the old same place.
    trying to put two things together.
    the phone rang.
    another hit.
    another something.
    common ground.
    equal terms.
    always another thing intrudes.
    fitting rectangles into a curve.
    it don't make it.
    one side.
    either or.
    always something.
    always something left over.
    something to bargain with or fight over.
    which is which?
    the war.
    the peace of unspoken compromise.
    whatever and whatnot.
    what comes and goes.
    in/out.
    something like that.
    it all comes back to the old same place.
    dada.
    one or the other.
    war and peace.
    got it down now.
    he thinks.
    he thought.
    he is.
    he was.
    he will be.
    succumb to it.
    it.
    whatever and whatnot it is and was and will be and isn't and wasn't and won't be stamps its feet and either refuses to budge or refuses to stop running about screaming all over the place.
    something.
    electric.
    shock.
    the treatment.
    i remember doo doo.
    i remember doo doo.
    we had a swimming pool.
    we had something.
    wasn't it neat?
    we had this song to sing and forgot the words or something.
    brilliant.
    something brilliant occurring.
    not what was planned or expected.
    something.
    another hit.
    sit back.
    light another cigarette.
    this is not the place or the time to panic and start a war about something we can't even fucking remember.
    remember fucking.
    in and out of a dream thing somewhere sometime.
    and it ain't about this and it ain't about that.
    it's about nothing.
    it's about a piece of cake.
    one big fucking piece of cake it takes a lifetime to eat.
    eat it until you puke and go dive your ugly face into it again and eat some more.
    until.
    and that's not it - it's not it at all.
    one point of view.
    look at it again.
    it and not it at once.
    one eye open.
    one eye closed.
    a sense of balance between the two.
    an approximation.
    an abstract state of being real.
    a concept of what it is or is not.
    defined.
    something.
    something else.
    and we continue...

    so this guy.
    driving a car - right?
    a dog in the back seat - right?
    check.
    and we are informed by the dog's assumed owner that the dog is also of the female type x chromosome gender thing.
    x.
    the unknown.
    the christ.
    let us not be absurd and get carried away here now.
    this either makes sense or it doesn't.
    the line is straight or it is curved.
    sorry.
    choose sides.
    weapons drawn.
    back to back.
    pace it out.
    pace it off.
    piss it out.
    piss it off.
    piss.
    and back into it again.
    back into this thing we're dealing with in its absence or presence.
    ab -
    pre -
    it makes sense either both way.
    or it doesn't.
    and he can and he will argue this point with anyone forever - whatever point that might be.
    that's the kinda guy he is.
    deal with it.
    sooner or later.
    he's waiting for you outside.
    outside your circle.
    and one can pull at their chain and bark at him all they want and he'll laugh in their face and inch away.
    as close as it gets.
    until.
    or he can throw them a bone.
    nice little doggie.
    let him in.
    the circle remains unbroken.
    so what was it? - for their protection or his?
    police.
    guns.
    sticks.
    nuclear warheads.
    locks on the doors.
    shutters on the windows.
    don't look in.
    don't look out.
    it's too ugly either way one looks at it.
    too fucking ugly.
    so come on.

    and the game has begun.
    and it comes and it goes in and out of it. and from here it begins again by thinking of it beginning.
    go!
    goal.
    but to first to begin by not quite thinking about it that way - as a goal. finding it is the same as not finding it. setting it out as the goal is the same as not setting it out as the goal. and there are ancient manuscripts to this effect. these can be found if one wishes to find them. they will not help you. and it may or may not be where and when one expects it to be. this can be as difficult or not as one makes it. perhaps this matter ought to be not investigated by some certain people as it is not to their liking or ability or inclination - or it's none of their fucking business. but this is the game and as such is nothing much serious as it will be or not.
    and so the rules perhaps. perhaps as to what rules there may or may not be as we make them up as needed as it suits our purpose and then some. a clue. as to the clues. as to whether there are clues as to whether there are rules. there are clues to the rules and rules to the clues.
    hours. days. weeks. months. years. decades. centuries. millennia. back into a matter of a moment that moves through and is part of them all and is what sort of connects them to one another each other enfolding spheres moving through within time in 3d like a theory of maybe kinda. and that either gives you a clue about it or not. or maybe emplaces a rule. or breaks the rules without a clue.
    dead texans in vortexes.
    there's another one for you - either a clue or a rule.
    get it?
    yes/no/maybe.
    nevermind that for the moment and moments yet to come as they have gone and remain without a clue.
    give up?
    it's kinda a matter out of context.
    it's a nutshell kinda thing.
    cracked open and eaten.
    so to speak.
    thus spoken.
    thus spake.
    speechless.
    as it is broken into without a clue and unknowing what if any rules apply or who or what applied them.
    that's the case.
    a case in point.
    a condition.
    the thought that counts.
    mommy.
    daddy.
    sister.
    brother.
    what happens there?
    do we want to know?

    immediately sometime later.
    the game has begun.
    a statement.
    questions.
    what is or can be assumed to be known?
    how much guesswork?
    how many developed theories?
    nothing changes except the game has begun.
    a soul - whatever that might be.
    parameters.
    details.
    evolving.
    points of view.
    perspective.
    if it's about one thing it's also about the other.
    includes.
    excludes.
    principles.
    conditions.
    a thousand years to come.

    to begin.
    to begin with a chicken and egg theory.
    and the reason there is something instead of nothing is that nothing is unstable - or so he read in a book somewhere.
    that is where and when it begins.
    that is where and when the breakdown occurs.
    at the beginning.
    occurrence.
    an occurrence of the breakdown of occurrence.
    this is how it occurs.
    this is how it begins.
    and we're all over the place with this.
    we don't care.
    let the game begin.
    play the game or die.

    this is merely a game of words, said ralph.
    yes, said louie, that is what it is. that is part of what must be done - though to say merely is to reduce the significance of it.
    it has significance?
    yes. it has it's place in relationship to the whole as does everything else. this is its significance. and it is of mere significance. i am not trying to give it greater significance than it has.
    and, as to be expected, this conversation went nowhere but into the meaningless void where all conversations go eventually until the subject was changed to a more reasonable topic about things like sports and weather and the latest drive-by shooting they both recognized until they parted until they met again and once again fell into conversation as being part of the game.
    the game is the machine.
    the machine is the game.
    maybe.
    and so many words with each word requiring rather large amounts of explanation to reach a common understanding of what it may or may not mean especially as it is used in conjunction and contrast with the meanings of other words used in the explanation as well as its own meaning.
    sometimes it is best to say nothing but to nod one's head to another in as neutral a manner as possible to communicate to the other that one is listening yet being careful not to indicate either agreement or disagreement though often it is assumed by those who are speaking that those who are listening in silence are in agreement or at least understand what they are saying which may or may not be the case.
    it gets very complicated at this point, yet without total withdrawal from any and all social contact it is nearly impossible to be in a situation where even by one's own presence one can avoid miscommunication which can even happen by one's absence.
    yikes!
    a facial expression. lighting a cigarette. wearing a green sweater. at what point does the breakdown of communication begin and occur? and so what? should it be something to be avoided? perhaps not if one is aware that it does happen and has no expectations otherwise but is in a position to allow it to occur without being drawn into it with some idea of correcting it. but by then what is the point in one even being there if one is to be entirely passive to it? yet how passive is one in  such a situation? there is an active sense of passivity - yes? even non-actions are actions.
    do it or don't do it.
    the game has begun.
    what occurs is what occurs by our involvement or non-involvement.
    that's it.
    a green sweater can nullify anything ever spoken as can lighting a cigarette.
    it may be.
    say nothing.
    say everything.
    any and all words seek to establish a balanced state of neutrality which cannot possibly be reached so long as they continually need to be spoken of the reason opposite polarity as they need and expression by whoever even screaming within one's reach red-faced and along like that listening to communicate though opening we grow tired movie screen both occurs with images in silence our mouths as if in a dream attempting on as if to not exist.
    the game has begun.
    forget the game.
    you are the player.
    we are merely here to observe and to observe what occurs without judgment except when judgment seems to be what is asked for to determine whether or not that is what is occurring and a line is drawn this and that and only you can tell us as we cannot tell you and this is what occurs.

    another case.
    complicated.
    this is not the point.
    yet simplicity is not the point either.
    a game is played within or without itself.
    that is not the game.
    the game has begun.
    don't worry about it.
    to be here and now.

    a cold rain.
    some erotic death.
    some unheard scream.
    nothing positive or negative.
    the game.
    an eye to it.
    what we want to hear.
    to abandon.
    to cast off the words we hear still coming from our mouths that are only words.
    what is this sound we are listening for?
    the all clear.
    to observe the destruction of it.
    to focus.
    to decay into it without judgment.
    an animal hungry with bared teeth wild in innocence.
    dadaist.
    give a dadaist a parachute and he/she becomes a false prophet.
    maybe that is what occurs.
    a cardboard hat.
    a cardboard machine.
    radio babylon speaking a certain occurrence of space and time forgotten.
    event.
    a lipstick trace.
    nothing.
    but to speak.
    but to speak in words to you.
    to observe as you read a book building a world around yourself with words.
    we observe you.
    tambourine.
    shake it.
    local.
    someone talking to you as though the tv were on.
    perhaps this is where we find you.
    and to not think of this.
    to find you elsewhere.
    so many elsewheres.
    to not follow anyone but ourselves and to arrive at this we speak.
    not a conclusion and not as it has begun.
    a dance of something native.
    to occur through reason of pushing it to a point where and when it no longer occurs.
    to await that happening.
    to laugh in the face of it as it happens.
    opened mouthed.
    to fill the time with words.
    to see the end beginning.
    to focus on that point and allow it the power to shape one's mind into what fits.
    eliminating everything else.
    the contradiction between what has to begin and what is to end.
    to be caught in that in mortal awareness untranscended except from void to oblivion.
    a steady state of nothing remaining stable.
    control.
    control out of control.
    to design it into a definition that eliminates everything else.
    is this what our words mean?
    is this what we mean by them?
    listen.
    listen to ourselves speaking.

