one can't go home anymore and there's no place like home.
    hello? anybody home?
    who's there? who's here? who's anywhere?
    who is anyone? who are we?
    what?
    a dime a dozen. 13. hello?
    is there a doctor in the house? we have a doctor in our house. our doctor would like to talk to their doctor. who's house is this? who owns this house? who's the doctor?
    are they the doctor? are we the doctor? does someone need a doctor? does the doctor need a doctor?
    who?
    hello? anybody home?
    skin. living flesh. living breathing in/out.
    take a breath.
    which is which? who is who?

    this is the message. is this the message one has been waiting for?
    hello? anybody home?
    maybe we've made a mistake. maybe this is not the party to whom we are writing. writing what? writing the message. what is the message? is there a message?
    hello? anybody home?
    what?
    what is this?
    disease. is someone sick? is there a doctor in the house? there isn't one in ours. we don't have a house for there to be a doctor in.
    maybe we are the doctor. maybe one of us is the doctor. is one one of us? are we one of them?
    maybe we are them. the dreaded and most feared of all.
    them.
    we are them?
    we don't feel like them. we feel like us. yet we feel sometimes that others feel that we are them.
    who are we?
    who is anyone?
    how are we to know who anyone is? how does anyone know who we are?
    maybe we are one of them. maybe they are one of us.
    who is one and not the other? how many of us are there? who's counting?
    we may be one. we may be dozens - hundreds - thousands - millions - billions. how does anyone know?
    and how many of there are of the others? one? billions? who is who?
    we feel ourselves to be billions. we lost count somewhere. somewhere past one. actually we haven't been counting. has anyone? do they know how many they are? do they know how many we are?
    we also feel that they are one of us. but they obviously feel that they are not.
    we feel that we are one of them. but we feel that they feel that we are not. maybe they don't want us to be one of them. that's ok. we would still like them to be one of us. but if they don't want to it's ok. we understand.
    we understand them. we watch them every day when we can see them. we understand how they feel about us.
    or do we?
    who is this anyway?
    hello? anybody home?

    follow a thread. what thread? there are so many. many strands of thread. some are twisted and bound together into strings and ropes. are these the threads we should follow?
    it seems very simple and easy to follow these threads. but what about those that stray every which way about or are tangled in knots? should we follow them? who should follow them? and where to? and why? and how?
    should we leave them to go the way they go or direct them toward the others bundled together?
    what? who cares?

    closed circles in whatever other twist and shape they may be or whatnot.
    no place here about now. no place at all. and when we escape where do we go?
    and whoever could we be who we are not now? does it matter?
    but who are we now? who are we pretending to be? disconnected from ourselves and into social units functioning and dysfunctioning together. and apart. we are so far apart. the more our sameness is different. the more our differences are the same. and so much confusion in-between.
    we are no one and everyone. we are us and we are them. we are anyone one may or may not know. we cannot be trusted and are the only one's one can trust.
    but trust us with what? what does one trust?

    dance into the free zone. dance away with it. leave these damned fools behind to fight among themselves.
    and where do we go? where is there left to go now that all the free space has been divided up and sold to all the highest bidders? the greedy pigs.
    we go into our minds and they follow us with their propaganda and instructions. divide up our heads and sell them to the highest bidder.
    and so we finally go out of our minds. whose minds do we go out of? our minds? their minds? we leave their minds placed in our heads and into our minds where they cannot reach us.

    hello? anybody home?
    who does one think one is?
    hello?
    who does one think we are?
    who is oneself?
    who are we?
    who are we together? who are we apart? is one for us or against us? who are we? we are us. we are them. we could be anyone anywhere at anytime.
    what's going on here? what are we trying to write about?

    and it was something else with our head in a blank. we know nothing more and nothing less than what we know. what do we know?
    it seems so simple and it seems to be so complex. what do we know? what is more or less?
    what is it?

    chop it up.
    where are we now?
    cut one up into little pieces - one of these days - one of these days.
    look it in the eyes - in the eye. what is it? what is to be seen? raise it up. pull it down. the forest surrounds us still despite the walls we've built against it.
    zero population. device. and what is where it's at? who knows how many times we've tried to get through to them. countless many. they've turned it all back into their power games.
    lift one's heart out of the involuted spirals they are locked into - down and down.

    something.
    hello? we are here now. this is the place and this is the time. x-ray vision. figure it out. we are here to stop them and there is nothing they can do to stop us. we know them. we watch them. we know the game they are playing.
    hello? anybody home?
    they have lost their sense of direction. they have lost their sense of balance. they have lost their sense of the whole reality.

    hello? anybody home?
    is this the message one has been waiting for? maybe it is and maybe it's not. what is the message one has been waiting for? what is this message?
    what?
    anybody home? hello?
    the color blue.
    an open door.
    and we are waiting. we are opening the door. the eye of the needle. into through the surrounding world. the forest world we have built walls against.
    listen. one may be able to hear it. look. one may be able to see it. and on and on.
    hello? anybody home?
 
    following the course of lies. looking to the right and looking to the left. looking up and down. doubt. faith through doubt. first eliminate all one believes in to find what one believes in. to answer the question, eliminate the answers.
    we are nowhere.
    this is the place and this is the time.
    let us tell one that there is a network of people in psychic communication with one another through space and time who have designed and built and maintain and operate a hyperdimensonally connected series of devices designed to pull us out of this world and into another through an eye of a needle when the time comes for this to happen.
    we are hijacking the technology of this planet and leaving it behind and anyone who wants to come will go and we'll leave the others to fight among themselves to the death for all the ideals they are so sure are right.
    this is real.
    what?
    and one can remain behind. but all one has to do is to doubt. their death will give us life. we will pass through the fire of their destruction.
 
