Deolation Sermon vol. 4: Nexus Variants

Break

Sit in simplicity behind the freedom of choice as this is not where you could be, but are anyway to bide time inside the idea of the self determination you had hoped to see. Layering slowly a CV longer than psychological dependency on being more than a database key floating on magnetic tapes hundreds mile away in bunkers designed to survive longer than this race. Wouldn’t you want a little more?

If blasphemously asking the questions: “what else?” is your motto, maybe you’re willing to be happy with what is after all. To understand the fundamental alterations of the code we assumed was cracked, but experimentation was never granted ethical continuity. Bless your heart child, you’ve seen hell, and its not for you, come see where the confusion might lead you.
Smell mornings of regret, as sleep is lacked are supplemented without forcing tension as caffeine drips are simpler, with the roasted mud comfort of diuretic reminders of chemical dependencies. Don’t feel bad, coffee is the best, external dependencies are easily held onto hands of comforting high voltage charge or neurotransmitters explosions attempting to hold true through panicking from wasting civilized energies.
To commutes riding a pretentiousness of having what others seem to lack, from belief that self determination was the qualifying factor to lifetimes lived for the lives of others. Sitting behind desks, and gossiping for simplicity of happiness through grape vines office IM clients, with giant emoji lists, giving those permissions to user to end the lack of emotional banality in email exchange.
Ask silently if revisionist history is the worst thing as any dream of a better world, cause it is now the noose around another’s neck as the ones being lived is better than the next person’s so why mess with a formulation of tried and true financial attributes. Probably because alarms have been going off so long, that the background dullness of its urgency bleeds into those still willing to accept the pain all together without knowing what to expect. Yet who is anyone to judge the criterion by which everyone was given a leg up or a knuckle dusted punch to the gut, asking the truly pointless question of assigning worth to what might actually be something.
You’re humans goddammit, a thousand million pardons for taking the All Mighty’s name in vain, yet, where are you lost to normalcies indelibly silent rage. Where times commodity is valued in quantum conservatism holding onto silence for the worthless tendencies of the bureaucracies lived and feared, tell us how you fear the unknown.
How do you fear anything that isn’t made of dust and bone, as entropy opens and closes the infinite doors of a trillion star bits hemming existing through the patchwork sense of belonging grounded in impressing ones self. Hypocrisy is a powerful entity that leans into hopes of being free with the caveat of presumed esteem. Fall off your equestrian dreams, move the fuck away from them, look at them, will they survive the apocalypse? Pass your happiness test of having enough, feeling fulfilled by understanding that one is a symbol, like two, that multiplied zeros and quantifiable memories are only good enough to feed baseless shrewd multinational think tanks designed wholly by one or two hoping you’ll fixate the wavelengths of cones and rods upon their constructed stars of undeliverable expectation.
Feel the desolation, the constant obliteration of the fury of life inside the venter or cardiac space, assimilating black thoughts fed from tried methods of words built go poke holes in truths one should always know. Flail in the pity of not knowing that you’re okay, things might be bad but their freedom to be so is a wonderful thing, tis the :
Way of the world
The bliss of being
The furthest from untruths
Sense filled consummation
Entropy of random reality
Everything in its right place
Forgiveness in a glace to the Inconsistencies of blindness
Falling into time crossed tempos lost to past ages
Reverberations bouncing slowly to key into melodies of the soul

They know go well to believe anything will ever change, since change is an impossibility to fit the butt hurt captains of enterprise data siege. Same way entertainment knows better than itself to ensure trust amongst the groups of millions or billions take the plunge into one minds manipulated derricks drilling to the deep crust, extracting primal fluids to garner loyal vestiges hoping to fill us all up. Isometric viewing angles observing the rat race to the cyclical tunnels dug into by tell tale heart strings tugged in sensory freedom, afraid to admit any wrong.
This will do maybe one good thing, remind a fool where they might be, right now in front of a keyboard as Gods breathe fills me, expanding side by side with the version who’d want to be somebody happy in helping others achieve a simple dream of goals lived within this existence. But where to begin?
A Decision, to admit that forgiveness is where it will begin, as the Nexus of of old absorbs everything there once was in the high tide of given opportunity.
Take not the words of a madman, lost in the throws of misrepresented love in historical hope for a better tomorrow, grounded in understanding of the majesty of playing fair. Believe not words as they flow quickly upon paper and data bits, they mean not to guide but shepherd your thoughts away from believing everything is law. Swim in the bliss of uncharted waters, unafraid of the lessons not learned from mistakes currents swaying on all sides.
Start somewhere, somewhere terrible, is still somewhere, placing steps on stepping stones of metaphors covered in moss of interpretation, you will slip and fall, but it will not end, put on you’re shoes just keep walking, as mud covered and slimy it might all seem.
Heed no warnings told through the filter of tomorrow, yesterday is so far away, and today is nearly gone, Hoyle road looking for enlightenment.

Go. In Peace.

