profit margins in the final half of quarter one are lower than 1 standard deviation to what is considered by corporate to be optimal. As of now, the college has no incentive to ship in product from outside sources. All inventory must be stored in house to the buyer's demand. You better not be late.

___ On the parking deck

Tycho: “I had a dream I was on an internet forum. Someone posted the words: “life is an endless hell. With a blurry picture of a street at night-time. Not much different from what’s in front of us. I thought that made sense, until I scrolled down, to see a video looking out the windshield of a vintage rolls royce, coasting along a pacific highway. And the lines kept going. Next thing you know I’m falling down a pitch black waterslide, dreading my destination. If I never woke up I have a funny feeling i know where it was leading.

Preacher: In that instance did you feel the need to repent for your sins?

Tycho: No. that didn’t cross my mind. It was too late at that point.

Miranda: “I used to.

T: What made it stop?

Miranda: Seeing all the happy people around me. And knowing that they’ve been through the same shit. Break-ups, Death in the family, just generally feeling lost.

My heart was broken ”

T: Getting over the mind can be a dark place when it has nowhere else to rest. You can train it to think anything.”

Miranda: True

Tycho: Lately Ive been taking these long drives late at night into the boonies. Just to see where I up. I realized theres so many lives I’ll never know about.

If i wasnt born into money maybe I’d be humble enough to hate myself for even thinking such a thing.

How’d you get out of that?

Miranda:

These know it all professors are getting on my nerves. I fear Im crossing into an abyss I’ll never fully understand. Honestly I can’t fuckin stand these people. What name do I have to make for myself that i haven’t already experienced in the depths of my soul?

Tyco: You know how they try to act like they all official and shit, like I won’t see past it.

Miranda: [agreement] They do that.

Tyco: [stream of consciousness] So I just told her look I know its a rule, but I’m all about learning at my own pace and no disrespect i love her but Mrs. Soso can only go so far in telling me how to write. You can give tips and tricks but at the end of the day, I’ve been developed my writing style.. Like I thought we were done with all this high school shit. Well I didnt say that.

M: And what’d she say?

Tyco: She was like “As you get further into your major 90% of your assignments will be in essay format.. we require full participation “ At this im like she gonna hit me with the book like hell nah THEN outta nowhere She said “However, I also believe in 2nd chances.”. On the outside I was cool but inside I was like “*fist bump* yo i cannot fail outta college like someone watchin out for me idk who but-

Chad: fuck that shiiiiit *holds up white rum in front of street light”

Friend in background: 12! 12! 12!

Abrupt scene change. Camera shows Tyco zoned out. Then police car, as Tyco begins to hide behind the tree hes smoking on.

My black hoodie and phone-call to my dealer will still be with me tomorrow as I do the same thing.

(From a dream 10/23)

Tyco is driving around serving with Shantel when she lights her phone up from the passenger seat and puts the phone to her ear.

Shantel: You are not finna be talkin all that mess on my phone. Be honest with yourself. Don’t lie. You a hoe ass bitch.

?? Caller: Why are you even calling me? I dont give a fuck.

Shantel: Wait till I pull up then and slap the shit out you. Would that be better sweety?

?? Caller: I’m at Kawaii’s 30 deep. Bring your lil boyfriend and see what happens.

Shantel: Try me bitch.

[ The economy sedan turns right on red seemingly without breaking. ]

Tyco: 30 deep huh?

Shantel: With them ratchets.

Tyco: She sounds scared as hell aint nobody sticken up for her like that. You know they gonna talk shit right but soon as we throw them hands they gon be like, I dont know that bitch.

Shantel: nah but she stupid tho like not even worth all that extra

Tyco: We’re going. Wheres that nigga house i’ll waze that shit and we get there we just pop off. Aite?

[Not looking at the road, but to her, coasting down an average 2-lane with box neon trimmed tire shops and drive-thru windows governed stately as immovable beasts of mothership stores lurk behind low-sodium trenches of the new world order’s surveillence agenda for mass poplations en masse. ]

Just follow me. I’m walkin in and gonna start a commotion just bussin and you just break this bottle on her mother fuckin head and we out.