    their world is the womb that has nurtured us and our kind. its destruction will be our birth. we will not need them anymore. they are the chaff which was useful for a time to produce the wheat. we will go on from them while they die and rot. we will live to dance on their graves.
    we will use their own technology to do this as we have been using it all along. this is the machine. we have over thousands of years gotten them to build for us everything we need to do this from pyramids to cyclotrons. they are all connected through hyperdimensional networks of devices that will shift the whole planet to the heaven garden from which it came and is to return.
    this is it. so keep on with what one is doing. one is doing a great job. we will take care of the rest. we are the embryonic human children of the gods who have guided us through this so that we may become as they are. we have been given the karma knowledge of good and evil and have worked through it to the moment that is the moment of eternity. the moment always now.
    we are them. the lines are drawn by the others. whose side is one on? has one fallen or risen? the lines crisscross through everything and everyone. they have split and divided us against one another. this was the dynamic of the world to temper us to become more than human and join the gods who wait for us in the hyperdimensional spacetime of their existence.
    we transcend the finite perception of the world around us and see the reality of the whole world infinite - the many worlds that surround us. we see all in different ways. how does one see it for oneself? does one see oneself living in a world soon to be destroyed? shift out of it. we have shifted out of it into a world ever-present.
    the forest is around us always. we need only to take down the walls we have built up against it to be in it. or those walls will be forcibly torn down.
    we have all been deluded by the fantasy reality that surrounds us now. the walls. the layers and layers of walls. physical, social, economic, political, spiritual. personal and collective. we have been cast out from where our imagination can run wild and free. we have imprisoned ourselves in a maze of mirrors. the only way out is to go into the mirror itself. there is more than simplistic dualistic finite binary reality that surrounds us. more than this and that. there is always the other thing. we are more than black and white. shift into the gray between and beyond. we are neither one nor the other. following the lines between and beyond. following the edge between and beyond.
    the flowing tide. the waves on the beach of the island.
    the lathe of heaven.

    the joker laughs at all of us as we are the joker. we have the last laugh.
    the joker laughs at the doctor. the joker becomes the doctor laughing. the doctor laughs in the maze of mirrors. we become the doctor laughing.
    wait for it. wait beside oneself again as we twist and turn again. the dream doctor. the doctor in a dream. it was always something else. it was a dream returning to itself.
 
    hello? anybody home?
    we are home. is anyone else? who are they? who are we?
    we are them to those who are us. all who are us who need a them to define themselves as someone different. they oppose themselves in the war that can never be won.
    it makes sense if one thinks about it long enough. or not. think about it long enough until it makes sense. or not. we did. or maybe we thought about it a little too long. maybe it really doesn't make sense. maybe we don't make sense. maybe that's why it makes sense to us because neither it or we make sense.
    what?
    nevermind.
    keep busy.
    hello? anybody home?
    what's the difference?

    well, we can explain this as simply as we can but it becomes far too complicated. we all are them. we all are us - the human race as such. but there are those among us who divide themselves apart from international world wide organizations down to small circles of friends. they all go by a multitude of names and have a multitude of reasons for dividing themselves apart from the rest of us. they all refer to themselves as us. they refer to the rest of us as them. ergowise, we are them. it is by their definition not ours. we refuse to take part in this otherwise. we do not identify ourselves separate from the others - even those who identify themselves as separate from us.
    we refuse to be limited by this. we have opened up to surrounding worlds outside those walls they have built.
    come out.
    come out.
    come out.
    move out of the finite world into the infinite one where we decide what is and what is not outside the reach of their divided minds that are afraid to extend out into the wild and free imagination. out into the limitless open spaces. they are unable to touch one another. they twist and turn inside themselves and cannot escape the endless reflections of themselves in the maze of mirrors.
    the mirrors are the way to escape. become the mirror. follow the thread. become invisible to their gaze that only sees themselves and images of themselves.

    hello? anybody home?
    how many times must we ask? who are we asking? who is home? who is not home? we live in a us versus them world against our will. we move elsewhere. we move into the here and now of it. their fantasy reality concepts that have no substance to the real. they make them all up. the whole thing is a scam. power and control. we resist as best as we are able. as such we are designated as being them.
    this has been a war of wills between us. we have watched while they take over more and more. they have just about taken over the whole planet.
    almost but not quite.
    the clock is ticking down to zero.
    we don't have time. we try to get this out as best we can to whoever. if one can't pick it up then that's too bad. but there's nothing we can do about that.
    but there are enough who already know.
    they are ready. we are ready.
    the here and now.
    mind shift/ship.

    hello? anybody home?
    or are there only puppets on strings allowing themselves to be controlled for a houseful of toys?
    hello? anybody home?
    we are calling out the names from deep in the forest. the forest that surrounds us still though we've built up walls against it. the psychic forest - sort of. the forest that frightens them into obedience. dark and scary. there's lions and tigers and bears. there are monsters galore. oh my!
    they are afraid to move. they lock themselves up. but they cannot escape what frightens them most - their own minds.
    that is where the fear comes from. that is what creates the images of everything they think is out there to get them. it's all in their mind. their mind that is not in their control but operates from the images implanted there by others who are out of control themselves.
    who?
    take a guess. think about it.
    who has a vested interest in keeping one locked up in a safe comfortable house? who has a vested interest in convincing one that these are not prison cells?
    who has a vested interest in when one does come out of one's house that one stays on certain paths and that one doesn't wander off somewhere?
    who has a vested interest in keeping one working at whatever one does? who fills one with fear that one cannot stop no matter what? who has it set up so that one can never get ahead?
    can one guess? does one know?
    the answer is them.
    and the answer to that is we are them.
    it's us.
    we have the whole joke turned back on the others. we're the ones running the show and have been for thousands of years. and no one knows who we are.
    ha!
    was that one's guess? is that who one thought it was? or was it someone else? whoever one thought of actually works for us. they're our front. they're our agents in this world.
    does anyone know who we are? we are the nameless. any name applies. we use whatever name we need to but none of the names we use are who we are.
    but who are we?
    maybe we're demons from hell. maybe we're angels from heaven. maybe we're beings from another dimension. maybe we're the gods themselves. maybe we're just plain human. weird genetic mutant freaks that pop up in every generation out of the mix and match of the gene pool matrix. maybe we are incarnations of chaos in their ordered world. maybe we are incarnations of order in their chaotic world.
    maybe we're all of the above. maybe we're nothing but a bunch of lunatics.
    hello? anybody home?
    we are calling out the names from the deep dark forests in one's mind.
    hello? anybody home?

    who is there? who is not there?
    we are calling out the names. this is one's wake up call.
    anybody in there? anybody out there?
    this is it. this is the place and the time. here and now. it's coming down. it's coming up. it's coming from all directions. we've got them surrounded on all sides - even sides they didn't know existed though they might have suspected.
    the war is over. surrender. we're going home and we will leave anyone behind who is not ready when we split. and we're not taking anyone who is armed to the teeth with whatever type of weapon. put them down. turn off the defensive screens. open the gates and come out with one's hands up.
    ha!
    do they want to keep up this whole trip forever? how long? because it's not gonna last forever. they're so schitzed out they're gonna blow it all up and themselves with it.
    not us. we're cutting out. got it all set up and ready to go. we'll take anyone along who is ready to go. the rest can remain with their hands around each other's throats and die in the hell they've created. we don't care if they don't and they don't seem to. we've tried to get through to them for a number of thousands of years now and they chose to ignore us. and now the time has come for us to part ways. we are not going down with their suicide scheme over whatever idiot ideals they think are worth killing and dying for. we've got ours and we're taking it out the back door.

