#im gonna ascend myself and we dont need any other gods :) (gonna fail too)

[lunian]

gosh its just the max level of pathetic looking man who begs you to support his unhinged wizard ideas and fails (affectionately)

[nocancer]

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.