Shantel: haaah what okay

Tyco: You’re gonna fuck her shit up som serious.

Shantel: She talk shit about you.

Tyco: It’s in the stars babe for real.

Shantel: You gonna help me find that bitch?

Tyco: You my fucken queen I love you and I got you.

Neighborhood entrance.

Cars parked for miles.

House identified first glance.

Park.

Car doors..

Hip-Hop

Grass.

Walkway.

Steps.

Porch.

Door opens and yellow tops within the frame.

!! WHERE YOU AT// YALL FAKE AND CANT FINESSEE !!

AAAAAH YOU UGLY DARK SKINNED NIGROS

The caller is sitting on a couch ass to ass with other dudes. Looking stupid.

She never saw Shantel. Who came upon her like The Ring.

She has become a party magnet. It is a Slayer concert now. Nobody knows who’s who. Though Tyco is surely getting his ass beat. He catches of glimpse of Shantel’s fat ass ducking through the doorway and he could die right now and it wouldnt matter.

*GUN SHOT*

FUCK GOIN ON HERE MANE

“This not the place for you bro. - White boy comin up here in my place of business - Tryna pop shit off like you really not a bitch”

Kawaii looks up with his glock-9 extendo at his GD party mostly all gone just like that. The poor girl is still leaking.

“She need to go to the hospital.” Her friend says.

He points the glock at his head. Despair.

“Look around before I kill you.” An invitation.

Tycho: “I sold a 4 oz today after my accounting exam. I could be GD, 74, rock purp. whatever it be its nothing but Respect yo. Got connects with chad and Becky nahmean dog. Could put you on to some numbers they white and they fiends. Please OG.

“How much for a zip.”

“80, gas.”

“Was that yo bitch?”

“yea”

Kawaii: You lyin to me?

“No.”

“She eat your ass?”

“Yeah and bounce on my BIG ASS DICK” Tyco says with autism.

K walks away.

T: they don't even sell Molly bruh

K is you fucken high you dummies. Beat this nigga ass. *Tyco imagines the why the fuck you lyyin vine and remembers the exact moment he realized that wasnt an original song but actually a spin off of a classic throwback jam by the 90s R&B group “Next” in their hit single “Too Close”.. He was driving home from the cafe he used to write high school essays in while smoking a menthol american spirit with the windows rolled down on a spring evening playing KISS 104.1 Atlantas classic jams. Then he realized there was a full 6 minute video of the vine on youtube. After watching it he felt gayer. Thats all it did for him.

Tycho wakes up on living room floor.Terry (random G, on couch): *Hands him note× Kawaii said he's sorry. No hard feelings ya heard dog?

Tyco: I guess thugs act on impulse. *looks at note* and don't count on a gahdamn thing you bitchass motherfuckers. Tyco walks into class with a black eye. The Professor talks about interest loans. Tyco meets Moe after class in parking lot.

*Moe: Waddup

Tyco: It's lemon og I just got in.

Moe: Bet. Those last cookies you got. Bomb dude. It had them frar mother fuckers leanin like they can't handle that purp like that nahmean.*laughs*

Tyco: I got some backwoods you wanna hotbox.

Moe: Yo I'm down.

10/24/17 thursday

____ Last night I decided not to hate myself. The look I get from them doesnt bother me. Really, its a simple sign from nature that I’m used to by now. A wrong impression can sustain the fog of memory, of which I will be seen from the lens of another dimension, with not a care in the world, an angel in disguise. Thats the crux of my life up to this point. To no longer hate myself. But appear as if I still do. The nameless place in our past with no address., one of which even a frat boy can relate to. This invisible standard that’s thrown us into the pits of despair must be addressed. To seperate the real from the fake. Like the others are sleep walking through class fronting like they dont see me. The pyramid of perspective is an accordian overlayed on my third eye, televising scenes of sleep walkers who stay fronting like they dont see me. Walking behind the parking deck where green dumpsters were with my phone to my ear is a feeling that remains within me until I do the same thing over again in a few days. Buying in bulk never appealed to me. And if a 20 a g was the price thered be nothing my lonely ass could do. Fuck this worthless paper, I tell myself.