Waves

Sunday afternoon dining table workstations
trying to sort through imagination
developing a shitty application
to increase visibility.

Trying to remember whether or not I’ve got my macros
my muscles ache from trying be tamed again
supplements encroaching on need based
maybe I’ll just eat eggs all day.

Slush puddle game strong with it bottomless lakes sprawling the dense driveways
shoveling won’t do shit but disprove the theory that those boots waterproof
maybe you should have just been okay with letting them melt and evaporate
or maybe you just had nothing better to do, pushing it ain’t doing shit.

Procrastinating myself into a stupor
test scripts screaming out: passed
but really i don’t know it
cause they all failing.

Appreciating sunlight after snow drifts falling and crawling across highway nights
wasn’t trying to over take that ambulance that was driving all together too slow
but snow fell faster than my tires could tell them they aren’t new no more
Sixty miles through that shit, and all I let myself have; fries.

French spy parodies bringing a semblance of sanity back into my life
we’re all a little ridiculous, but our delusions are our own
I know the world won’t accept such things readily
but they gave him an Oscar a few years later.

Angst ridden pits of anxiety and perplexed conscious insufficiency readily inside
we take steps to over ride them, sometimes lie, sometimes getting really high
but most days all it takes is a couple breaths and few notes from Rubab
i’ll play them indefinitely, someday they’ll make sense again.

The slow hum of the organ plugging away, i still can understand how to play
concussed with pulsating theories about how i should spend my days
the low echo of the reverb reminded me that today won’t stay
while tomorrow and yesterday are already gone.

Happiness reminds the occasional thought, the ones refused by time and memory
the home movies repeatedly projected behind my visual cortex indefinitely
soundtracks ruled by the shuffle button iTunes never really figured out
maybe its okay I’m this way, maybe I won’t hurt anyone else.

Sunlight creeping onto this carbon catastrophe
they really should figure out all this glare
but I’m no engineer, they’re smarter
Dammit they have one track minds

Remind me again Words, why I Do this to myself
set arbitrarily out to prove something wrong
looking for the idea that no one knew
but really it was me the whole time.

Narcissism creeps along the hallowed line of self evidence of heart and mind
I’m no spiritual teacher, but I see the thoughts creep as I’ve fallen behind
lost the spark to remind the entire system, lost time it couldn’t wait to die
maybe one day it’ll be easier, or it’ll be the same, i don’t know

Finger tips and cuticles covered in crusty scabs the even crabs won’t hold down
no matter what I do I’m reminded of the idea that I am never completely there
sometimes I let the parasympathetic take over and rule for a little bit
gently reminding me that I just live in this body its got rules too.

Physical world reminding me that spirit stronger than matter
caring a little bit more about doing the best that can be
the best is what it is but it ain’t a standard i can set
I’m talking mad, trying to convince myself second is OK.

Waves oscillating as they always will telling my mind that even writing takes time
these text documents fill them selves with macros and unsolicited data sets
readying ourselves for the truth of the matter as it would  matter to us
it not as obvious as it seems, sometimes i just want to flat line.

Sit up straight they’ll tell you to command the respect of gentleman
of men with more power and stature and financial standing than you
breathing the words they’ll regurgitate condescendingly back
but i’m just sitting here sequencing symphonies in my head.

Some day I’ll remember why I memorize the numbers in my head
maybe they’ll tell me the meaning of life one day
possibly sign my the warrant for my arrest
or very possibly: they’re just numbers.

Stomping grounds of yesterday’s decades past, filled with inconsistent safety nets
blindly walking around this mess as of normalcy, jealous of their contentedness
I got lucky enough to never want what everyone else had, maybe I’m just tired
either way I’m not wishing to return, the haunt doesn’t curse any more.

I’ll believe in the mercy of the almighty more than I believe it will ever be fore me
I’m just a vessel for words and pointless thoughts concussing this keyboard
I’ll dull the feeling of anything more, pointless trying anything else really
maybe It’ll take me longer to remember what I’m doing than doing it.

Elder in the Russian mob, sitting where the barber’ll cut my brothers hair
the tats and the ring are giveaways, beyond that it’s in his eyes, I see
wish he’d just been the grandpa of second generations immigrants
keeps trying to kill me with his eyes, wouldn’t be surprised.

Myth takes, as I finally get to use the words from songs that always mean more
mixing around like the brownie batter that’s altogether too much chocolate
they’re not what they used to be the things that held reality up
they don’t need to be anymore, we are the children of the dirt.

I won’t proofread this
Might reread it
Maybe
Eh.

Falling heavy

Falling heavy

You’re funny Brain

Sometimes I attempt to explain how my mind works. It usually comes out as incoherent psychobabble, which isn’t necessarily a bad thing but being as its rather unreadable,it would seem inappropriate to expose anyone not as privy to my insanity to decipher such porridge.