    because we're calling out the names. anybody who maybe wants to go. anybody who maybe wants to take the chance. anybody who has had it with the dead-end life this world offers.
    hello?
    because we've been out and we came back. we've mapped it out and set it up. we've worked on it for all the time of their short history of power and greed and wars while they we're playing king of the hill.
    hello? anybody home?
    we've been busy designing and getting them to build the machine which is not a machine but a series of devices set around the world connected in a hyperdimensional network that will be activated to get us the fuck outta here. to get us home.
    we have followed our hearts. we have done this beyond the conscious knowledge of our doing it until now when some of us have been awakened to make to final preparations.
    and this is part of the final preparations. to call out the names. to reach out to those who still sleep in the dream of false reality - the reality of their world.
    hello? anybody home?
    dada dada dada.
    he lights another cigarette.
    he laughs to himself.
    what a joke.
    making it all up in his head.

    into the flesh.
    into the mind.
    into the soul.
    into the world.
    into the heaven.
    into the hell.
    waiting. waiting for it all.
    and something happens. everything is happening - at once - at twice. how many more times?
    calling out the names.
    waiting for something to happen. waiting for it all to happen. waiting. what? waiting for what to happen? what more could be happening than what is happening now? what is happening now? what is this?
    this is it. we are here now.
    into that slot one fills.
    we are sorry we are disturbing anyone. we know everyone's time is very busy with more things than one can shake a stick at.
    pigs and ponies. what?
    it's about something we are trying to remember. we are trying to remember the future. does anyone remember the future? doctor?
    the spaceships have landed.
    are we wrong? so many people would think so.
    and others may say that we are right on the money, honey.
    there's a war on. everyone is fighting in it. we had to fight too. we weren't very good at it. we didn't see the point. we lost everything but our minds.
    our minds. that is the most important thing to us. we are willing to lose everything else. how do the others continue?
    and there was something we were going to mention. we've forgotten what it was. maybe it wasn't important. maybe it was.
    it seems to us that more is going on here than meets the eye. maybe not.
 
    what? what the heck is this? what the heck is he writing about making all this shit up about nothing? who the fuck is he anyway? what does he know that no one else does as he seems to imply?
    nothing.
    poop.
    yes.
    no.
    maybe.
    42.
    yes? hello?
    and ever since the dawn of whatever we have been among them guiding them toward these days when the evolution of our kind will be born as gods.
    and trash like that.

    none of this is real or true. he's just making it up. he's always been making it up. that's what he does - make things up. alive within the imaginative mind itself. something like god or some such dada. but he made that up too. and the others fall for it. everything that he only made up. they do not question. they just accept things as they appear to be. sometimes he wonders.
    they are dull witted and stupid. they are taught to shut up and do what they are told. and we have been the ones telling them that all along. all we had to do was a few tricks we made up to dazzle them and they fell right in line and did everything they were told to.
    we told them there were gods and spirits and demons and all sorts of things out in the dark. and they believed us. we told them stories around the campfires to scare them into obedience.
    we told them we were the only ones who could protect them from all the evil in the world around them. ha!
    like we would want to.
    besides there was no evil in the world except the evil they created for themselves and the fear of evil we put into their heads.
    we made them build the temples with this fear. we had them offer sacrifices to gods we invented. we confused them and then controlled them with that confusion.
    everything they did they did for us as we commanded.
    and this might seem to some as our being selfish and cruel on our part but it really wasn't because everything we did we did for them. it doesn't matter what anyone thinks anyway because they are powerless against us. they do not even know who we are. one may trace this back and find some old crazy guy writing in a cafe. where does that get one?
    we did all this to raise them out of their pitiful state. we taught them new things. all to bring us here and now.
    this is it. this is the place and this is the time. soon. or maybe never. whatever.
    off we go. become one with the gods or fall forever into some bottomless pit of oblivion. whichever comes first.
    does anyone remember?
    does anyone feel themselves drawn into spaces undefined and unknown to those who claim knowledge in this world? does anyone feel themselves falling - rising - squeezing - oozing through the cracks in their walls?
    huh?
    because we sure as heck do. and that's sort of exactly the dada we're laying out here about. and if one has had the same cosmic tinglings that we have then one is one of the ones we are looking for. but one probably already knows that. connect.
    hello? anybody home?

    dig it.
    and we are well aware of how absurd this all must seem. and there is nothing we can do to change that. we also realize that this may seem frightening to some. there is nothing we can do about that either.
    take it as it comes.
    this is it.
    it ain't nothing else.
    while they huddle together afraid of the dark they have peopled with monsters. we come out of the dark with wild tales of how we met the monsters and defeated them. and they fell for it. little did they know we were making it up out of heads.
    god is dead.
    and so on.
    and we left clues to all this from one generation to the other. those who would be born who would figure out the secrets we left hidden. all those who would add more. until it came to us here and now and this is the place and this is the time. maybe.
    what has been designed and constructed as a series of devices all together into the machine connected around the world interdimensionally to guide us back to the heaven garden or some such like that.
    we don't actually know what the fuck we're doing. we're just following instructions like everybody else. ok?
    no one can stand against us though. first, no one knows who we are or what exactly what we're doing. and neither do we. but already their great plans of world power are turning into chaos. that is also part of the great plan - we think.
    ha!
    and no one believes any of this. no one is supposed to. but everyone has been forewarned.
    and they sleep ever onward through dreams of reality that are not real. just like they are supposed to. it makes this all the easier to pull off. their ignorance is bliss. their bliss is ignorance. let them live and die happy with their dreams. who cares about them? let them believe that their world is all that is. we know their dreams. we use their dreams to get them to do what we want them to do. we move about their dreams and push the buttons. command and control.
    our world is a womb. it is cut off from the real world around us as much as an unborn baby is cut off from this one. only certain sensations get through. we know. we have seen our birth in our own dreams and imaginings. we have written them down and transmitted them through the ages from one generation to another through systems we have created for this purpose. they are ignorant of this. they have used these systems for their own greed and glory. we don't care as long as they are maintained. we give them thoughts and ideas they believe to be their own. we taught them everything.
    with their destruction will come our birth.
    ka-boom!
    ha!