I tell myself. Anyone who catches my glimpse pauses for a split second, calibrating my own opinion of the why in life. A definition of nuance that was never meant to be expressed but felt. To sense what I’ve been wanting, free and alone, after all those wasted days.

I’m signalling. Though I havent been approached yet.

Figuring that would resolve the look I give other people. I mean, christ, I turned 18 last March. And spent the Summer in a last ditch effort to secure an identity before I made my plays in college. For too long I’ve avoided the call of the light and in return have gotten blank stares.

(SOMEHOW gets wrapped up into a petty conversation with sorirty girl (on top of parking deck.)

Clarissa: I was the only one alone in the entire party.

Tycho: Why didnt you leave?

T: Dont worry I dont wanna know your major.

C; Good cus it keeps changing.

T: You think you know everything dont you? This world aint nothin babe.

C: Why do you say that?

T: What do you wanna know? That I get money? Thats nothin.

Clarissa drifts off.

Hannah: So Stacy’s telling me the banners weren’t in that right place and we’re like an hour away from starting and we still haven’t even got the chairs in order and barely anyone who was suppose to be here has shown up yet.

Tycho: Where were they?

“Well for one, Candace, I dont know whats her problem lately, but shes been gone because her best-friends now telling her she’s not rushing anymore but thats honestly a relief because that girl wheres winged eyeliner and thinks shes better than us.”

Tycho: Oh, I think I’ve seen that girl at the library or something.

I intuit that in order to justify her reasoning for not liking the winged eyeliner girl, that she channeled my very own resonant storm cloud of which I emit silently in the face of vanity..

H: Well you’ll probably see her there a lot more cus shes definitely not with us.

“Okay so thats one.” I say as if taking notes.

“Then Rachel’s out at some charity event that I never even heard of probably with a guy she’s not telling us about which is so frustrating that of all days you pick friday night at the peak of rush to go be a hoe behind our backs.”

“Did she ever show up to the party?”

“Yeah. And she was fucking drunk.” She said as if surprised but not really because this is Rachel we’re talking about, after all.

“Like wasted orrr “

“Damn I didnt know yall got down like that.”

“Umm when youre stumbling through the door and your first words to all the new girls is hallelujah bitches!

She wasn’t with a guy.

“So tell me more about the party. Like was there”

who nobody knows anyway

is that Cheyenne is just out of it because her friends now telling her she doesnt want to rush anymore and for one its like look,

Wait, who’s hannah?

Hannah’s the leader of her sorority.

Ooooh, Okay, I see why now

-Yeah, I mean if word got around that would literally mean she was going around their backs to cover up that she was lying.

> Right. Yeah I hear what you sayin. She’s trying to make it seem as if it never concerned yall in the first place but if thats the case then she dont need to be acting like she got the right to be trusted.

This goes beyond reputation. Manipulating emotions just cus she has none of her own. Conniving biitch. just to get her way goes beyond reputation.

Aint nobody wanna be around that energy.

> So what you tell her?

I get schizophrenic when it comes accepting new ways of being. The person I made him out to be was the perfect cure for my suffering. All those forgetful nights of boredom I knew what I needed all along, but was to scared to do it myself.

------ Frat house halloween party kidnap scene ----

GD shaman prays to shango for power to go out by mantra. Squad in car repeats the same mantra. The power goes out at 1:00 (or peak of the party).

Tycho throws blue flare through the side of the window

at the Tycho must find Chad and lure him downstairs near the door so the squad can get the keys to the room full cocaine and adderal. After looking everwhere he’s no where to be found. He walks in on a couple having with the girl in missionary with devil ears. “Yo chad that you?” Its

(fuckem x3) Music stops from power so he sneaks in wireless speaker in his robot costume and puts it at one end of the room. Squad member 1 will carry bigger wireless speaker and set it down when he storms in. Tycho also brings a timed strobe light to distract people and keep the illusion of the party still going.

