a thought.

we must learn to distinguish between dreams and illusions.

Of all the things that piss me off in the world, is a loudmouth when I am trying to concentrate (Disclaimer: This does not by any means mean I am exempt from occupying that hateful position) or a shifty person constantly disturbing my peripheral vision, and I stare at them with all that concentrated hate, and hope they see me and read into me. Cartoons would show daggers busting out of my eyes.

Here's the catch. Today, as I was sending waves of hate to this loud mouthed (her voice was itchy) human being as she babbled and babbled and babbled on and on about someones virtues and defects, I thought to myself (on one occasion when her eyes actually seemed set on mine) whether she might remember me in her future as the one who stared at her with so much hate.

You know, the kind of situation when you are 30 years old and you think back on your twenties and say, "Hey! remember that time that mexican guy stared at me with so much hate?" You might ask how this thought came about... Well, as she babbled like a turkey, I thought to myself whether she'd be babbling thus in ten years, and what a waste that would be for everyone having to bear with it. I thought about her children, and how it would corrupt their perception of the world to come to think that all mothers babble so. How her friends would babble like she did and how they would have little babbling parties where they would talk about the virtues and defects of decent, respectful human beings. In short, I felt sorry for much of what would happen in the universe as this creature grew up unchanged.

And when I do what she does, to call someone's particular attention, I hope the world accepts my prescribed apologies.

Ego-12:14pm Saturday, Jun 30

Ego mi absolvo.

Ego mi absolvo.

Ego mi absolvo.

Three dot, space dash zoom

comma word dot dot dot

f

a

l

l

.

.

.

splat flat flatter gun

laser tazer type pity

olive liver hue embalmed

I am sound

not meaning.

sound.

not meaning.

psychodelic dystrophy

tropical fall

desiduous fall

mysterious fall

splat.

i am sound,

not meaning.

egg yolk

bull yoke

sleeping yak

burning oak.

fluffy daffy duck

quacks in quizzical fashion

fashions an aluminum knife

and stabs donald on account of

discrimination

intimidation and

baseless humilliation.

I've oft stargazed long nights

while cicadas rolled drums in the blackness

I then travelled a million light years away,

flew that way, towards those stars I gazed

like a fly into an electric lamp,

except I disappeared, or rather

fused into its essence, and combusted

to be seen solely by souls in the desert

and souls at sea, and souls tired of cities

who sought shelter within the mountain green.

I am sound.

not meaning.

was meant to be meaningless

with this mind that perceives

dot dot dot

its self from above

dot dot dot

and its self from below

dot dot dot

I should have been an ant or a cicada

. . .