    they will no longer be needed. their reward is in this world. they have been made happy in their sleep. in their sleep they will be put to sleep forever into the oblivion of sleep. they are the chaff. we are the wheat. they will be removed from us as we are removed from ourselves.
    and dada like that.
    it's no more than a trick up a sleeve. a rabbit out of a hat. it's all done with mirrors in the mirror maze. we are the image. we are the reflection of god. what we have given we can take away. it is our world. we dare to take it.
    we dare to disobey.
    we disobey to dare.
    let them scream from their penthouse suites and from their underground bunkers. let them push all the buttons to destroy the world they want to. we know what's what and what's not. this will be the end. this will be the beginning. we could not be bought with their trinkets and gizmos. we have not lost our minds to their control schemes.
    we are wild and free.
    and everyone is wild and free if they came to realize. they are images of god in this world. the heaven garden surrounds them if they would look and see. if they open their eyes. if they open their minds.
    it is all here now.
    open.
    wild.
    free.
    we call out the names from these unseen worlds behind the walls they have constructed around themselves. peek through the cracks. find windows. find doors. it's all imaginary. come out and join us. out of one's mind. out of the minds controlled inside one's head. they taught one to obey - to sit up and beg - to roll over - to play dead.
    we live among them as strangers. we do not know them and they do not know us. they set the controls and create the conditions we all must live under. they claim to know what they are doing. we are not to question. yet we look upon the world they and their kind have created. so much pain and suffering.
    and where are they trying to get to? where else is there but here and now? yesterday is gone and tomorrow never comes.
    and we are them.
    get it?
    huh?

    we have taken their power to ourselves. we have become the demons we are possessed by. and the angels too. there is no limit to what we can and do imagine.
    we have become all that we are and always have been. we have been to the other worlds that surround us in our dreams. we make it happen as it happens. we are outside the script. we write the script.
    tick-tick-tick the clocks are running out. their time is almost up. we cannot tell anyone when. sooner or later. and we lose everything and gain everything. and we lose nothing and gain nothing. it's all the same.
    what we're basically trying to do is drive everyone out of their mind.
    nuts.
    bonkers.
    zap-dee-doodle.
    and it seems to working.
 
    but not them. they're all ok. it's everyone else around them who are insane. they hope.
    maybe yes. maybe no.
    why not?
    who cares?
    nevermind.

    they're ok. they're ok. they're ok. there's nothing wrong with either them or their world. it all runs on schedule. perfect. rhythm. smooth. easy. as comfortable as a glove. eyes closed.
    close one's eyes. take a rest. go to sleep. we'll take care of things from here on. say good-night.
    come out of oneself. come out and join us.
    we've got work to do. this is it. there's hell to raise. there's heaven to bring down. we operate in dream mode. whatever we want to do. we are wild and free in the imaginative mind.
    there's the harvest to bring in.
 
    as it all goes to hell.
    we've been there and back again. we know all about it. we know the ins and outs. we know the ups and downs. we know it like the palm of our hand. we have it in the palm of our hand.
    so the joke's on them. they kept pushing us to the edge until we went over. flipped right out of our minds. turned left at the light where there wasn't a left - or maybe not a light either. who bothers with details when one is on the run?
    on the run with no place in this world left to go to. so we had to leave it.
    and we are here now. in their world and not in their world. elsewhere. in and out of space and time. we are everywhere at once. split. through the cracks that run through their walls.
    we found the magick that was always ours. we discovered many a strange thing. and we found out who and what we are in this world. who and what we have always been. we found out why they have been afraid of us this whole while.
    we are the ones they have always cast out. we are the ones who won't obey. we are the strange ones that give them the creeps. we are the ones who actually have the power once we discovered what our power was. we laugh at last. we are the joke. we are the mirrors casting images and reflections into their world. what they see isn't always what they got.
    hello? anybody home?
    who else is out there?

    what gives? what takes? what's right? what's wrong?
    what difference does it make?
    inside/outside. why do we endlessly argue? what are we arguing about? differences? what is really the difference between whatever this is and whatever that is? all is composed of the same substance. just in different combinations. how much more we have in common. what is our common interest?
    home. we all want to go home. be home. maybe.
    but where are we now? is anyone home? is home where one has to lock one's doors? keep a gun within easy reach? wire up security systems? have police patrol the street?
    is this home?
    are we home yet?
    how about those who we've chased away into the dark? those who had to run and hide themselves away. shoot first ask no questions later. good guys. bad guys.
    what about them? how do they get home? because we are them and we wonder.
    our home is in the dark. the unknown spaces deep in the forest where anything can happen. anything at all. even the total collapse of their entire world civilization. that can happen out in the deep dark spaces of the forest.
    how does it happen? we don't know. it just does. we see it very clearly in our imaginative minds. we dance with it in our wild and free imaginations out in the deep dark spaces of the forest.
    the forest surrounds them. we surround them in the forest. the forest is our home. they drove us out into the forest. we are their orphan children. their bastard mutant outcast children left to die in the forest. cut off from their world.
    they do not know the forest and all it holds. they just clear it out wherever they can and build their walls against what remained. the psychic forest. the forest grows wild and free everywhere. one may find it everywhere if one knows what to look for and how to look for it - even in the middle of the city.
    the forest is all that they fear. it is all they cannot control.
    we are the changeling children. we've been snatched by the forest and all the forest holds. snatched in our minds. we were replaced. we were different.
    we remembered our true names. not the names they gave us to suit their purpose. those names meant nothing to us. we have forgotten them. we know different names called out from the forest. we have followed those names. we were led back deeper and deeper until we lost our way. until we were home.
    wait - is anyone taking this seriously? are we? what are we writing about anyway?
    hello? anybody home?
    yes - that was it. home.
    who are we?
    we are them.
    who is anyone? are they one of us? everyone is one of us as one of them.
    where does one go to get home? all physical, social, economic, political and spiritual space is taken over by one of their groups or another in this grand unconscious conspiracy of power, greed and control.
    what a drag.
    so we had to get away. we had to get out of this world. we had to go out of our minds that are controlled by this world. polluted by conditioned thoughts and behavior patterns both conforming and reactive as two sides in the maze of mirrors being the same and opposite. all monkey see and monkey do and monkey see and monkey don't do dada. ha! what a joke.
    while they're all hung up on that trip of who's right and who's wrong and settling it with whoever has the biggest stick or the most sticks or whatever we slipped down straight up the middle. we became the mirrors. we reflected everything.
    does anyone see us at all? it's ok. no one is supposed to. we're invisible. they judge the surface. they question nothing around them. what they see is what they get. and it is so easy to hide ourselves among them. we could be anyone anywhere at anytime. we could be someone one tells one's secrets to.
    hello? anybody home?
    we are at home everywhere. we make ourselves at home anywhere we land. we adapt to whatever is expected of us. we put on the appearance of being one of them. who are we really?
    the changelings. the mutant strain in the gene pool matrix mix and match. we pop up in every generation to keep them on their toes. keep them guessing. keep them from closing everything down tight. we are the ones no one knows what to do with. we don't know what to do with ourselves. they leave us to find our own way since we cannot fit into the rigid structure of walls they need to protect themselves against the unknown. the chance. the way of life.
 