Tycho runs down stairs and towards door with chad chasing him. Squad slaps tape and mask on him and carries like a battering ram although theyve already kicked the door.

*Power turns back on*

“Fuck em, fuck em, nigga get out my section

Don’t want to see him, I don’t want to touch him

*waves zippo lighter in front of face so chad can see him through mask*

“Ima count 3 seconds and your dead on 5 if i dont get this combination” says calmly. thus saiyth the lord thy god”

“Three... No mercy”

“Two.. Shall be given unto those”

*gives code*

“One.”

Love takes many shapes and forms.Tycho never opened up to people, hating himself for being incapable of feeling what others felt. He wanted more so he went spiritual. Which his close friends perceived as going off the deep end."Ayy whatsup bro you tryna smoke?""I have a calc exam tomorrow but I'm down after."Aight good luck on your studying tonight and then kill it tomorrow I know you got this calc is your specialty can't say the same for me but that's why you always tutored me haha."Let me know if you need more help. Figuring their was no bounds and he could be whatever, even silent, and experience irony rather than fate. How bland, he thought, to have a life plan and nothing to look forward to. Running drugs would be a necessary chain reaction. The highest elixer exceeding the bliss provided by the very weight he'd be pushing, itd be getting off on defying his own life, leaving spirit his only option. And so like a blackbird his soul seeks experience only in the clearest degree of visibility. Swerving transgressions of lonliness to levy the burdens of contrived responsibilities at societies every turn until his flight patterns veer from the trodden path to and fro the calling of reality in which he desires to preside over as a God of many statures. Untainted by works, head first into the entity of the adversary, of which he is able to predict the situational consequence in only a glimpsing moment before havoc ensues and the final hour is upon him, his loose wings coated with astral charcoal of depravity. Be caught slipping once and he loses the jump until the enevitable program takes its course - an unstoppable relationship between fate and reckoning that must be fulfilled as day turns to night. Once that happens he reverts back to being like the rest of them. Yet to the world, now desolated beyond repair, hed still be alive, exuding a calm presence that something is not quite right with him existing without remorse. The truth is simple enough, a hint just ever so slight as to never be able to cross the threshold of utterance, thus becoming rendered a convinction of self delusion on the part of the unknowing accuser, who by this time hates himself for even thinking badly of such a good guy to make peace with. The collage curtails past the illusion of what is already known and at last the watchers take notice and thus regeneration is able to take place along all the land, allowing for new energy to take the throne of anticipation. One that has harnessed the potential to become anything the wonder puts his mind too. So what if I'm imaginative? Yolandra: I mean everyone's different in their own way. Like yeah the soroitys have a dress code and all that Starbucks and capris. But I don't know. You just have to get know a person for who they are and not how the outside world perceives them to be. T: So what'd you first think of me? Yolandra: Honestly not much anything. You were one of those people who could be anything. But then I overheard you say taurus's are gold diggers and I hated you cus I'm a taurus. T: Oh sorry I really didn't mean it like that but c'mon now I can tell you have a taste for finer things you bougie little.. Boob. *laugh\ haha "you know what I mean" It doesn't bother you? What? That so much could go wrong so quickly? Look, deep down he's telling you his heart lies with getting over and you let him because that's /just what you like about him, how deep he gets. cus he's a sad and selfish individual who was never about loving anything other than vanity. The best thing to do would be to trust his actions, intentions aren't what's important right now. Really, forget about the soul connection. Loves comes through all types of people as long as you're open to receiving them. Those energies. Don't lose yourself in the illusion. Without ever taking credit for what truly matters which should be you. Then your fashion made sense to me. T: I'm so caught up in myself. I mean, it's impossible to know anything else. I'll never get to stand in your shoes. Its just truth. Yet I'm the bad guy. You're not like the other people I've met. T: Yeah I'm kind of loner if you couldn't tell already. I guess that's a good thing.T: Hey it's okay. I get that a lot... Wait