    he is within and without the occurrence. the words that eliminate everything he means to speak. to be caught by their definitions. analyzed. dissected. what is kept and what is discarded? and this is what you must do without knowing what his words mean. this is what he must do too. words exchanged. cut apart and sewn back together. pieces missing. pieces of one added to pieces of another. butchers of the language.
    the sound of it. to listen to the sounds. to put the sounds together into a song we are singing beyond what we are speaking. can you hear that? listen. what is the meaning to words that have lost their meaning? where and when does this occur? read a book about it. try to divide it out. to give up the game as the game has begun. to find a reasonably comfortable position. to read a book as the last line of defense. to write a book with the idea that the best defense is a good offense.
    it occurs.
    but as he goes this far and no farther, it is up to you. the game has begun and he's given it up. he does not surrender nor claim victory. he does not recognize a stalemate. he leaves it as it is with you to find it as you will find it.
    this trojan horse that is greek to him. laughter in the moonlight. he awaits some reply. he expects none. this is not where and when the game is played.

    to explain.
    the game is not a game. it is not a game to him though it may be a game to you.
    the game.
    a game.
    the -
    a -
    listen.
    the words are of some significance to what it is or not.
    the words are all we have together.
    we live by our words though our words have no meaning,
    sounds in the air.
    marks on a page.
    the clue.
    a clue.
    he continues to try both to divide it and bring it together - to keep it together.
    it is too far without being far enough.
    too close without being close enough.
    too much without being enough.
    he remains waiting for as long as it takes.
    this takes time.
    the game has begun.
    he becomes aware of it each time it occurs eventually through the course of events that bring him back to this awareness taking time.
    he comes back into this after forgetting what it is.
    a statement of memory.
    a context.
    an occurrence in and out of the context of the game.
    that is what he asks you to observe.
    this silly thing.
    this silly thing of a game - of the game.
    he comes down into it now maybe to realize it lies within a context of illusion imagined spun and woven from imagination.
    to deny the validity of what is imagined - to say it is unseen.
    ok.
    that is where and when he will leave it with you.
    he goes no farther than that.
    how much farther is there to go?
    it is nothing.
    it is only a game.
    just so many words.
    not the words that make sense other than as romantic vision of imagined reality unreached and unreachable.
    ok.
    he will leave you here.
    this is the world.
    he will not interfere more than to say the game has begun.

    call them out as fools and to others from your world will not miss them into place around of no use to you will take with him you see them perhaps until when it is too late they are trapped by their well ordered stagnation when it runs smooth have been replaced at your job squeaky wheels made of some smile photograph of the moment.
    picture perfect throughout the duration of their dreams come true.

    another part.
    and what of this is familiar? and what of this is strange? thoughts flowing somewhere. and what is our reaction? which are we drawn to? which do we avoid? drawn to the familiar to avoid the strange. drawn to the strange to avoid the familiar. yet perhaps the familiar is what is strange and the strange is that which is familiar. what rules apply here? what negates what? he doesn't want to hear about it. he's tired of excuses. figure it out. explain it to yourself - or not. make a list and define what you want and then explain it. or are you a victim of it? or is that anything about what it might be at all? and some amount of money to represent what you want. to feel safe and comfortable. nothing wrong with that, is there? that's what he wants. that's what he's got as much as he can get it.
    and to fill in the time. a lifetime. boredom. to do everything you do. to do what he does. sit here and write. sit there and read. occupation of time. space. that's all. the words. the game of words. and to think of something else. to have time to think of something else. occupy the time thinking of something else. to fantasize. to be taken elsewhere than here by thoughts thinking of something else. out of the way. off.
    and he comes down out of it and goes into it. what occurs around him slips into a kind of neutrality zone of what occurs around him. he notices it as it occurs to others. he finds little importance to much of it now. he does not see his relationship to it except as it relates to those around him as they relate to one another as they do. it occurs. as long as it doesn't come too close. out of the way. something else.

    today.
    yes. today. an afternoon gazing out the window. he turns back as someone sits at his table and talks to him. he doesn't know what to say except as it is part of the game. he says something noncommittal - as neutral as he can until he can determine what it is they want or need him to say. then he decides whether he can say it or not. usually he can't - or won't.
    the play of the game. he knows the lines of each part by heart. but that is not really what they want. or maybe they do. the play is part of the game as the game is part of the play. he looks out the window. maybe this is illusion - a delusion he makes up himself of the game that is played without knowing. he can make it all go away.

    bimbo the brave little clown.
    there is nothing about this in the question of some form of the equation that exists among us. an equation of variables where and when relative values and rules as such apply. an equidistant relationship of polarities.
    and into this was bimbo who was instantly confused by everything. he could barely carry on a conversation as he relied on words other people spoke rather than what they meant by their words that even they did not most of the times seem to know. and the words he spoke with the meanings he assumed they had - he had looked many up in the dictionary to check. they did not seem to have the same meanings to those who heard them. he found himself insulting people and getting into arguments with people he had only intended to have a conversation with. he many times even did not realize that the conversation he was having was taken to be an argument by the other people involved. he was just saying what he felt and what was on his mind. wasn't that the point of having a conversation? not apparently to those who he had conversations with.
    bimbo many had stopped talking soon after stopped talking awhile argumentative nature they spoke to him with him first they couldn't deal when the words they used unfortunate to bimbo this seemed was clear many told him yet they called  these conversations so bimbo talked with no one emotion he liked the way nor could he maintain it him felt different he liked emotion when it would he usually come over him he loved it were many forms channel the emotion sadness too sure made it worth what passion joy the driving force he felt he wasn't exactly too sure maintained a very tight this not understanding the expressive form he called it and sorrow during which he didn't understand this worth feeling feel this passion depression he liked it when he felt this passion dark periods became very real everything same time was in touch impossible to explain how much sense a very hard thing and enjoy as a reality utterly pointless but how real was no reason to continue it his passion became pain around him this insight gain the sense it to end he saw it in himself to tell them in others he saw it felt it too be reminded did not want more arguments no longer speak with him isolated they did not want to hear abandoned he was given in a world who was to take on would help be better it wasn't but he was world looking into each if they did were no words silenced scream the entire universe held its breath the passion the clenched teeth and white knuckles no one dared holding on for anything the reality of it struggled and crawled just end it of many more all of this one for nothing each day those who finally and kept going he felt sad for them to feel for them no much pointless they were gone end it now he felt afraid flipped all of it off in this hell he remain here figured it out as dark as it got all the lights went out a black candle whatsoever for no reason but he couldn't something else dancing in the a flame that seemed to played with the no shadows dance between the two this was when one flame from was all dark there were the unspeakable passion of it himself became scream he held back find the words he could not find the ones that came close and seemed pathetic ripped up returned he lit another cigarette laughed at and thrown away the scream and gather his this could be it he looked out able to see was it his hand shook little more to it left down words of coffee sometimes weight he liked it here he lived collapse at any moment where and when he was alive here at best this place was not too far one way it familiar this place he knew but knew would perhaps wonder he held himself harmless familiar wake up the dead a balancing act would perhaps enough another refill he found himself here not be able to verify smiling will bother approximate location familiar and strange alive at this moment don't think about that to figure it out he may or may not both at once the street cool.
    who's the monkey here?
    in the middle of it all and somewhere he stands trial in some people's minds of devil worshipping. imagine that and nobody here but us chickens running around a bit off kinda like that sort of as it could be seen from a certain on again off again perspective point of view looking out a window now darkened by night and casting a ghost reflection of someone appearing as himself and welcome to the machine and all that business.
    he's been waiting here for you to meet you when and if you were ever ready. alone on an island alone. you gaze out the window with a blessing of being amused despite and perhaps instead of understanding though that too is understanding. what do you think? what do you know?
    no reply.
    just some stupid dazed-assed grin and wild eyes devil worshipping son of a bitch who quite unknowingly taught him well enough how to turn himself inside out and back again around through some mysterious irrationalogic between them of each teeth clenched on each other's tail.
    ouch!
    all in good fun after all. no point in taking any of this seriously, right? write. write it off. a joke. something just blowing in the wind somewhere some time. dust and ashes and all that rot. in the ground with the maggots and other friends of his. dig him into a hole and let him be slowly taken back home piece by piece food for all them hungry microbes. they gotta get theirs too, you know? he's seen his judgment day and resurrection. just as he is. somebody grab his hands and somebody grab his feet. one - two - three - heave ho! let him go. thud. cover it up and go home. what is done is done.
    another cigarette and forget.

