Wednesday 25 September 2013

I like shoes with thick soles. You can't feel the ground. If there's nowt but air beneath you then it can't crumble and let you fall. The again, you may be just falling anyway.

George wore shoes with soles as thick as ox tongues. He knew he had nothing to stand on, so he just imagined he was free falling. He expected to hit an obstacle one day. He hoped to hit more than one. Maybe he could hang onto a branch protruding from a cliff. He would always fall asleep and let go though, if the branch didn't snap first.

I don't want to stay up with a branch, I want to bring a branch down with me. To fall together to the unknown. I wouldn't look for anymore obstacles then.

George found a branch, and stuck with it. Right until he fell onto a bus balancing on a ledge. He couldn't move without disturbing the balance. He tried to put the branch in a pocket but he was naked. He dropped the branch, it snagged. He reached to get it. The bus fell, he watched it go down without him, carrying the branch with it.

Free falling. He can't get another branch yet. My arms are still stretched out.

Dog Shite

The lady let the dog go out and shite, on the field. She didn't pick it up and it was not very nice...
Lasers detected the dog the next day it came back to have a shite. It was fried by the lasers of justice and responsibility.

Morales

The children were playing in the field outside Mr Tree's house and broke one of the chairs which were in his garden.
They decided to ignore it rather than tell Mr Tree or even just run away. Mr Tree came out and asked the children who had broken it. They said, 'Why you talking to us like that bruv? It was already broken.' Mr Tree said he would tell their parents they were being rude and maybe broke his chair. Most of them got scared and ran away. Except for one loud mouth called 'fat botch' who protested and shouted 'how dare you talk to us like that, its a free country. I knew the people who brought that chair here before you even moved here.' Mr Tree went inside, to his upset wife.
A nearby neightbour saw this and got his gun.
'It's a free country is it fat botch?'
'Yes!' she shouted.
She died.

Struggle

This world man, is not for we,
Who with we were pure,
Nor those who push the boundaries
Beyond, No.

This world is for those who,
Struggle and
fuck and fight and won't give in.

We accept the whims of what is wrong
and right,
and are not happy?

Monday 22 April 2013

A day or 2

Jarvis stepped out the door. Rumbling traffic. Hot sun.

We walked down to the east, looking around. Why, why do I walk down to this shop, so.. miles away? I just get tired as I go. Let's sit awhile by the stream there.
Time passes slow, sitting on a stone.
Sitting on the stone, time passes. When I was over at my brother's place last weekend, I remember. That was fun. A couple of legal intoxication and family love.
What's that guy walking past doing? Chatting to the air... Must be a head-set... Or is he unstable? How could I tell? He could blow up like an A'bomb any second now.
Better get up off the stone... Gonna go live some more. Good distraction... Get some brie, bread. Maybe milk... Some flavoured sparkling water.

Steps into the shop. Bit quiet... Shopkeep looks over. Better casually browse some foodstuffs... What was I gonna get? Brie for a quid? Safe. Now, don't need milk. I can go look in the alcohol section. Couple of those red cans, bitter, and a high percentage brew for good measure...
Shopkeep isn't impressed... Whatever. Maybe one day I'll get one of those porn mags as well. Probably not, don't have the balls, metaphorically, and anyway so much free crap on the internet. Do gotta worry about that stuff though... Wonder how much is consensual... How many of them girls are drugged up... There's always a bunch of pricks ruining it for everyone... Almost always guys too. To be fair, some girls like to ruin things... Manipulate people... But for the most part, they give you a better chance to fight back...
Anyway, got home now. Better sit in the sun a bit with one of them cracked open..

Hey, I'm awake man. Snooze 10mins. Love it. Damn it. Gotto get up as I'm socially obliged to. One rule fits all yeah? Work to survive. Work to survive, get tired, forget the things that are worthwhile in life.Take the pain, grit it. Or don't get things. And don't eat. Sleep out in the cold. Become sedentary. Locked down. Beast tamed, caged with an illusion of freedom. A beast which tamed itself. The hope of freedom is a cage for itself. Whatever you hope to gain, it can't suffice, it can't bring a happiness everlasting. We all chase the wind. In search of the end of the rainbow when the treasure is seeing the rainbow in the first place. But seeing the rainbow, that can't satisfy the hunger, the want, the greed, beaten into us, or just unlocked from within us as babes and homed by practise and new learning. Feed the machine. A cog that hungers to be more, to direct the machine to the place where it can be better. But the creator of the machine is gone or was never and the machine has no purpose. It just churns, faster and faster, eating up itself where there is little and gorging as it runs into valleys of much. Short paradises, followed by burning and ash and anguish (and love and pain and happiness and all things).
Ah fuck, gonna have to wait for the next bus, says 10 mins on me app. Love phones nowadays. How're they gonna get much better than this? Seeing it on my eye/retina or on a screen in my hand, at least I can use it. Tools, man.
Man and his tools. My house is just an assortment of tools, created by craftsmen, then produced, or mass produced.The great co-operation, beaten on us and then lifted on a plate for a majority. Hey, that man has better tools. That one has none. Both get life. Both equal. Will the universe correct all the inequality in the end? Or will it continue indeterminate, with all evolving? A sentient galaxy. Has our galaxy evolved, found a way to beat the competition, through intelligent life which might one day save it from perpetuity in a black hole, beyond the horizon... kept in its cage of time.

My time's up, finished work for the day. Back on to the rat run home. At home I eat, I sleep, I shit, I shower. Sometimes I shave. Rarely I fuck. One day maybe another will live with me again. Then I will fulfill my part, (after trying to fulfill what I wish was my purpose. Be creative. I play instruments, pluck strings in patterns that sensate.) Maybe have a child. Continue the machine, the galaxy evolution. The universal competition. Is it worth it? Well I want to stay in my cage. Freedom is far too daunting to embrace for now. But embrace it we must. From the beginning, eternity beckons. We can;t know it and our embrace becomes an absorption. We are absorbed, it is constant.
Then again. Time may be constant, but also constantly changing. But however or whatever the nature of time it is our constant. One of the set of our cages and our freedom.

I black out. I awake for work. I am tired.

TBC?

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