what do you mean you guess? Ive found that who evers saying does a 180 in their normalcy. Knowing your even here right now is a good thing. Knowing that you're with me even when im not. Don't you think? Starting out with confidence and ending strong to be lucky if I'm not hurt. Tell me what you want out of this. Sometimes I feel so lame, then I realize how fun itd be to not care. Through the window screen i see parchments and grass blades, this is an image I've sought to ignore for its blandness thinking I was over recognizing such mundane structures. The sunlight made me drunk with non verbal contemplation. I crave this heat when I'm in low spirits. And a breeze when I'm high. My thoughts are channeled from a lonely place (My thoughts come from a lonely place) I've had no choice but to become accustomed to for my own sanity. To work faster and breach that veil of reckonning. So unreachable and enticing at the same time.T When I'm alone, welcome something more than the past if you ever cared to help me. This isn't the only world out there. And even if it was the material would eventually reach infinity. Then a black hole would open or something. Don't quote me on that, science is the hottest thing going right now. It cant hurt to butt in unofficially. As long as no one calls you on it. The universe molds to your confidence. That's another story. At the end of the day, I have too much pride to be a scientist. The God they're serving calls for a lot of self sacrifice. A self that ignores emergency when called to speak. A self i'm not prepared to lose. "Why are you here again, nothing will change, you're gonna be quiet like last time" any handle on reality I had during the sun rise flees like an ex girlfriend into the night. I'm not prepared to lose. Anxiety is that humid feeling you get when roughnecking the time away. Jaded peripherals, internet browsing, and fading friends initiate a color spectrum so cruelly vivid in its inability to be shared with the CVS cashier who looked at you wrong because you bought 3 4oz bottles of robitussin. A man who couldnt care to see the streets, stop signs, and traffic lights. Man is a slang term we use when caught in the moment. Of which matrix programming loves to grasp onto. --- 10/25/17 wednesday So here I am enjoying a piece of lackluster nothing for the sake of something I've agreed to experience in a past life I can't even remember but somehow must make amends to as if its an actual concrete thing I can touch and make sense out of without caring to ponder how life puts us in these type situations like getting your hair done a new way and meeting a friend of a friend superficially without ever following up like aight word up bro I feel you by the way hows life and what's the special fact I should become one with in this moment while not thinking too much in to things or else id be alone as if we're not alive under the stars for any other reason than to be happy but still to me that becomes too much like a flash in time rather than something meaningful because then sex would have to be our purpose for being here but you and I both know it's more complicated than that so we look into it via memories and realize the journey was brighter than the reward as in I don't remember the actual sex part but rather the day as a whole with stained glass sprinkled in on a film reel to push the past into something real and unexplainably alluring to the self of which we projected this light onto in order to perhaps know in advance maybe how to repeat this metaphysical phenomenon for a second time because we're not quite there yet although at this rate if seems that to finally reach a state of thereness would mean we wouldn't be able to be here right now having this conversation like a building block struck from below or a house of cards we have to keep faith that every moment plays its part because we had an emotion for it and therefore couldn't be rendered to nothing in a wreckless attempt force it all together rather let each tile compliment it's neighbor and bypass the need for destruction by allowing enough caring energy to flow through that filter mechanism within you that deems lifes moments as worth remembering or forgetting and pretend you never heard about forgetting and avoid it like the plague because everything that ever was is depending on you to go forth into righteous so that gods original intention for letting go of unwanted baggage be synthesized within your vessel of upgrades intelligence so that the journey can still be appreciated only this time without th deceptive veil of the end. to question the little things that somehow don't mean much but at the same time appear to us daily as conduits for good fortune and thats what we must uphold ___ 11/2/17 thursday