    and past that.
    a hat.
    out of a hat.
    a smile or two and he's got you.
    turn away but you still see him.
    the image of who knows what in your mind between light and shadow.
    the doors open and close in an instant.
    alignment of space and time.
    just right.
    in and out while you were sleeping.
    zap!
    maybe a dream.
    a nightmare.
    he sees it.
    he sees it all.
    he sees it in a glance.
    you've seen him somewhere before but you've been told it's not polite to stare.
    turn away quick.
    he'll burn your eyes out of your head if you don't.
    the face.
    not the name.
    long ago.
    cross paths again.
    once in a lifetime perhaps.
    instant dislike.
    something forgotten and not wanting to remember.

    a design.
    and here's a trick.
    we sat in the dark and made up stories.
    not even a candle or a flashlight or a cigarette lighter or a match.
    imagine that.
    and things went on as ever - happily ever after once upon a time as this.
    we got lost in the stories we made up told ourselves.
    and in the dark there was no one to tell us they were not true - or if they were.
    we lost ourselves in the dark like children.
    relative space and time of darkness.
    anything everywhere.
    the distance between ourselves left to the imagination.
    ritual of salvation.
    space - what space?
    time - what time?
    that's the trick here.
    that's how it's done.
    sort of.
    kinda.
    maybe.
    perhaps.
    nothing to it at all, you know?
    sure you do.
    you've done this trick yourself, haven't you?

    please wait to be seated.
    otherwise.
    but it's not that simple.
    it's never that simple, though it is - almost.
    time.
    maybe it's a matter of time.
    left behind to observe time.
    a real relationship.
    that's all it is.
    as simple as a relationship.
    as simple as this and that.
    otherwise.
    ideas of slogans.
    or not ideas - just slogans.
    something to chant in the street.
    something to write on a wall.
    a cardboard sign.
    that sort of thing.
    an idea?
    discussed by who?
    decided by who?
    something to shout at one another standing apart on either side of line.
    as simple as a relationship.
    we've divided ourselves apart for this purpose for something to fight about.
    as simple as this and that.
    a line not to be crossed by either party or severe consequences will result.
    consequence.
    the consequence of being one or the other.
    enemy.
    friend.
    and to wander out of the camps and go some place else away from the war zone toward a common ground.
    toward ourselves.
    toward each other.
    toward no one.
    toward everyone.
    and he dreams.
    and you dream.
    and we dream.
    alone.
    alone together.
    alone together alone.
    and all that rot.

    homeland.
    a theme.
    reoccurring dream.
    nightmare.
    inhabited.
    ghosts of ourselves against monsters of each other.
    and this again.
    and this once more.
    repeat.
    down to a word.
    words.
    description.
    and some one said, slogans are written by people who should get a better grip on the language before they put other people in boxes with labels on them that sound like they mean something but in reality do not and are subject to a wide variety of interceptions which only further hampers and breaks down communication between opposing sides who seem more bent on yelling in each other's faces than doing anything actually constructive toward resolving conflict that slogans are a major part of creating and maintaining.
    freedom is slavery.
    war is peace.
    hail victory.
    four legs good, two legs better.
    love it or leave it.
    screw them before they screw you.
    jesus saves.
    rot in hell.
    don't you know the joker laughs at you.

    all jack a dull dog.
    arf!
    realism plus in a circle of it around and around without an inside or outside of it with people in straight line curving getting somewhere set in their ways but that is perhaps one more nevermind or another.
    though people seem to want to be invisible decorating themselves the same huddled together in protective aura of conformity.
    who and what do they all fear?
    this overpowering thing shapeless formless nada dada whatever and whatnot inside and outside themselves
    us.
    this is not.
    form the words of the language.
    form the language of the words.
    on and off.
    from one form to the other..

    ok.
    a straight line curving.
    a beginning.
    a middle.
    an end.
    this.
    that.
    hold to the structure of it.
    letting go of the illusion that reality is other than it is as it appears.
    no more speculation.
    stop.
    no more groping about in the dark spacetime of unknown possibilities.
    stop.
    no more.
    close the door.
    this is where and when and what and how and why and who we have come to and brought with us.
    this other nonsense must end.
    there must come a time to be done with it.
    there are important decisions to be made.
    there is needed action to be taken.
    we can no longer tolerate this useless activity - this non-activity.
    a waste of time.
    we are bringing about and into play a future of our own design.
    one that we control, not one that controls us.
    there is no one above us but ourselves and who and what we are the incarnated images of this world.
    those who do not fit into that image that we have found to be the true image can not be allowed free reign over themselves and others as it obstructs and interferes with our rights and our progressive evolution that has throughout history of this species up until now has been severely hampered and limited by those bent on eliminating our kind from themselves even at the risk of their own destruction whether intentionally or not is of little difference.
    whether we are but one.
    whether we are but few.
    whether we are many.
    whether we are a minority.
    whether we are a majority.
    whether we are all.
    however we find ourselves to be - this is it.
    we are here now.
    organized.
    disorganized.
    rational.
    irrational.
    strong.
    weak.
    on the top.
    on the bottom.
    whether it is us.
    whether it is them.
    our fate is our own.
    we can no more follow the imposed standards of the others whoever they may be.
    there is no right.
    there is no wrong.
    there is no right.
    there is no left.
    there is no up or down.
    there are no opposites except as defined by the others who put us in opposition with them no matter how tangible and real they try to prove these opposites are.
    that is the trap they lead us into that we can no longer afford to be fooled by.
    it comes from anywhere at anytime.
    those who point us out as their enemy.
    those who befriend us and want us to be on their side against their enemy.
    we are no one's enemy.
    we are everyone's enemy.
    if this is not understood, then we cannot explain it.
    if one feels to be someone's enemy and/or feels someone is one's enemy no matter how justified that may seem to be with how much evidence one may have to support it from a gut feeling to years of archival research then one is not one of us and this exists not by our definition by by one's own.
    we seem not to be able to convince the others that we are not a threat to them unless they become a threat to us.
    watch out.
    and we know who and what they are or who and what they think they are better than they know themselves.
    it becomes obvious.
    they think they have disguised themselves as everybody's friend but we have x-ray minds and we see them coming and going.
    we are the ones who are the ones who will survive and overcome all that is set against us until any and all opposition to who or what we may or may not be is no more.
    and we are all this and that.
    we are whoever whatever.
    sometimes we don't even know.
    we leave it to the others to figure out since they are the ones who define everything and draw up the sides of conflict.
    there is only us.
    there is no them.
    it is the others who confuse us into thinking we are divided so that they can have power and control.
    beware.
    it is very easy to fall into that.
    it's the easiest thing in the world.
    it is our nature as beasts of the earth.
    one need not even think about it.
    and once one has fallen into it - and we fall into it from birth - it is the hardest thing to get out of.
    one has to think twice.
    to become one of us again - we who are them to the others.
    to remember oneself as one of us again.
    to remember the others as being us again.
    it may take lifetimes.
    but it only takes a moment.
    we have all been there in the us and them world.
    it sucks big time.
    it is painful.
    one should avoid it if one can - if it's not already too late and one does not realize it has happened.
    that's the hardest part - to realize it's happened.
    because one will not think of oneself as one of them but as one of us - the us who befriend you.
    that is how they trick you and keep you deceived and trapped in their cage you otherwise would and could escape from.
    you will think that you and others like you are us and others not like you are them.
    it is a small matter and consequence as to how that is defined on what basis real or imagined from race and gender down to what color socks you wear.
    it will all seem real and true.
    dada and spaceships.
    whatever and whatnot.
    we do not care about any of that or the excuses for it.
    the others can go and fight all that out among themselves and each other.
    we will not participate in their annihilation that seems to be their fate.
    radio.
    we are the source as well as the medium as well as the receiver to the transmission from and to ourselves to one another.
    tune in or not.
    radio active.
    the death of their world will be the birth of ours.
    figure it out from there.
    you can have it all.
    look for us.
    you will find us among you always and everywhere and sometimes even when you think you are alone.
    they do not recognize our form of existence any more than something immaterial - a trivial thing.
    they may have thought they have discovered one of us and caught us.
    a trial.
    judgment.
    a conviction.
    but it is only their fantasy they have discovered.
    they have tried to cast us out.
    we are not even here to begin with because we are everywhere here and now.
    but not as they see us.
    not as they know us.
    they can only cast one of themselves out as a sacrifice to overcome their eternal fear of us.
    they have done this over and over.
    they have enslaved no one but themselves as well as imprisoned and tortured and fought wars against and put to death and all variations thereof to themselves while we get away because no one knows who or what we are.
    while we sit back and watch them perform for us.
    the game.
    always the game.
    while we laugh at the comedy of errors of their idiot blundering with things they have no hope of comprehending.
    oh well.
    perhaps we have gone too far.
    perhaps we have become unfeeling and cruel.
    but isn't everyone getting what they want?