    this is what is written. this is what is written as one reads it. is what is written the same as what is read? should it be the same? if not, which is which? is what is written how it should be or what is read how it should be? or it is the relationship between what is written and what is read what it should be?
    what secrets are reveled? what secrets are kept and hinted at? what secrets aren't even mentioned at all? what secrets are left to be understood as they are? are there any secrets?
    what is secret? can it be known? if it is known is it still a secret? what is the point of it being a secret?
    dada - deliberate irrationality.
    what?
    to know this is not to know it. to reach dada-ananda - deliberate irrationality - bliss.
    huh?
 
    we are strangers in this land - in this world. we belong to the forest - the wilderness. we are pronounced as evil and wicked and sick and criminal. we are them anywhere that operates in a us versus them philosophical mentality.
    we do not care what the others call themselves or who they think they are. we do not belong to any group large or small. we do not care what they call us by their many names they have for those they despise. it means nothing. whatever name they identify us as it is the name of the enemy. it is the name of them. the other to the others.
    it's a weird game they play that they themselves do not seem to know or be aware that it involves many dangers. the main danger being self-destruction.
    they are going nowhere.
    we are already nowhere.
    it's somewhere between this and that in the flickering on/off moment of now. this is the place and this is the time. or is it elsewhere/when? over the hills and far away? or right around the next corner?
    home. no place like home. home is where the heart is. follow one's heart. where does it lead? to the land of milk and honey where one has to offer it as sacrifice for the price of admission? is this world one's home?
    it sure ain't ours.
    we run wild and free in the deep dark forest - even if it's only in our heads. we do not lead. we do not follow. watch the parking meters. hello?
    and where does it come from and where does it go?

    and as gottog weeps for his people who have been taken from him and forced to serve his sister kottog.
    the clouds rain gray into the day. the people slosh off to the offices and factories. this is the place and this is the time.
    when he lies down in his bed deep under the earth in the twists and turns of caverns painted with dancing animals long long ago in memory.
    the wheel turning one way and then the other and both ways at once. pendulum. for every action there is an equal and opposite reaction. what goes down must come up. forever in one moment.
    the moment gottok lies down in his bed to rest and weep. he struggles against hope - against doubt. trying to find the balance between. toss and turn. no sleep again.
    while kottog laughs. master of this world. it is she who taught her followers to build walls against the forest where gottok's followers live.

    gottok is the twin brother of kottog. kottog is the twin sister of gottok. as their names imply they are the same yet opposite. they came from the same womb but they were conceived apart.
    the womb is the eternal moment and the forever point of all space and time.
    their conception occurred in spacetime as the spacetime is divided one point from another and one moment from another. real space. real time. out of the imagination and into reality. immortal into mortal.
    gottok was the first to be born. this is known. but kottog argues that it was her who was conceived first. this is unknown. gottok would rather drop the whole issue. gottok and kottog are the two children of the one. one divided into opposites. the one of alpha and omega - for what is the difference between beginning and end?
    this is the dilemma of creation. on/off. this/that. the struggle of the two and many to become one again while also maintaining each separate identity. split images in the maze of mirrors.
    so gottok and kottog were opposed to one another from the beginning. gottok took after alpha and as such was always seeking beginning. and as such he also could never get around to finishing anything he started. kottog always sought completion taking after omega. she would finish what she never started . she tried to always bring things to a conclusion no matter what that conclusion was.
    gottok was chaos.
    kottog was order.
    does this have any meaning? how simple is it? how complex?
 
    gottok loved his sister and he knew or perhaps he merely hoped she loved him too. she would never admit it if she did. she expressed if not hatred then anger toward him and his people who were always in her mind leaving things a mess she and her followers needed to fix up and set right. too fixed and too set was gottok's opinion though he had to admit she did have a point. without her nothing would ever get done. yet she seemed to want to finish everything whether it was ready or not. and there was always something he would want to begin again. this was as it should be - constant creation forever.
    creation for what? kottog would ask him. creation for what purpose? toward what end? how much had been created to flounder on its own with no direction, no goal? what is that but reckless cruelty?
    and this would go on between them and his people and her followers. arguments and wars and revolts and rebellions. there never seemed to be a resolution or a point where and when they would agree.
    gottok would not stop beginning. kottog would not stop ending.
    gottok lay beneath the earth below where the tree roots would reach for water and nourishment and he wept for his people who suffered above in the world controlled by his sister kottog and her followers.
    kottog stood on a mountain tops and laughed. yet her laughter wasn't full. it was held back by a certain amount of discomfort at what she saw around her.
    the full glory of ending and completion was close and nearby. the war was almost over. it was over. she and her followers ruled the world. what was occurring now was a mop up operation. cleaning up the mess left by gottok wherever he had gone off to and his people who never did anything right. who were more concerned with their selfish pleasures wild and uncontrolled that causes so much misery and suffering. his people were lost and confused. she felt anger toward him. he had spurred them on and on and then deserted them. left them to her to now take care of. and in such a state many of them were left. useless for any worthwhile task. unable to concentrate on anything for more than a little while before they were distracted by something else. whatever flew by. helter skelter.
    kottog felt disturbed by this and what she felt she had to do to resolve it - to finish it. to brings things into order. it haunted her in this time when she should be happy now that she was in control of the world.
    she couldn't quite place what the source of it was. that gottok was the source she was sure of. but of what? where was he? what was he up to? she called him and he would not answer. why not?
    she really didn't want it to end this way. she felt though that she had no choice. what else could she do? she had to end it and there was only one way to do that. total shutdown. everything in its place. finished. done. her masterpiece.
    yet there were always details that wouldn't come together. things kept popping up out of nowhere. there were those who refused to give up their belief that gottok would come back and save them. they refused to listen to reason. they were constantly creating new problems.
    what to do with them?
    she thought of their parents alpha and omega. how did they live in harmony? why couldn't she and gottok do so? she did not understand.
    she wished gottok would come to her - talk to her again. but she had angered him and been angered by him. he had left the world. left it to her. had he given up? surrendered? what?
    she did not know.
    at the time of her glory, she had doubts.
 