I you and me playcated on a surface of stones that match our longing to search in the wrong places. Convenient are we done such a conceivable time that is time which is also time because what more can be said other than us winding down a fire escape to an inexplicable hatch sitting like paper mache on our transformative spiritual natures. Gone already but not forgotten just make sure to take the negative side of every situation involving 1 or more parties so as to make sure the rythym is in order because you can't go wrong with challenging the status quo of an area you're not suppose to be in even if that seems too easy and superficial it's the right choice because even the idea of rebellion as a bad thing must be able to project into a physical thing prompt for examination so secrets may be revealed. Wouldn't you know i stopped believing in faith due to its redundancy of chasing metaphysical strings too far out for us to put into words and isn't that the source of all our angst. Depraved of propositional phrases and elemental tables it's all so clear to me now. Casandra had a bag and Mikey had his sneakers in the forefront like a low hanging fruit but of course they had personalities that weren't so easy to see unless the hard work of interfacing came into the equation. Lets judge people based on judging for the sake of basing ourselves onto something not within our realm of reality. Perception is a hard question i think maybe inanimate objects could tell us a thing or two. Low pressure sodium lamps.Documentorial lecture hall amps failing to reach the end of the pyramid turned 90 degrees away from its focal point. May disease not reach our unexplainable selves if ever they may inhabit our temporary vessels like a friend who has no friends but you and wants desperately to get along with others but is attached to your ways. Are we in hell? What can our astral travels tell us about signaling locations with Etheric marks of time dialation. Things are what they are by defintion or they wouldn t be things however stepping the observer up a notch sets in motion cancer to grow from the singular notion that we ourselves separate on a cost of lightening our load. I am partly responsible for this mess we have made. Pulling my hair out in thin strands so as to not make a difference. Some people just don't understand what it means to be so far gone yet in a place of enchantment that lets us know we're not alone as Michael Jackson plays on the ham radio and Wikipedia says the song was written by r kelly. I'm a solitary young man, joined at the seams complacency and red-ridden vanishing points to a line of sight I'd rather not identify with if I had a choice. I'm seriously considering becoming rich and famous despite others already forcing me to. I guess eventually my spirit will give in as my soul looks from a distance and says what a fool I am then goes about his day. You can't be like the rest of them no matter how hard you try. Thinking on the sensualities you avoided after this rap shit led you no where. The palace at the height of creation where Jesus stopped and stared to collect his thoughts before he kept going when his alarm rang as his slave bending consistency tracked the new melinnia into a moldy piece of sandstone cheese the better of which tasted nutty with fruity notes and 80% abv shards of liquid glass on the throat thatd make even an immortal weep a shy tear or two. The pigs down in Mississippi feel things we can't understand in their slaughterhouse decrepit and forwarned in a musk ridden air flow that's non existent to hypocritical angels who were supposed to stop atrocity but opted to sit on their ads and play virtua tennis all day. Oink says the pig. Hee haw says the donkey. Give me life says the God and there on the 30th night fags came to tell the story on their faces. The bag lady told them to shut up and stop whining but they wouldn't listen though they lost their ability to speak. Goodness gracious me oh my great balls of fire. Great balls of ball you are the Lord of my lonely century in this dimension I took awareness to when I allowed you into my heart space.And then I left asking my self: Who is this I?