    perhaps another part.
    to not be mistaken this may not be what it seems.
    or not again.
    a stream of consciousness without direction or purpose unto itself other than as water to flow in an ever-changing changeless state.
    yet its ability to do so and how it does so is determined by the rigidity of what surrounds it and channels it one way or another.
    language.
    words like rocks this flowing must move around in order to remain as it is in its free state.
    the more words, the more obstacles - until language becomes a dam holding back expression creating a stagnant lake until the dam is broken and language is once again removed as an obstruction to thought.
    or not.
    alas those who built their homes beneath this dam who rely on it to protect them.
    oh well.
    as their shattered definitions are washed over them and are swept away downstream.
    or maybe sometimes not like that at all.

    not part three.
    let us forget this do we really continuance of our stupidity for us who and what any better than this need these others tell ourselves in relation to them we surrender recognizing what is the possible worst the power to convince us they try what we are what in life or in death domain been through they do their control a thousand times a life in a day big fucking deal convince one suffer the consequences that description let them if that is what complaining about freedom always will be decide has been give up that freedom in exchange being made for one person or group if one decides security or fate one decides either way the deal is one's knowledge a box so tight blow one away give it want security to the passing words back ever again which a difference ever harm never have to come back aren't even saying have we said all of it what and could there is something perhaps that's ok it's part of it not here we if we did we want to this applies does one even know we do don't worry nevermind that won't tell information conjuring up just collect we know who future a little of this purposes of the perfect a shit eating grin what hit part of it by another and this is only that the way to it one cannot decide spin and whirl words they follow any order logical this is what one wants one's freedom once one is confines mechanism language prepares control in one's head then just imagine free from words volumes of detailed dust security will allow one find in one particular frame maybe it's to be found writings have thus far anywhere else from this philosophies so much unable to find one wants not reading one more word indeed one who decides whether they threaten refuse comfort one the latter oneself matters one way or the other former the blame comfort one defines us in the dark where we exist do not care or the other one's world smaller the more one defines what it is and what it is not.

    the game.
    now there is the game.
    the game has begun.
    this is not a game though it may involve a game or many games. it is the game. there is no other - at least no other that we are concerned with right now. we are all in the game whether we realize it or not - whether we want ot be or not. whether or not we are the players or who is played by the players. the distinction is not all that important as the game continues and progresses equally through action and non-action. and we all take turns. the ones who think they are the players are often those who are being played. the game is as simple or as complex as one makes it. there are no sides or as many sides as we decide. the game can be taken seriously or not. the game can result in whatever consequences that result.
    the game is nothing.
    the game is anything.
    the game is everything.
    we have chosen the game. we have chosen the game for you and ourselves. this seemed the best way to do what we felt needed to be done - to evolve. we take this to be our responsibility. no one made this choice but we ourselves. if we were wrong then we were wrong. at the time we made this choice and the time we were allotted to make it and the information we had available to make the choice, we chose the game. the game had the highest degree of risk yet also had the most ot be gained by the most amount of people - everyone. the game can be decided one way or the other by almost anyone doing anything. by this perhaps someone lighting a cigarette could have more effect on the outcome than someone else launching a nuclear warhead missile.
    perhaps.
    perhaps not.
    many wars have been won or lost or have been prevented or begun for want of a nail.
    dig?
    dig it or not. who's who in the zoo? where and when does it come from and go to? - from you to him or from him to you or us to them or them to us? around in a wink of an eye. and so why bother with this? it is not really happening. idle time. idle mind.
    zap!
    it's over before you know it. quick like a bunny. won't hurt a bit unless you want it to. unless you're attached to the pain of it detaching itself from you.
    arrgh!
    what is it?
    what could it ever be?
    the game.
    nothing more and everything less than the game.
    to be eaten by you and to eat you alive in some complex simple matrix configuration of twisted dada.
    to look into your eyes and have you see he has every reason and justification to kill you.
    and he won't.
    and you could be him and he could be you and what would it change?
    perhaps you would.
    that is what he thinks about whenever he sees you.
    any of you.
    all of you.
    perhaps you would.
    how does he know?
    the clothes you wear?
    a smile?
    a frown?
    a glance?
    a stare?
    a pair of shoes?
    a hat?
    a spoon?
    a face turned away?
    how does he know which of you would kill him given the chance - the reason - the justification?
    that's what the game is for.
    to find you out.
    to get you to revel perhaps in a moment's gesture which it is about you that makes you tick one way or the other.
    how you play the game.
    to know who you are.
    he will know.
    we will know.
    it is at best amusing, at worst insulting.
    this is one possibility among the many possibilities.
    here.
    the many possibilities here.
    nevermind the rest of it.
    nevermind what other possibilities there are - except if you want to.
    there is no right or wrong.
    there is no reward or punishment.
    there is just the game.
    no one wins.
    no one loses.
    there is just the process of elimination until it comes down to us and just us - we who are them.
    the others rage on in their war that cannot be won.
    a carnival of karmic carnage and such like.
    part of the game.
    as they search for one thing or another to believe against all they are faced with alone.
    all in their minds.
    nothing more than that.
    but forget it.
    there is no game.
    but there is the machine.
    it's basically the same thing.
    tomato.
    potato.
    nevermind.
    good luck.

    when time breaks.
    but not time.
    not time itself - except if only time is perceived to be.
    and here we speak in time.
    our words ticking in various rhythms.
    boots.
    queer little things.
    he is not hungry now.
    trying again to think in some manner that might synchronize something between us and them.
    what needs to change?
    nothing he is concerned about himself except his concern about you who he expects to freak at any moment.
    the situation out of control.
    they are out of control.
    control of themselves.
    and he has forgotten.
    and he has led you on.
    he has lied.
    he has tried his best to trick you.
    around around outside looking in inside looking out.
    it remains unbroken.
    there are a few things here.
    there are many things here.
    what there are words for and what there are not words for.
    evolution through the use of words until the meanings are transcended and the words transformed transfixed into the language we are trying to speak but cannot.
    until this occurs.
    this does occur.
    it has occurred.
    it has occurred to us that it is occurring.
    the language we speak has been transformed transfixed.
    it becomes gestures to our thoughts transmitted from one to another.
    this is how we recognize one another without uniform or insignia and in the absence of these and other confinements of thought as we are speaking - as we doubt we are speaking.
    speaking with us.
    speaking with them.
    drive out of town until you run out of gas and then start walking.
    the destination will come to you as we speak.

    what is there if in fact otherwise one way indeed we get there gotten there pretty much stuck yes no we already got must be decided where is there first of all anyway out of town keeping in mind as you drive it's relative another important point be done you're going to either borrow or steal to remember ok now on the spur of the moment but nevermind you can kinda thing driving out of town any place in mind except not exactly if you can subjective into another one these other destinations you back to where not always you will get there destination tells you intersection so when if you follow be a major concern came from as simple as we can make them people prefer don't worry about this one should but again you come upon go straight unless something tells you not always signs say this way and sundry if in doubt a definite reason one way or the other will get you or purpose be made known fairly clearly paying attention keep going the car breaks down might want to what is around you or need to bring what you feel we are only saying start walking those driving by a lift not advised to solicit find a place to sit myriad and multitude of reasons these rides get there not be obvious at the moment there of course or lie down to offer you can pretty much be appear to be friendly faces keep walking way you were then sometimes be seduced by frightened turn them down are insistent the choice is not yours to make otherwise maybe you in a different direction shouldn't have set out once again in danger not to compelled and you feel if the ride is taken journey advice about them direction in oneself picked up or not begin to be felt one other than being the driver one is walking can be decided are places a passenger so while into places vehicle not on the menu before while in a car no longer a lot more options usually has a tendency to be thinking in terms of than being the driver toward places freeways wanna try to get there way down the line the radio and if that's the way the stop and go along like that from what it's at probably be on be run down from where not discussing geography usually discussed mazes where you are now those the same forget your credit cards to remind you euclidean type thing inside and out possible to cut through can slip the road less traveled away from ourselves hoopla oink oink quite lost lead to paths still attached to them like that that guides us by these machines until one the fool's path a house realize that you're in your own backyard.