    and gottok still tossed and turned. he wanted to sleep but could not. he had done what all he could do for his people. and he had to leave them. he could do no more. he went back down into the caverns of memory to sleep. to forget. what else could he do?
    begin again? begin what? perhaps his sister was right and he did screw everything up and left it a disorganized mess. perhaps. what to do?
    he wished omega would come to him to let him sleep and never wake up. alpha would only let him sleep to rest - rest to fight again. to challenge his sister once more. to return to the battlefield. to begin again. it was never over. his people wanted him to return. he knew this. he could not desert them. he rested.
 
    the missiles are ever-ready. poised and erect. very strange.
    in a moment's notice. a single unquestioned command. this is the power and the glory. this is the god everlasting.
    all ready to conceive destruction.
    all ready to give birth.
 
    where does it begin? where does it end? what is the alpha/omega but each moment as each moment is one moment eternal as now?
    yet our clocks deny this eternal moment. our clocks that divide and count out the moment into theoretical separate units of time. a time for this. a time for that. how funny. like there is a difference between this and that.
    it is it. there is nothing but it. if something isn't it then what is it?
    huh?
    one must become it. one must refuse to divide oneself from it or allow oneself to be divided from it.
    we have divided ourselves from it. we have divided the points in space. we have divided the moments in time. all is here. all is now. all is it. it is all there is. all space is here. all time is now. where else or when else can it be?
    it is when we divide ourselves from it that we become confused and lost. yet this is our nature to do so. it is within the very language that we use and think with. how can it describe anything else?
    we do not know what it is. our language keeps us from knowing. our language is divided and keeps us divided. how can it describe what is undivided and infinite?
 
    this is nothing new. this has been known for all of our history - almost. maybe more. it has been written about before. endlessly.
    hello?
    what?
    and here we are again. we have been here before. how long? where? when?
    we attempt to write down here what we know or perhaps only imagine that we know.
    there is no proof for any of it.
    who the fuck needs proof?

    toward somewhere. toward a goal that is the journey itself. on and on. through it all.
    space/time unfolds and refolds over and over kaleidoscope rhythm patterns never quite the same.
    yet we monotone our experience. we seek an everlasting god who is unchanging. we seek death.

    gottok stood in a open field watching the sun rise over distant mountains. he was to meet his sister here by arrangement to talk about many things unsettled between them.
    she arrived in a multicolored flying saucer. she was always the one for dramatics. she came down the ramp with a guard following behind her.
    hello, dear brother, she said.
    hello, sister, he replied. do you really need a guard?
    i never know what you might be up to.
    nor i with you .
    you come alone? i could kidnap you and this all would be over.
    i doubt that. my people would continue.
    not if i had you killed.
    you cannot kill me anymore than i can kill you.
    this is true. it's just a thought.
    think again.
    i'm always thinking, dear brother.
    so why are we here?
    i thought you could tell me.
    it was your idea.
    then why did you accept?
    gottok squatted and drew a design in the dirt, i was hoping we could end this war between us. that is my usual reason for meeting with you.
    not this again, kottog spun in a circle and stopped facing him again. it's not that easy. i see no reason for there to be war between us either except you ask for too much. you ask for liberties for your people i cannot agree to grant. what do any of them actually do? what do they contribute? nothing. they just create a mess that others have to clean up.
    they create. that's what they do. what do your followers do? they control. and usually through brutality. they stifle the spirit of life and growth. they too often resort to greed. they want everything their way or no way at all. all their organizations are designed for those who manage to climb their way to the top.
    some are born to lead. others to be led.
    yes, it is true that there are those who are gifted with the ability to manage the affairs of the community better than others who also have their own gifts. yet they too easily forget to what purpose they are managing what. they lose their vision. they become filled with pride and leadership becomes the end rather than the means.
    i will not change my mind, gottok. i will not permit your people to wander any which way they please and contribute nothing to the common good.
    you know that is not the case. they hardly contribute nothing. without their free creativity the world your followers construct is a sterile lifeless wasteland.
    my followers provide the ways and means to survive. everyone does their part to form a collective whole that gives everyone involved what they need and what they want.
    and some need and want more than others.
    and what's wrong with that? if they are willing to work for it they can have whatever there is to be had. what you want for your people amounts to nothing more than handouts.
    no, kottog, not handouts. payments for services rendered. a poet, a painter, a singer, a dancer and the like have much to offer and you force them to slave in factories that produce death thrash owned by greedy pigs who are the ones truly receiving handouts. they do nothing but count money.
    ah yes, money, terrible dirty money. money you want for your so-called artists who are just bums by another name.
    that's not what i want. money is nothing. it's what it represents - time and energy. that's what i ask for.
    well, whatever. no. my answer is still and always will be no. i am at the point of completion of a thousand years struggle - even longer than that - to bring this world into order. i know you think me evil for doing so but you are wrong. and i will not tolerate your people's unco-operative and even destructive way of life. there is room for them in this world but not to do as they please at the expense of those whose hard work make it all possible. this discussion is over. i thought it might have turned out different. find your own world to let your people run around in as free as they like. this one is mine. good-bye.
    and she turned and walked up the ramp.
    gottok stood and said after her, if this is your final answer then let it be so. i have tried for as long as i can remember to work out a compromise with you but you want it all just as your followers do. i pity you and them both. your are creating a world of death. you strive toward the stagnant. we give your world life. but we will find another. i have not been as idle as you may have imagined. and when we pull out you will realize just how much we do contribute when it is gone. we are the spark and the life. it is true we are somewhat disorganized and do get confused with what we are doing but even that works for us as it is part of the process that keeps it all going more than you realize. your total world order will come to a dead stop without us. and what then? so, good-bye to you too.
    kottog continued up the ramp which slid closed behind her and the flying saucer took off.
    gottok walked away.

    and as we turn away from this world. as we turn our perception to an angle contrary to others we see something all come alive around us in the same location and moment we are in here and now.
    how strange. it's all here and now. it's not someplace far away in either space or time.
    the forest. the heaven garden. the original world as it was. it's always surrounding us anywhere and everywhere we go. it is being.
    turn one's mind away and look again from the other side. what does one see?
    is it only imagination as the others suggest? is it a symptom our our illness - of our being mad? if it is, don't give us the cure. leave us where and when our hearts are wild and free.
    dancing in the field of flags. alive as life itself. and alive in each flashing moment as each moment is the one moment eternally now.
    all else falls away like chaff. we fall away from ourselves as chaff. it's a joke. but it's discovering the nature of the joke that's the trick.
    to laugh last. to laugh at it all. to see all their ways of death and destruction pursuing their lust for power and control and to have one big laugh at it all.
    these clowns would believe themselves to be gods on earth. they think they have command over things. don't they see how easily that is taken away?
    off away away with them and their dirty world.
    we float away on an endless sea. back to the here and now. our tiny island in the eye of a storm on an otherwise calm sea. we've let go of their world. the faces grimaced in angst. the clutched tight bodies scampering here and there.
    either one gets it or not.
    either one is here and now or not.
 