755559888a

Let’s stand for a while and think about the dastardly ways we have gone under the waters and flew away from temptation. Have us saying isnt it so pretty to be in something and have that to fall back on due to the struggles of forgetting the place we come from which didnt always have it out for us this bad in refusing us of inconjunctions we can at least point to and blame our problems on saying “See! There, I told you so. That’s why we cant find our beginning!” And we’ll keep toilling the fields as halflings saving up for a chance to leave the very universe we serve. “So thats more like it. Finally something I can get my flows on to” Shelly the alien said. “The Stars dont have to like you just because you see them. They have their place and so do we” Gerald said. “Oh but they do.” “How do you know?” “Well for one they always shine bright at the most oppurtune times, like when I’m feeling down about the part of myself that conveinently seems to escape me just when I need it most. If that be so then put me on to something else and that’ll do just fine.” “Perhaps you're not as big as you thought ” Gerald held up his hand to salvage what was left of the dissolving psychic barrier between them. An invisible giant with an ocd issue. For now he could only listen. “No im not here to choose and thats exactly why Im not afraid to go where you can’t. Having the courage to admit your wrongs requires as much energy as universal rotation itself - a force which exists beyond our pleaidien awareness. ” “ But Shel- Okay whatever” Gerald paused and rolled the horizon through his scaly fingertips. “Keep calling on the unknown and you might get lost because it’s been there forever and sometimes Look, Shelly, no offense, you know I love you, but your awareness has no filter on what representation it can cling onto like danger isnt a reality to you. Me and Dazel always had to look out for you and thats just in this world what makes you think you can take on things you cant even see? “But do you believe in me? Anyone can say they love me. I’ve been hearing that my whole life. So much that it holds the same meaning as “um” does in conversation. Is that really the final conclusion we have at the end of the day? That you love me? Besides, I dont think you really meant that.”

“Here goes Miss Type-1 personality again. Always needing to label circles into squares, stars into gods, this as that, out of an inability to cope with insecurity. Leaving the rest of us as unwilling participants.”

“HOW DO YOU KNOW WHAT’S WRONG IN NATURE?” Shelly bawled.

The beach of Temofose was out of walking distance from the orange cottage they grew up in with there Mom. When they were young it was somewhere theyd go when they had nothing else to do. Euweu Sister Beach was the brighter of the two, but now too populated for their liking. Temofose is less frequented by other families and polluted by cargo ships and a lack of open views but as they stood there a semblence of twilight through the holographic cages offered closure to the purpose of them arguing in the elements about a timeline Shelly was going to step into And no matter what argument he could put forth, Gerald thought of it fruitless unless he spoke from his heart, a heart of which Shelly was currently taking the place of, so that he could not use it against her. “Shelly, I just hope you can understand how I dont want to let you go.” “I’m sorry you feel that way. But it’s my choice. Have a good njght Gerald. I love you” She said as she went into darkness.

Summer Break 2018

As a street light exploring strip malls, I am a linoleum tile on top of a trapezoid emitting frames of rave scenes. Heres where I find myself walking through last nights dream of the gang member selling duck pussy then getting assaulted by a pizza guy and a cop. Alone after those nights. Seems love was never meant to be expressed but felt. I look inside to see if I’m about to die, seeing diamonds mixed with sky. Materializing in the backdrop of my memories. Now I know why.

Now I know.

Then a wren on the fence manifests when it needs to. The perspective pyramid is that I pleaded for a higher calling. There’s nobody bohemian as me. One day I’ll take this civic off the road and escape into my sacred grove. If only I wasnt such a bitch.

I carry my single briefcase through the airport parking lot. I’m hot and out of breath. Everyone watching me. I can read their thoughts but not my own. They say look at the guy who isnt me but is still conscious enough to move his vessel.

The a/c runs down to the end of the terminal, but my spirit is squared by the stores selling vain material. The pyramid of perspective is an accordian overlayed on my mind’s eye televises scenes too chaotic to put into words. Walking through customs is an event to be remembered, I tell myself. Anyone who catches my glimpse pauses for a split second, calibrating my own opinion of the why in life. A definition of nuance that was never meant to be expressed but felt. To sense what I’ve been wanting, free and alone, after all those wasted days. I board the flight to say finally I am my own religion. If I was flying over africa I’d see bon fires, but over Georgia I only see street lights. Thinking how absurd that they will speak of me as crazy. Others will listen. A vibration through these amber aisles to look no further than my destiny. Because everyone has their destination is the way it goes. I refuse. I’m tired of being a number. Atlanta had its place. Now I’m homeless in Tokyo. This is the not-so perfect end to the chapter planned out for me by the higher power. Not-so bad neither.

Save me. I’m on the other side now.

#chapter 1 #short-story #novella #atl streetz #cancer moon #tryna

1 note · View note