    idle.
    idle mind.
    idle minded.
    devil's playground where and when glorious schemes are born of getting there and it all comes down to nothing more than to have been sitting here but doing nothing but conjuring up visions of far away places to be. civilizations have risen and fallen around one and one has done nothing for zillions of thousands of years and lifetimes of years doing nothing but trying to get there from here.
    let's go again. we'll play along. we're just the passenger to this free ride. the others are doing the driving. we have no place to be except to go back home again - and we just came from there. and we go as long as they can convince themselves that we have someplace to go and we're going to get there some time soon. but we're getting off at the next stop. we've been through this territory before. nevermind the bright city lights always up ahead or that isolated spot out in the wilderness. hope they got enough credit. punch it in. money comes out. so they must be going the right way. this proves it.
    we just climb up in this tree and watch it all go by above and below. monkey dada. dada monkey. monkey business anyway one looks at it and he's been looking at it a long time and that's all he sees. just a bunch of monkeys sitting up in trees thinking they're going somewhere. and some of them do get down and go. we've gone with them before. and they just find another tree to sit up in somewhere else. and after awhile one tree looks the same as another. the one we're in looks ok to us. good ol' tree. snooze through the heat of the day until the moon and stars and planets and satellites come out. might as well be the center of the universe for all we know. right here in this garden.
    and it's there for now and that's all the there it needs to be. to him it's anywhere. it could be paris. sitting in a cafe in paris drinking coffee and smoking cigarettes and writing in notebooks. or sitting in disneyland with elvis as much as it might as well be anywhere else. whoosh. wish any wish one wants up a tree and down you go and there you go and there you are. dumb old tree around and around until you get dizzy and all fall down as long as you know where you're going and doing something about getting there any way you want to.
    he looks down. he looks around. all these monkeys dancing themselves silly around his tree whether in paris or disneyland or anywhere else - in timbuktu. him and his tree. no one gets up his tree unless he decides. he can turn into one pissed of motherfucker ape from hell if he has to - if he wants to. and maybe that's what they think dancing around making all that hoopla noise jingling the change in their pockets and waving guns in the air. yeehaw! we got the bugger now. got him up in this tree. scariest thing i ever did see in my whole life - goddamn. ain't going up there after him but if he dares to come down i'll blow his fool head off. that's right. now you listen to me - hear? i'll protect you. i'll just camp out here - me and my sidekicks. you just settle down now and keep us supplied with what we need and...
    and that's the scam. and he's part of it. he's the big bad monster and they're the heroes. only until nobody realizes he's just a stupid monkey just like them. what's all the excitement?
    meanwhile, back on the farm, out here where we found ourselves alone and unbothered. and we've made whatever information available to you as we have. locked up tight in the tower they put us in - ivory or not. and we were strung up and burnt for it. they put devils in our heads making us design and build machines to keep all they others in line. and now here we are free to think what we want as long as we don't tell anyone about it.
    but we did. we left clues behind as part of the game and into the design of the machine to those who could follow them and end up here with us all along the way back to and from where and when it begins and begins again. just hanging out up in the trees. ain't nothing more to it than that. just dreaming up things for them to believe in and fight about over to keep them from coming around bugging us with their stupid questions they should have their own answers for.
    generation after generation waiting for them to figure it out. and here you are. you're close to it. you've found all the clues we left and all you have to do is to put them together and figure out what's what and what fits here and what fits there. and each have part of it figured out and think that's it as long as it works for them.
    get past it.
    if they'd stop shooting each other in the head for just a day they'd get it. they'd see it. if not, oh well, nice try. and we warp out of this world and try this again on another. or maybe not. we're just looking for conscious life someplace. conscious life that digs it and wants to continue digging it as all that it is and can be. to not just fade away. not to go out.
    sitting here listening to them waiting for someone to say something new. they'll bitch and go on about how old it all is but all they do is chop it up into pieces and put it together again in a different way and pronounce it the new thing. hooray. hoist up another flag and mix and match words out of the same old dead language to describe how wonderful the new thing is. and dada dada dada. dance around the new thing until they all get dizzy and fall down. oh boy. just hanging out here in the cafes of paris, madrid, hong kong, moscow, katmandu, athens, clevland and wherever else and it all looks and sounds the same to us. just waiting for someone to catch on to it. one spark in one mind that will set the world on fire blazing in the night. just sitting here waiting. it sure as hell ain't him. he hasn't had a new thought in years - for his lifetime.
    who?

    he lights another cigarette.
    to be embraced by nothing. to feel its nothing arms hug around you and it's ok. nothing can harm you now, but it doesn't. it can't. not unless you let it. not unless you turn it into something that can. it's you who decides what and which it is.
    a hole in the sky. a hole of nothing where there used to be something. a pie perhaps. maybe yes. maybe no. what next? what happens when it all falls down and turns into nothing again? when you're faced with nothing. when you're afraid of nothing because nothing can be anything. when you're embraced by nothing and you feel its arms hug around you and there you are alone with nothing around you.
    it's ok.
    or it's not.
    and it's just words. words to play around with. around and around. but the words aren't nothing. words are words. when they're gone nothing is left. and on and on from there.

    words put together this is nothing no more than idle mind than that not anything the language put together in learned sequence recognizable or close now deny it not meant to be and such he chooses to put within mean and what he tries the form of the other by them have available too far from that he has which would rather pointless but even that falls recognizable and the common any of it down afraid of which is which individual and unfamiliar sometimes fear make it the things we are afraid of books and books fear we remain afraid fear and power they go through life and sex damnation around and around salvation as merrily as they please dance with them us and around they dance oh boy what fun about you fun because and seen that is put in place he's having he knows in turn and one implies you have of one balance the other both of them power fear or some such let him know he's just up in his tree dust to settle know how it you figure it out he doesn't care he goes down keep making him awake quite frankly all of you nobody teach you waiting for they need to you again along with him making all this noise do they need to teach you something shit they say ends up being anyway pissing him off nothing you couldn't have figured out but it wasn't so many other you had was it taken the time your own self and here you are the face horrible as the ugliest you haven't meanest most terrible you put on your list in your spare time and here it is shots in the dark if all else calculated guesswork throw all the it's staring you haven't first clue study for the test at it and hope maybe a thousand go away satisfied neither are you maybe before not this time power and fear in the other you've got one hand doesn't know are wrapped up your throat to death going nowhere this is it the other hand is doing experiment failed terminate self-destruct strangling you a few there are no chosen people and only you all or nothing either figure it out do not pass go no longer needed the ride do not come back us and them decide that's it and where you're trying to get to we got ours this is where we get out.

    what?
    where are we?
    cruising along on some freeway one moment and standing on some hodunk exit ramp the next.
    centerville.
    everything turns around and ends up back in centerville. centerville anywhere. centerville in some ghetto. centerville in some commune. centerville anywhere. it's populated by anyone. centerville in the bingo halls. centerville in the gay bars. centerville at the recycling bins. centerville in the shopping malls. centerville at the anarchist convention. centerville on the music scene. centerville in the cafes. centerville in another cigarette. centerville in a notebook. centerville in his head.
    are we out of it yet?
    not him. him and his tree looking down on someone while someone looks down on him.
    power and fear.
    fear and power.
    which is up?
    which is down?
    how does one tell when everything is in centerville? when it hits critical mass. everyone trying to be there all at the same time and willing to do anything to anyone standing in their way or holding them back.
    gotta get there.
    look out, i'm on my way to centerville and don't fuck with me cuz i'll fuck with you worse. outta my way beep beep. hoopla oink oink. dada. turn on or we'll nuke you till you glow and drive you out of your wretched minds cuz we're telling you what you don't want to know.
    but you do know. you know you know. we know you know. we know you know because if we know, being the dumb fucks that we are, you gotta know. what do you know? we'd love to know it too. let it out. show it. shine. radiate. blind us with your light. burn us down with your fire. if you know then don't hide it. what are you hiding? what aren't you showing us? what are your secrets? and why? if it's something good and beautiful, let's see it. if it's something evil and ugly, let's see it. can't be any worse than what we're hiding from you.
    spread it around. release it. if it should die then we'll all help you kill it. if it should live then we'll all help you feed it. pass it on. whatever it is, pass it on.
    yeah.
    right.
    like that's gonna happen.
    but it's here and it could be now. he doesn't know. he's so twisted in and out of this gordian knot pretzel thing and whatever and whatnot. it comes and goes in its own spacetime. it takes space. it takes time. and we have all found it by now - right? found what it is to yourself and whoever else you maybe trust enough.
    so, ok. big deal. how long are you going to stay there? if you have it, you have it. if you don't, you don't. either give us a clue or let us give you a clue. pick it up. we ain't got all day to waste trying to explain it. got it down now. a grin. a nod. a wink. all in a glance what lies around us unspoken and unspeakable.
    hey, you're either dancing in the garden or you're not. we can see it in your eyes. we can see it in how you look or don't look at us walking among you - sitting among you. we could be frog people from neptune for all you know from whatever you read in a book, from a reliable source, from word of mouth, from the headlines and newsbreaks, from the in-depth thing itself digging into the heart of it dredging up the lost ancient scrolls from the primal muck itself and then some.
    it all may give you a clue or two but it won't give it to you. none of it. all of it. not until you get it. and you'll keep missing it until you do get it.
    burn it all.
    burn it all down.
    let it cool and search through the ashes for what was real enough to have survived and made it through. charred up a little maybe, one or two pieces cracked off - but there it is. in your hands. before your very eyes. the only thing in all of it worth keeping and you wouldn't have known if you hadn't burned it all down in your mind. and you were probably getting ready to throw it out as useless to make room for all the other dada junk you collect piled up and piling around you. but there it is. the only thing that survived the flames of hell and the light of heaven.
    get it now?
    and if you don't, do you possibly see maybe what you should be trying to find? not this. not that. we can't tell you what it is. we can't describe it or show it to you. you can only describe it and show it to yourself.
    dig?
    dada mantra groove thing stenciled up like another slogan prefab thought generic power soma chant for the people marching in the street bullhorn priest megaphone priestess cheerleaders.
    up with us.
    down with them.
    and this is it. we've had it. enough crammed down our throats. we're taking over as of now. you're either for us or against us. we've wasted enough time trying to explain our position. if you don't understand it by now it seems that you never will. so either join us or stop us or just get out of our way.