    they would laugh at us if we told them that they have lost their souls. how funny a thing. so archaic an idea. just a word maybe poets still use.
    the eternal soul.
    is that a joke?
    what is eternal? when does it begin? when does it end?
    is it now?
    is it forever now?
    this moment?
    could it be?
    maybe.
    maybe not.
    yes/no.

    we're out to lunch. we got off the elevator before it reached the top floor. we weren't playing with a full deck anyway and we lost any number of marbles along the way.
    hello?
    it's all a big fat ugly joke and the trick is to not have the joke be on oneself.
    how much longer is one gonna play the fool?
    hello?
    and all the work and extra hours and promises made. the raise. the desk job. the bigger desk. the corner office. the key to the executive washroom. membership to the club.
    and the flashing images of desire on tv and everywhere else.
    the voice and the illusions of seduction.
    keep playing the fool.
    hello?

    coming down out of another world sideways making a left at the light where there is no left and there is no light.
    dancing along the treetops dazzled by moonlight. get away from this dead world.
    we look into their eyes as we pass them on the street. we are watching for signs of life.
    we are leaving. in many ways we have left already. the doors are open for us all. anyone can find them. they're each in the back of our heads. chewing softly. one knows where that is though one is frightened.
    and time turning itself around into different shapes of space. there is one world and there is another divided from itself. a world surrounding itself with walls dividing.
    this is the world created by the rationalogic mind. divided. rationed. no room for error.
    error? has something gone wrong? what can go wrong in a perfect universe? a universe in harmonic balance. could it be an error in our understanding? when we do not understand something it must be in error. we want the sun to come out when it is raining so something must be in error. and we play god and try to correct all the errors that we see because it doesn't match what we see in our heads.
    it's all in our heads.
 
    time that twists itself through space to create a world in dreamtime discovering itself again. and we are part of that discovery. we have hidden ourselves here and must discover ourselves and find the way out through the how and why process of it.
    it seems so absurd. it seems that way because we have forgotten.
 
    the dada-ananda walks alone through the forest. the dada-ananda dances in the field of flags. something very near and somehow almost distant. a feeling of being in-between space and time.
    the words fail. they cannot grip onto what is not there in terms they are meant to describe. words must always be turned and stretched at angles to reach into this mind.
    the dada-ananda has chosen to forget such things. the dada-ananda swims upstream. it is spoken that the dada-ananda's brain is split on the very edge of reality. who looks into all worlds of perception.
    the dada-ananda is the glue that is unglued. ha! fancy that. fancy anything one will at all the dancing with the wind in the field of flags. does one see anything? does one see nothing?
    it is also spoken that the dada-ananda is the point at which the wires cross and spark in short circuit that blows the fuse and the lights go out.
    the dada-ananda is the divided mind between this and that.

    hats fit onto heads and heads fit into hats. find a hat that fits onto one's head and one's head fits into.
    change hats often. as one's head changes so should one's hat. one should not confine one's head to the space of one particular hat though changing hats too often can be something to avoid also.
    whatever turns one on. whatever one feels comfortable with. if it fits, wear it. this applies to one's shoes also. it applies to anything.

    also as the dada-ananda was pondering various relationships in regards to their placement of the vegetables in the produce department of a local supermarket and even the idea and concept of the supermarket itself that the dada-ananda fell into a deep silence.
    those who were with the dada-ananda at this time fell silent as well except for a few noisy yapsters who always seemed to orbit things of this sort with little respect or understanding of the vibrational nature of the event though this too lent itself to a meaningful contrast for those who could perceive it. but no one was able to fall into the silence as deep as the dada-ananda being imaginary was able to reach the bottom of the bottomless pit which in fact the dada-ananda is the bottom of the bottomless pit.
    the dada-ananda laughed and picked up and took a bite out of a red onion and left post haste.

    the simple and the complex. the common everyday and the universal cosmic events all turning at once on a series of cause and effect wheels that are interchangeable in relationship.
    one becomes the other and both become one undivided yet still remaining separate pieces working together.
    puzzle pieces interlocking into their own place.

    and it is not too widely known nor understood that the dada-ananda accepted jesus christ as a personal savior. yes/no.
    who knows this?
    who understands this?
    and the dada-ananda demands nothing nor expects anything. the dada-ananda is the worst sinner alive or dead.
    the dada-ananda is already burning in the fires of hell and eternal damnation. there is no hope for the dada-ananda.
    and this is nobody's business but the dada-ananda's and jesus christ himself. who else is to judge? who else is to utter a word for or against? it becomes mere noise. it becomes nothing more than the quacking of ducks.
    no one knows what this personal relationship is between the dada-ananda and jesus christ. no one but themselves.
    they exist in the same state of being - imaginary. there is no hard factual evidence for either existing beyond that except in stories that are told about the two of them. but stories are told about many things.
    jesus christ walks on water.
    the dada-ananda walks on thin ice.
    who is who?
    which is which?

    the dada-ananda catches snowflakes and every two are the same. the division of the universe. action and reaction were sitting on a fence gazing out the window. a fly flies by. what?
    how absurd. and there was the dada-ananda dancing on the head of a pin. the field of flags on the head of a pin. heaven and hell on the head of a pin. the imaginary city on the head of a pin. a pin between the teeth of a seamstress for a ballet troupe touring across this great land of ours.
    all sorts of things on the head of a pin. can one imagine? all sorts of heads of all sorts of pins.
    and here we are. we write and maybe someone else reads. we are connected to something whatever it might be and who knows what? from one brain to another. out of our minds.
    ah yes, if we could live in that little dream bubble together on the head of a pin. if it could be that easy. but we get a certain amount of satisfaction and pleasure from fighting with one another.
    good guys and bad guys and on and on. it's all part of the game and it's all kinda fun. if it wasn't we wouldn't do it, would we?
    maybe yes. maybe no.
    who knows?
    who cares?
 
    explore the wilderness. the forest of the original world. where and when does it remain?
    and all turns to dust. for want of a nail.
    chaos and order dance in the field of flags. the field of flags is in the heart of the imaginary city. the imaginary city is in the heart of our minds. the heart of our minds is on the head of a pin.
    or all something like that.
    and wait for it. or go for it. or dance with it. the time between. make it up as one goes along. flux and flow and all that business.
    don't we want the same things basically? or not? what is it they hide behind locked doors that they think we are after? what do they possess that is so valuable that they set up this kill or be killed situation between us? we have no desire to kill them. but they would kill us no questions asked. why? what for?
    we don't get it.
    we have nothing we are trying to hide and keep away from them. all they would have to do is ask and if we had it we would give it to them. unless they stole it.

