May 09, 2008 18:58
why is it that I, my recognized self, feel nothing when I say outloud or internally that the lives that my loved ones and I lead is a waste of arbitrary separatist labels and nothingness..is it because I have no solution, no potential solution, no idea what solution means, no concepts to relate to, if there is anything that we've evolved from since getting thumbs it's our ability to conceptualize our imagination into something fathomable or comparative, so why then is there this perpetual void or misdirection when it really boils down to what to do next? what to do now? what...everything is redundant, it was never that the institutions were evil it was the notion of "what next" when they become redundant or have nothing else to provide evolving minds and consciousness. In the last 100 years the institution has made nothing from nothing, made nothing form everything that was acceptable to our ancestor's worldview which is a pebble compared to our generations potential for expanding concepts or imagination or foundations of comparative thought. What to make of our opportunities, or redundant institutions. Andre Breton would maybe have said that only unclogging the tunnel to our unconscious or our conceptual imaginations can we derive automatic action. Freud would have said Breton's concepts were unfounded based on what we make of our world via our ego and that only transference of the psychoanalytical will provide any mode to our unconscious...what of the conscious then, the unfeeling of feeling, what is "un" what is the chicken or the egg. They are conceptualized imagination to each perception, so from that, only our seemingly invigorating personal imaginations can make beautiful chaos from our stagnant, vomitous institutions of body and mind and cage that surround them in our cities and in our fruitless search for the pastoral through mindless entertainment. At what point does defiance become acceptance?
so little time, yet I have it all, right now, at this christian coffee whorehouse.
Paying taxes waiting for a move to make based on a letter, in mailbox from a file from a hand from a mouth from a machine from a hole in the great gurgling ground. Paying taxes to get something back, some fake stamp of nothing. While every religious institution in the world exploits beautiful people for their fear and minds and labor and turn their back, offer their hand with fingers crossed. Billions of dollars to the nazi youth in a while mobile, never paying taxes, never paying anything but imagination. Not any song is gonna fix anything, nothing was ever broken, it was just passive, like a lingering door or a hinge without screws. put your foot in, take it out, squeeze you dick and feel the blood run through your fingers back into your gut, then push it back out and become a thermometer. Stick that, marry her, someone else squeezes your dick, testing you temperature, your nature, your imagination. Masturbate wanting sex. Volcanoes. Plan plan plan.
I spent about 3 hours in the woods today playing guitar for people without government documented housing, who made the most beautiful homes. They just wanted to sit for the sun and watch the strings on my guitar vibrate. Looking from them to wings, cutting the spears of light like cyclone.
I sat in a earthquake knowing full well it wasn't a fucking earthquake at all.
shit is pouring out of the sewers and food is poor. as seen in the pages of the brave books I've read. God is dead
god is dead. Now just a weighted pillow for your head and a flat black rockbed. A cloud is an atom cult keep afloat by sheer faith of particle, so when then do I get to conceptualize the cloud really imagine that magnetism of man and faith.