    and yet another story yet.
    another.
    another story - though there maybe was never another story to begin with. a story that begins as he begins it. true or not, it's just a story. what is true about it, what is not true about it isn't really the point, is it? if that is the point you want, if that's the point you need, he cannot give that to you. that is not the point of the story. that is not the point in him telling you the story. what truth or not there is you divide out of it is up to you. he cannot do that for you and he wouldn't if he could. or maybe he would. he doesn't know. he would rather not be given that power and authority. he will not take it. he could trick you into thinking it's true or not, but that is all it would be - a trick.
    but nevermind. it's just another story thing passing through his mind. did he begin the story yet? do you remember? do you know where the story begins?
    once upon a time in a forest, or maybe in a city, or maybe in an mind - a mind of minds.
    sunlight. morning. sitting by a window here trying to think up a story to leave behind for you on his way sitting up in a tree awhile - a lifetime. however long it takes.
    what?
    to leave you with that question in mind. what? to transfer that question from his mind to yours. what? if that one question is what you are left with at the end of this he has successfully communicated himself to you. what?
    or maybe, huh?
    whichever.
    or, what the fuck?
    what the fuck indeed.
    the absurdity. the wholesale absurdity of it. he listens to himself speak. he reads what he writes. what the fuck? the more he tries to explain it the more absurd it becomes. gathering and letting go. process. flow. it comes and goes. it it does not come then it cannot go. if it does not go then it cannot come. a simple rule to come and go - if you want or need a simple rule to come and go. so easily broken. shattered into complexity. a list of rules. a book of lists of rules. a library of books of lists of rules. a world of libraries of books of lists of rules. the wholesale absurdity of it.
    just sitting in his tree. and no one gets up his tree except a monkey like him. are you a monkey like him? how would you know? and which tree? and which monkey? do you know?
    a notebook.
    a cup of coffee.
    a cigarette.
    a cafe.
    a window.
    he sees you.
    do you see him?
    you and he can be anyone.
    the clouds go by. the moon and the stars. the world. the war. the conversations at the tables. the people. the people everywhere. once in awhile he sees a monkey like him. they grin. they know who each other are. they can fool everyone else but they can't fool themselves. it takes one to know one.
    another story.
    so many stories to choose from. so many lies we can tell you so you won't get upset - won't get confused. we could use our silver tongued words on you and conjure up visions of pretty pictures. or maybe even the ugly ones that give you the sense that some truth is being reveled. you like those the best. and you'd eat it all up like cotton candy. you love to believe that you're perceiving through the veils of illusions and feel like the scales of deception are falling from your eyes. enlightenment. how proud you are that you have figured out the tricks they played on you to keep you down. now you are free. we see it all the time.
    we see you. do you see us?
    we listen to you as you tell the tale of your latest discovery. how wonderful. a clue. you've picked up a clue. we wait for you to pick up another. so many stories to tell you. that seems to be the only way we can get you to pick up any of the clues. you won't take them if we walk up and hand it to you. take this and eat it. you think we are trying to trick you. so we must then trick you. we go back into the kitchen and mix it up with some other stuff that tastes good and come back. here, we baked you a cake. thank you, you say and pick up a fork.
    it's so easy.
    you make it so easy.
    so easy to run rings around you while you don't even notice that we're moving at all. we're just sitting here drinking coffee and smoking cigarettes and gazing out the window. who us? naw, we're just hanging out doing nothing. don't mind us. just shuffling our way up and down the sidewalks. not here. not there. not anywhere at all. fading from your consciousness as you hurry by. a list in your hand knocking on doors in your scavenge hunt.
    x marks the spot. you haven't even made it to the island yet let alone the garden. and there's only one way to get here too. you have to go down with the ship in the storm on an otherwise calm sea. you have to be washed ashore being left with nothing but your life on the beach.
                                 each.
                                 each on a beach. to end up with no one to talk to because no one understands a single word you say. might as well be anywhere or to have come from anywhere as much as being here now. and we're not talking geography. don't start looking for a map or an atlas. and you imagine anything you want to because there is no longer any reason not to. all the people. all the places. all the things. it all only just you up and down the beach. another place. another time. here and now.
    and this isn't some tropical get-away paradise. you don't get to pack your bags full of things you were going to get to when and if you had the time. maybe that's where you were headed but all that just sank to the bottom of the sea. all that remains is what you remember - what you've put together so far.
    x marks the spot. but you're not on any map you may have gone by so far. the only map is your mind. how much do you remember? how much can you imagine? will your mind turn against you now that you need it most? what can you trust now that everything you've trusted has been lost? how much do you trust yourself now that there's no one else to tell you if you're right or wrong? how lost are you? is this strange or familiar?
    but don't worry. skip over this part. such things don't happen to you. look for another story somewhere else. a story about people whose lives go along as they should go along - even if they might get a little bumpy. a story of people who always have someone or something they can count on. something that makes them feel safe. like an old fear. like an old friend.  something that won't let them alone. something familiar.
    stories upon stories upon stories. variations upon themes. fear. stories of fear. the foundation upon which all great civilizations have been built and all other human activity is based. as familiar as fear.
    that is the field of flags at the center of the imaginary city - the field of fear. to claim that as our common ground. to meet there on equal terms. flags of useless worn and tattered uniforms on tree branch poles we dance around naked to each other and ourselves. to have been lost in strange lands without this familiar landmark and to have lived through lifetimes with it buried beneath and hidden under all else we believed in on top of it that has turned to ruin. the imaginary city stands in the ruins. out in the open. dancing in fear that this may be our last chance. it is our last chance - our only chance. on the beach with the waves washing in and out. nowhere else to go now and no way to get there anyway.
    hail victory!

    meanwhile a river of words flows by as he gazes into them pretending he is sidhartha or some other monky-assed fool as that. he laughs at them. they mean nothing. they mean anything. they mean everything. he reaches in and splashes them in your face and runs like hell before you can catch him. off to find some tree somewhere to hide in and look down as you run by lost in the woods as he is too. only you are afraid and want to find your way out again. you are afraid that you are somehow losing your mind if you stay here long enough and this nonsense you're reading begins maybe to be something you can understand.
    get out.
    go away.
    go on back to your own kind who speak in structured forms of language you can feel safe in again.
    boo!
    this is the land to be feared and forbidden. you've strayed from the flock. return now before he eats you alive. don't you know who he is? didn't they warn you since you were a child? stop here. put this down. do whatever you're supposed to be doing instead. do not begin it again or you are his to keep and do with as it amuses him.

    part 666.
    it begins again.
    it may still be the game though we have probably forgotten that by now. on to bigger and better things. hello. so it's you and him now that he's done his best to frighten the tourists away again. those who want someone to hold their hand and guide them through the netherworlds of never never and imagination toward where they really don't want to go otherwise they'd be able to get there themselves.
    so here we are in dadaland of surreal melting clocks and infinite landscapes twisted through alternate spaces and times and false messiahs parachuting from the hovering spaceships and elvis everywhere. the disneyland of fear and damnation cloaked in the possibility of escape. welcome to the greatest show on earth. welcome to heaven and hell and all between. welcome to everything. the circus is in town and everybody has free admission except those who have to pay for their sins. he's got a front row center balcony seat and you're invited to join him - not too close and not too far where he can watch the performance and the audience alike. it's all the same to him. laughter fills the air from those who are in on the joke. all others run and hide nowhere. the land of fear has been uncovered rising from the gut level screaming mad and shitting in its pantaloons as words and worlds become incomprehensible garbage spewing from majestic fountains like well-rehearsed vomit and blood and no one can hear themselves think.
    climb up into the tree with him and look down and out and around on panic city during the last minute countdown. there is nothing more for us to do but wait. wait for them to figure it out. this is the test. wait to see how much they studied for it - how much they are prepared.
    we cannot judge. we cannot possibly know who is who and what is what in this tangled mass mess we've gotten ourselves into. we just wait while they judge themselves - while they race about looking for those who had done them wrong. dog eat dog. gunshots and burning cars. stores looted of their false promises. the trickling stream has become a rushing torrent. we hope this old tree can take it. it's shaking and rocking down to its roots. hold on. if it goes we'll just have to go with it. try to ride it out. no guarantees on nothing no more. but he'll take his chances on something with roots rather than a foundation. something that's there because it's supposed to be and found a place to thrive rather than something put up because there was a profit to be made in it - and the less put into it the more profit left over.
    have another cup of coffee - another cigarette. sit down and talk to us. tell us what you see. tell us what went wrong - what went right. the master plan. we're only human. we made a lot of mistakes along the way. but don't take things as they are on the surface. it's not that simple. some of the mistakes were part of the design. everything comes and goes. and look at what we had to work with - a bunch of monkeys just like us who, if we hadn't shaken their tree, would have done nothing at all. and maybe that's where we should have left them. but we wanted them to come see what we were seeing. we wanted them to see how wonderful it is. maybe we were wrong. maybe it was because we were afraid to be out here alone. at this point that is rather moot. this is it. take a good long look. this is the vision we've had for thousands of years when everything comes apart like wrapping on a birthday present and revels what it's been all along. we hope you like what we've worked very hard to give you. it's what you asked for in your dreams - do you remember? you asked us to bring you back to the garden and this was the only way we knew how. a place where you could sleep warm, safe and comfortable. nothing in your closet or under the bed. nothing looking in the window. and a place to play. and always something new while the familiar remained near by.
    and we had to keep it hidden. we didn't want you to find it before it was finished. we wanted it to be a surprise. we let you think it wasn't possible - just a idle dream. and it was. it was our idle dream. we had nothing else but an idle dream to work out of our heads. that was our job while you took care of the rest of it - the business of the everyday. and now our job is nearly done. it remains for you to find it and put it together. the absurdity of it. do you see that? you'll laugh when you do. you'll be mad that we tricked you but you'll laugh when you see it and understand why.