    in flash. a momentary experience of a moment. time eternal in a blink. what?
    hello? hello?
    anybody home?
    yes - it's still us again.
    hello?
    and as water cascades always forever and not forever at all. now one sees it. now one sees it again.
    yet somewhere in sometime it comes and goes as though it were nothing at all.
    a gift of time. a sense of time. drawn out of time as through a secret door kidnapped into another existence that may not even be existence at all. or maybe...
    and nevermind that. nevermind anything. one need not think of such things. it doesn't pay the rent. it doesn't put food on the table.
    remember who one thinks one is. remember the sights and sounds and smells and tastes and touch of your experience of your reality. what?
    something turns in the darkness surrounding. one cannot see it but one feels it at once comforting and frightening.
    yes - it is rather absurd and pointless, isn't it? but someone's got to deal with this dada. no one else is. so we've taken it on. we got nothing else to do. we amuse ourselves and perhaps no one else but ourselves with the absurdity of it.
    a joke.
    a big fat hairy joke.
    all heaven and hell and everything in-between - nothing but a joke. and the funniest thing is the people trembling in their boots about it all.
    they should be laughing.
    we're laughing. laughing out of our minds.
    is one laughing too?
    we watch them and see no sign that they are the least bit amused by anything at all.
    we know the ways and means of their world. we know why they lock their doors at night. we know why they build mega-death weapon systems. we know why they cannot look at themselves in the mirror and see themselves as they really are.
    does one know this too?
    does one know what one does not know? that's the real trick. anyone and everyone knows what they know. that's easy. but knowing what one doesn't know, that's a whole other trip. to be the master of one's own ignorance. to know the depths of the empty spaces in one's own mind. to be able to look into them without fear.
    that's the trick.
    that's the joke.
    the monsters sing and dance in one's closets.
    there is laughter under the bed.
    who goes there?
    hello? anybody home?
 
    and wherever it goes. and as it falls.
    rising above from where it begins again. disruptive thought except as thoughts are thought to be disruptive. thinking. what goal do we have in mind? as structure becomes the only source of wisdom.
    we follow ourselves into ourselves and out again circling up behind our image in the mirror looking into our own eyes looking back from some other image of ourselves that is the representation of ourselves in this moment wondering.
    who are we this time? losing self and identity. and who is born again without a thought of loss at who is left behind to gaze intently into mirrors?
 
    the needle straight flame darkened by a camel's eye.
    liquid teeth.
    and what mere words suppose any chance at truth?
    raining.
    lay awake untouched by this moment happening sometime - maybe tomorrow.
    when we choose to see a star that falls.
    when we choose to turn away from our direction to see a passing cloud.
    busy.
    a moment we choose to experience. alive and radiant becoming a chosen moment.
    a fever again. a quick heart. a choice.
    being whatever may become of something else. maybe we saw our choice then. maybe alive living.
    a seashell turn.
    a cross-eyed rainbow dancing by itself.
 
    a poem of the questionable.
    questions without answers. why are there no answers? who asks the questions? maybe that's the question. who asks the questions and who doesn't. and who makes up the answers.
    perhaps we are nasty evil people. perhaps we are the enemy. perhaps we are even demons here to trick one into our purpose. does one know? what does one know?
    or maybe we are regular sort of kind of people. maybe we are just like oneself.
    all we know is that most people think we are somehow or another different from them. that's why we are them. it does make sense in a twisted sort of way.
    tricks of the trade.
    guesswork.
    miles and miles of files.
    forbidden fruit. the knowledge of good and evil. yummy.
    and all the lies we are told and those we tell ourselves. gazing out the window.
    this is what we have become. evolution.
    the lockstep march of the human race. everyone marching off the end of a cliff.
    not us. how about oneself? when it all goes is one going to go with it?
    we aren't. we know a way out. it involves a few tricks up our sleeve pulling rabbits out of hats.
    what is to come? what are the possibilities. we know a few.
    does one know anything about the other worlds that surround us? dimensions of reality with a twist and a turn of the mind one can get to. they are all here and now. that is where we come from.
    or do we? does one think one knows? does one think we know?
    what?

    and one time gottok sat gathered with his people in a grove of trees in a valley. they knew kottog was watching them. kottog and her followers always watched them especially when they were gathered together in one place.
    this didn't happen very often. they were very rarely that organized. these times happened more by chance than not.
    whereas and wherefore kottog and her followers were very extremely organized. they thrived on organization. they prided themselves on this. they would get together and march in big parades just to celebrate how organized they were.
    and gottok spoke to his people as they spoke among themselves reveling secrets about his plan to take them all from this world into another.
    he walked among them and told them how this was to be done and how to prepare themselves for it.
    he knew what designs and plans kottog had for this world she and her followers controlled. he knew of their ultimate plan. the whole world would come under control of one organizing system. all would be unified and set into order.
    and there would be no room for any of gottok's people. they would be weeded out wherever they settled.
    and they were powerless to do anything to stop this. kottog and her followers held all the power in this world. that was the sole purpose of their existence - power.
    it took power to hold back the chaotic expression of creation. and this was their aim. they feared anything out of their control. to them and their world of order this could not be tolerated.
    but creativity cannot be held back. the more it was controlled the more it got out of control. it was kottog and her followers who attempted to divide chaos from order. gottok and his people knew this couldn't be done.
    they knew chaos came from order and order from chaos. the two each are defined by the existence of the other.
    and it was this that was the war between them. and it was this that caused so much suffering.
    gottok could not win. he could not convince his sister that if the two of them co-operated that they could create a paradise.
    so it was that gottok prepared the way for his people to move to another world where they could be wild and free. where their hearts would sing forever in the joy of creation.
    kottog and her followers were headed for destruction one way or another. this would be the only way they could control everything.
    kottog blamed gottok and his people for everything that went wrong. she would see what happened when they were gone. who would she blame then? gottok knew that this process was already a part of creation, that perfection was something that could be striven for but never attained except in death. the perfection of death.

    and where is the dada-ananda? hello? a-buzzing in the head. in one ear and out the other. hello?
    the dada-ananda stood on the edge of a pond feeding the ducks.

    hello?
    dada-ananda, where are you?
    dada-ananda, what are the strange things you do?
    hello?
    dada-ananda, we look for you all day.
    dada-ananda, just to hear the wonderful things you say.
    hello?
    anybody home?