I laugh sometimes, its the only thing really left to do, when you’re mind doesn’t want to stop. When its thought patterns and neural links are so codified to some degree that I’m unable to see what’s right in front of me because everything that came before as well as ever after, would be conjured up as a means to tell a greater tale than that which is in front of me.

The old adage goes: “The grass is always greener on the other side.” I feel as though that statement could be the guiding light that governs my mental processes. For a long stretch of my life, a statement like that made sense. I couldn’t do anything but look forward, and work through everything, because it was the only game in town.

There was not reminiscing about happy memories, because they only reminded me of where I was then. There was no going to work because i wanted to, until there was something worthwhile to do at the store, or whatever job worked over the years. There was none of this because in my mind, I was doing what I had to do, and the grass was going to be greener on the other side. What did that mean to me until i turned the ripe old age of 23? “Nothing is going to get better, just keep going, keep fighting. ” And that’s how it went

So I lived a life, forgoing everything. Like seriously, all of the things. I didn’t live my life, I was on auto-pilot for the burned out. I was accepting things as they came in my life, and I was content with this idea that money would eventually buy my understanding of the world that I had to neglect. The one where I could be what most would call their lives, something that I wasn’t fully aware of because I’d been so systematically conditioned not to feel what my life was. Not to have a wonderful adventure but a cautious stream of affirmations that just continued to happen, with no end in sight for me, and that didn’t bother me until I got this strange feeling.

Now my gut is pretty good at letting me know about what’s up, and six months after breaking my back and questioning a lot of things, I finally realized it was saying something I should probably pay attention to. It was saying, “mother fucker,Stop!”

Its a funny thing, when you feel like you’re brain is on the brink of collapsing on itself because you’ve dug yourself into so many logic problems with everything in your life that it all seems so bleak and futile, It was incredibly fascinating that something I considered myself, was something I didn’t agree with, and as such why couldn’t I just change it? It was something I hadn’t noticed at all until it crept up on me at times when I was attempting new things. I wasn’t just doing them, I was trying to instantly be as good as I could at them, because that’s what I knew how to do, assimilate into most any situation. Adapt and die or as I like to call it. I had learned this through years of watching others literally never being grateful for what they had or where they were, which tended to make me confused as to why that was.Turns out I ended up doing the same thing.

I had managed to fill my mind with all the information I could fit in it in order to make sure I was ready for anything that could happen. Why the fuck was I attempting to overwhelm myself? In case a game of life or death jeopardy broke out, where the stakes were everything and my brain was the only thing I could think would keep me from my untimely demise, that I had so will fully accepted years prior (that’s a different conversation all together). This system of retention and regurgitation, because that’s what I knew everyone wanted was one of the first things I’d noticed was off. I wasn’t learning to see the world, I was learning just to keep the data stores up. I had managed to turn everything I’d done into an information gathering exercise, that inevitably killed any interest I had in anything because I was once more, doing as I had always done.

So I laughed, this was  before realizing the fundamental problem, and I laughed a lot. Mainly because of err, substances, but also because I found it so hard to stop this compulsion that did nothing but constantly think and retain and attempt to understand any and every situation. Life had molded me, and as it turned out, I hadn’t really learned beyond how things worked, and even that was a basic understanding at best.

So I broke myself… a bunch.

At first it was just a basic understanding of what home meant (see previous post), but because I was so lost in thinking about where I belonged i never stopped to ask for what it was, I searching for?

Was it the ultimate answer to all things?

Neatly defined in a package that resembled the appearance of that of falling star, I gave up looking for that after I read Feynman.

Next I tried to re- organize and relabel everything in my mind to refocus what I thought I wanted to focus on. It was a like a five year old with a sack of sand attached the them, waking in circles attempting to clean up the mess they were making from inadvertently creating a hole in the bag. It was futile. I ended up falling to a depressive state that repeatedly told me I was shit at organizing. It wasn’t a fun time.

So I kept laughing, realizing that my mind was fickle being, with so many safeguards to ensure that I couldn’t attempt to fuck with it quick. I just stare and laugh these days. I just look at it like the greatest well of knowledge ever, but it occasionally likes to flood when I try to grab too much too quick, and spill all over the place. Its the cause of, pretty much any strife I’ve perceptively acknowledged. Literally every “problem” I’ve thought I’ve had has been because my mind was trying too hard, and playing a dangerous game of “How fast, and how far before he crashes?”

So I meditate, Medicate, and wake up everyday believing that my mind might shut up. So that it might give me a 20 minute period where I don’t know how to out myself because I’ve analyzed my surroundings enough to tell. I mean as much as this isn’t a laughing matter, its still hilarious every time I managed to realize what’s happening. Just because I grew into a mind that wasn’t designed to be going all the time, doesn’t mean its not my greatest asset, its just gets a little pointless sometimes. Sometimes.

So I laugh and hope that one day, I can slow down enough to teach these turtles the wonders of arts and possibly crafting. I know it’s not easy, seeing as they lack opposable thumbs and all, but this patience thing is a new-ish concept to me… i think I’ll try that.

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