    meanwhile.
    blah blah blah. ha-haha. zap! what?
    neo-dadaistic hoopla oink oink as bimbo turns a cartwheel off the edge of what may or may not become someone watching tv as it fades from view spinning still as the cows in the meadow were cars we once thought we were betting on a display of twelve singing window boxes with dirt and dead sticks which then formulated a further development.
    the devil's watching, said a mouse.
    this is to be expected, said mr. bismarck flying a kite, as this is no longer art as it reflects nothing as once it did when i was a young boy fishing from the pier in the city where i was brought up. he raised a quick eye toward us. did i tell you this before? he asked a bit shyly.
    it was as though he wanted us to feel ashamed. we couldn't think of any reason why we should, so we didn't.
    well, not exactly this, wad replied. not exactly in those words. but at other times you have said this before though in a startling different manner, i think. we wondered often what you might be talking about. you speak of this art of yours that you speak of as though it were a measurable thing. and maybe it is if that is what you speak of. but maybe we are wrong and this is not what you intended.
    me? mr. bismarck shouted as he let go of his kite which was very high in the sky. my intentions? do not come here now to me about intentions. what they are, if anything at all, are of no one's consequence or concern.
    there's that word again, wad continued. and please don't shout at us. consequence? is that it then?
    i told you, mr. bismarck's voice lowered, the consequence is of no one's concern . what you make of it from that revels your intentions no mine. am i mistaken?
    no, i suppose you are not. we, however, know our intentions and this is not one of them.
    and how am i to know this?
    you are not to know it. would you believe it if you did?
    belief now? perhaps trust too? we are sinking ourselves a bit deep, aren't we?
    is there any other way to it?
    it depends on what it is you are trying to get to. is it the same thing to you and i? do either of us want to get to it before the other and grab it for ourselves and who we represent?
    and now we speak of representation? what more do you wish to add? this, especially when we have resolved nothing.
    what is there to resolve? i see nothing. so how am i to take this stance of resolution to be anything other than a further point of conflict?
    i can see that. i can see all that we have spoken of here. i suppose it would not be advisable for us to continue.
    no, it may not be.
    then let's stop here.
    if you choose.
    i do not choose. i see that i must.
    correct. i agree.
    and then we left. outside, milk spoke to wad, i don't understand. why do we continually run into this?
    i'm not sure yet, said wad. i am taking note of it.
    what are we talking about? asked wheel.
    nothing, wad and milk said together as we slid by into another frame. something tuning the radio between stations to find the voices we heard before. anti-social. a grin. pick it up. none of us were even there to begin with after all. maybe. another turn. a woman was one of two of us. the names we used were forgotten as was our numbers. each of us left talking to ourselves finding another way out of it. a house. a garden. where does it belong? writing a poem upstairs in a bedroom. sitting at a desk. a squeaky voice. a gathering. angel. it was raining.
    and he tries. he tries to give you a picture. he was not there but he remembers something of it. described once. then again. fragments. it was wonderful. he tries to tell you something wonderful. a big grin and sparkling eyes. he remembers that. have you ever looked into the mirror and seen yourself laughing? he cannot think about that now. you seem to want something you can take seriously. no monkey business. he tries. he looks around for words. they are scattered. he doesn't want to leave you out of it. he doesn't want to leave anyone out of it. but perhaps he must. he waits behind the others. they beckon to him to keep up. wait. even one more. just one more. scissors. knives. sunlight. an ashtray again. a hat. a kiss. a coat thrown over a chair. he looks for something familiar for you. a toy fire truck. a bus. an airport. shipyard. the sound of a car with a hole in the muffler a few blocks away. a warm summer evening. a loose brick in a patio. he doesn't know. why does he think these things? what are they to him? what are they to you? is anything common? who are you to him? you can and should find your own. delightful. amazing. like nothing else ever. can you find this? chocolate ice cream. he writes of things that become transparent. false. tricks. yes. think of it like that. think of him tricking you and go another way toward what you cannot turn your eyes away from. distraction. thoughts. a list of things to do. brush your teeth. wait. maybe it's very close. behind you. behind the next door. door to door. next. rhythm broken by footsteps. child. warm. baby. hot. listening. the easy drift of conversation. listen to different sequences in the order of the words. where do they lead to? can you hear them? nevermind. it's just something else. talking out loud among friends you hope you can trust without thinking. he waits here. the young. he looks away. another cigarette. an empty table next to him. all the people who come and go. he reaches for it. yes again. it's still there. good. he doesn't believe it. him. to him. happening to him. opening. out of the dream. to tell you. to be able to tell you. to be able to find something else. unmuted mouth. more than the silence of his words now. he shakes his head. happy. sad. joy. anger. static on the radio. listen again. the noise is something else. dig a hole. smile. turn over a rock. smile. blown away away. downstream. tears. a thousand million billion trillion tears and no one talking to you knows a thing about it with all they've seen and read about not a thing about it. it's only you. it's only him. it's only us. it's only them. all. and no merge blend of all for one and one for all. no fuck the rest, we're the best. no any way you mix it up and try to shape your head into it. leave it alone. untouched and untouchable. it's just fine. couldn't be more perfect. look again as it spills on the floor. what a mess. laugh. no more. and he has deceived you again. he made you think of something else. remember that day we went to the river? water. clock. a road. waiting. forget the symbols. they can't mean anything. he doesn't mean to seem to instruct you. he knows you won't stand for that for an instant. you already know. you just haven't guessed what it is yet of all the thoughts in your wild mind which one or two or three or a dozen go together to break it all apart and leave you standing in the middle of it. leave you alone. leave you with us welcoming you home right in your own backyard after a long long journey. this is what we remember. how could we forget? how simple and complex can it be? imagine. make it up. think of a joke. take all the concerns you worry about yourself and others and make up a joke about it. don't forget to laugh. look in the mirror. watch the mirror shatter when it can't make you look ugly anymore. you've had enough of that, haven't you? or have you? all the thoughts in your head that make up the mask you pull out from the mirror and wear on your face. you think we cannot see you? you think we can't see that you can't see us? we're laughing in your face and you don't blink an eye. critical. a point against him. judgment. he wants to shake you down. he wants to rip you apart until you laugh in his face. but he knows what you'd do. he knows how much it hurts in pain without pleasure. wait. tick-tick-tick. you're a time bomb. any day now your whole world is going to explode into fits of laughter. he can see it now. can you? is that what you're waiting for too? or is it only the endless struggle of the war without end. or does it just fade away? or do we just choke on our own stupidity or burn in our own destruction? what does it do for you? what are you waiting for? shake yourself down and rip yourself apart. or do you keep patching it up and holding it together through another day limping on the best you can and hope the money holds out stocking up with as much as you can? memorize facts. collect information. gather in pieces of dreams to make come true someday. the world of despair and easy solutions designed only to keep things quiet and drugs to keep you getting to work on time. wheels turning the big machine. chewing it up and spitting it out. group think armies marching to the front and the determined look of those bent on success or the shrugs of those who put up with it. he's deflated it with a pin and now it's withered and useless blue with brown/green splotches laying in the gutter. he laughs at the idea. he laughs at himself seeing himself laughing in the mirror. what a fool he was. what an even bigger fool he is now. what a colossal fool he intends to become. what a joke. back to it. speaking unknown language. language of unknown ducks. quacking. he remembers you. he moves. he breathes. a shadow. he is around you. he is with you. he slips away. words. whispers. dancing from one to the other. names. make one up. make up two. one for him and one for you. what frightens you now? what makes you run and hide? what made you give up? he gave up for a long time yesterday. you were so close. you were almost there. you turned away from it at the last step. the edge. into the land of fear. you took it seriously. you stopped laughing. your face went dead. control. you regained control. or someone did. who? is it you? he remembers you. somewhere. sometime. if it was you you'd smile. you'd grin. you'd laugh in his face. you walk right on by. a thousand of you a day walk right on by. a thousand of us who walk right on by. a thousand of them who walk right on by. a thousand words that walk right on by. listen to nothing. static. dead. death. death is nothing. that's the joke. fear nothing. nothing but fear. the land that time forgot. a space of existence. existence is the switch. life and death are on and off. a time of existence. find existence and you find everything. build it from that on out. grow from it. find existence and you find life and death to be just blowing in your hair. something you eat and shit. but that is not your concern, is it? nothing is true. listen for it. it comes and goes. he waits. another time. just something. words. and now that is all gone. now he has seen it vanish and he's brought it back for idle amusement. and now he waits for you - someone to see it too.

    part 6661/2
    ring it up. ring the bell. swing the hammer. tally the score. count up the take. what's the profit margin here? nobody goes home until the bills are paid. you think we let you into this for nothing? you think we're going to hand you paradise on a sliver platter? there's a few more hoops for you to jump through before you get your pellet, baby dude. you bet.
    we put in our time for it. we put our pieces together. we set it up. we take the fall so you get to dance in the spotlight before the cheering masses. the great liberator. that is what you want, isn't it? - to be the one(s) who set them free? - to give them the word, the inspiration, to rise up out of themselves and enter the promised land at long last?
    that's what we're here for. that's what we've been here for the whole time. maybe yes. maybe no. can't be no hero unless there's a villain to run out of town - eh? that's what we're here for so you can be the savior.
    you got a gun? you better get one before it's too late - especially if you're the one(s) who is right and we're the ones who are wrong. the war is still on. and nevermind that. just load up and don't question nothing.
    he stopped asking questions a long time ago. he didn't like the answers he was either being given or came up with himself. it's all nothing now. he just asks for two things. (1) keep him from thinking he knows something. (2) keep him from those who think they know something. as long as those conditions are met he's a happy boy and will not become a violent threat to those around him as he has had to do before. sitting around doing nothing all day except what he needs to do to keep it all away. another refill, please. light up another cigarette.
    as soon as he starts thinking that it makes sense, as soon as he falls in with someone who he thinks is beginning to make sense. yeah, that's right. why didn't i think of that before? what a fool i've been. it's so obvious. then he gets in big trouble. deep shit city. he once again conjures up the knowledge of good and evil. once again he gets cast out of the garden.
    so he prays to whoever is in charge here to keep him from this temptation of that knowledge of dividing this from that and of placing value on one above the other and to keep him from all those who come to him with this knowledge who know it so well they must tell it to everyone they can. he can see it in their eyes. give him the strength to resist their words that sound as though truth is reveled. get them behind him. get them away from him. he doesn't care where they go or where they take it as long as it's not here. give them everything they want. give them everything they need. but just tell them to go away -away - away. tell them to set up their show in some other part of town.
    or, he'll leave if he has to. take him some place else. they can have all of this that they want to if that is what they want. but they don't get him with it - not alive anyway.
    so get your guns. gather your armies. you'll need them if you're trying to get him on your side in the war to end all wars no matter what label and flag whether it's true or not true that is fully documented up the yin/yang. there is no way at all he'll fall in with you and your kind which includes your enemy as much as yourselves.
    fuck your perfect world.
    the only way he'll fit into it is when you put him in the ground in a unmarked grave and walk away. as long as he is alive he is one absolutely wholly singularly unique among you and will always remain so. fuck your definitions. when he's dead he won't be around to argue with you anymore and you can have it your way if you  insist. until then what you have to say is gibberish nonsense. you might as well be talking to a wall - a stone wall. the firing squad.
    jump through the hoop. shut up. don't ask stupid questions. just pull the trigger and go home and have a nice fucking day.
    another cigarette.
    learn to forget.
    you've found your paradise at last. it's about fucking time. had to drag you to it kicking and screaming the whole way. and if it's not him, then who? one of you? it's gotta be somebody. nobody gets in for free.
    except him.
    ha!
    get it yet? or are you the one we have to have taken out and shot? that'd be cool with him. he'll gladly step aside.
    what?
    how'd that happen? how did you become the villain all of a sudden? it happened so fast. it was so much better when you held the gun and stood in a line ready to execute in the name of the revolution - right? that was your happy ending. it gave you what you wanted at long long last.
    but nobody gets in for free. we all have to take our turn. we all have to get a bullet between the eyes or through our heart - whatever it takes to bring about this paradise on earth. it's too easy when somebody dies for you. what happens when it's your turn to die for someone else? that's the eye of the needle trip. dada. make it all dada. when one thing is the same as the other and you can flip it any way you want to because it's all just gibberish nonsense anyway - right?

    it begins here.
    it begins here again.
    it continues beginning.
    a word.
    one word.
    another word.
    more words.
    only words.
    they are meant to be nothing more than what they are.
    this is his curse.
    this is his madness.
    that much is true.
    the words explain nothing more than his madness.
    that much is true.
    what is found to be in these words other than that is up to whoever might happen upon them.
    maybe you.
    to find another meaning just might be an indication that you too are mad or are going mad.
    are you?
    that might not be the case, but if it is the case, you have been warned.
    and he, by the authority and power he invests in himself as being quite mad, absolves himself of any and all responsibility of any and all damages and injury to your present sanity and psychic stability and steady state of mind otherwise and then some - ok?.
    so there.
    don't come crying to him about it when everything in your world shatters.
    it had to happen eventually.
    maybe this is the catalyst.
    maybe not.
    we can only hope and prey.

    and as it goes.
    and as it begins where and when it ends.
    and as it ends where and when it begins.
    it could be very close to beginning and ending and beginning again.
    finding out nothing. nothing to find out. again. follow it through between a raindrop on the end of your nose. something tickling. something irritating. something misplaced. practice. perfect. perfection of practice. error. try it again. begin. broken. wait for it. this time. work. riding his bicycle winding downhill through the streets toward the bridges. which one? on the clock. always on the clock. open. close. squeeze through. just a moment to spare. all the time in the world. make it easy. relationship. difficult. relative. cycle. meet someone head on pissed off bummed out. timing's off. smash the fucking clock. try it again. begin. set it back. way back machine. way back in our heads where and when it synchs in. ha-ha. somehow through that. don't know quite how yet. ain't got time for it now. no big deal. clocks are just there. move through them. the seconds tick-click like scissors. careful. time it right. one more time. in/out. tune to the frequency then slightly shift off it. got it down now. any time he wants. and something more about hats. especially mad hats. risky. there's this thing about tea parties and such. the thing about the hat is that someone's gotta wear the hat. someone else puts the hat on your head. put your own hat on your own head. but then it's just a hat. nothing's expected more than that. but with someone else's hat your expected to pull things out of the hat like that. and in the cases of mad hats and tea parties you can do that. it's easy. but the difficulty is that once you do it once they want you to do it again. amusement. and again. every time something out of a hat. because once you don't do it once then it's off with your head. this happens. and it's not a problem except as long as even though they put the hat on your head you don't put your head in the hat. not like that. so when it's off with your head with that hat and if your head's not in the hat then it's just a hat and that's that. you get to keep your head. but wait. and a thing about heads. heads are important things to have. they come in useful. you can wear a hat. he still has his head. he doesn't know how sometimes he managed to keep it thus far this long but there it is. he sometimes wonders what it is attached to. his head goes anywhere. his head does anything. it's fun. it's worth the trouble it sometimes causes you to keep it. it's sometimes necessary to stick your head up your ass in order to keep it. sometimes you don't know that you have done this. it seems to be an automatic defense mechanism. it's warm. it's safe. it's dark and you can catch up on your sleep. but then you're surrounded by shit. but at least it's your own shit and not someone else's. and it's usually better to have your head up your own ass than up someone else's.

    he was going on in his head about something trying to come up with some sort of explanation about these things he was thinking about thinking that he knows something. of course he doesn't know anything about it and if he remains true to whatever it is he is trying to remain true to he will keep himself from thinking he knows anything about it. hmmm... is this a dilemma yet? he supposes it is only if he thinks it is. if he thinks he knows that it is a dilemma. whereas if he doesn't think about that and proceeds on as par norm as always and then some then everything will be ok more or less - right?
    this might be known as escapist thinking - or some such. he's sure someone has a name for it. a doctor of one denomination or another. they've probably written books about it and appeared on tv. you should go look them up.
    as to what it was he had begun with before the spur of the moment drove him on elsewherewise but which is to say that as it is when one is thinking that they know something. and as he writes something about pronouns being the variables of language. doesn't that sound like something? pronouns are the variables of the equation of language. maybe he'll be famous for writing that. maybe someone else has already written it. if so, then it must not be much of anything because he doesn't know of anybody being famous for writing it. but then what does he know? he doesn't know a whole shitload of things.
    so now he's writing about two things at least. (1) about people thinking they know things. (2) pronouns being the variables of language.
    instead, he lights another cigarette.
    and there was something else he wanted to write about that he was talking to himself about on the bus ride downtown to here but that was a few hours ago and he was talking to a number of people between then and now and has quite forgotten it thinking about it that long ago this thing to explain that was in his head age of time right hot on his heels be here now fabled what was it like another dark good or bad mental oblivion off out of anyway know something further misadventures forgetting everything that reality go to now remember it as it swallowed it up keeping track around and there fed and maintained he thinks at all a few ways track of paying attention a moment ago do they know it with things have their own sequence he looks that checks in code phrases he ain't gonna leave nobody's hands don't trust the code take your bogus reality classic paranoia of books figure out all about that keep turning around and barking let it slide he's not barking at you wanna know then fuck off he understands he doesn't know that it was anything shift into a state of mind is hovering then it was groovy was cruising fast enough or get to whoosh flash by away from and also getting away chasing thing both of those catch up was trying to put way distance he maintained touch him touched it that's fine separate trip the thing you're trying to get away from fuck it eventually hicksville figure it out by this time pull off the same which was ok nothing could touch him hit this vibrating everywhere dig that and freak cleverly disguised caffeine junkie stutter in another language cigarettes about exactly are back in the cafe hicktown landing all these people with guns out there friendly how come x-ray mind scope sweeping lead lined coveralls step outside it was safe concealed and so maybe hovering is that you the ground walk around so forget they were just waiting it turned out who had right in the midst mingle can instantly above it as you want parked orbit need to there somehow leave someone take up space the advantage you can put yourself just smile at the passers-by.