WHEN ONCE WAS ALL

to think imagine believe that all the evil terror suffering murder rape violence war fraud lying theft waste destruction greed tyranny holocaust genocide weapons of annihilation abuse addiction delusion all of it the darkness abyss void uncertainty negative dying light anti-mind confusion wrong way no how the end of everything an unnecessary death that all of this could be in the one i nothing more than fear 
of Love:

to be afraid of loving as much as being loved by another and from fear we watch witness notice observe the world strangled choking on a chicken bone... 
I don't want to be remembered this way and I'm sick of waiting 8 weeks 8 weeks 
to think imagine wonder consider contemplate decide preserve communicate

what words have done with silence –

what language has done with words –

what story has done with language –

what religion has done with story –

what poetry has done with religion –

what philosophy has done with poetry –

what science has done with philosophy –

what technology has done with science –

what society has done with technology –

what money has done with society –

what time is doing with money –

what silence will do with time…“Basically, cancer is scary, but some kinds may be more boogeyman-in-the-closet scary than serial killer scary. To understand fully, you have to look at the history of cancer diagnosis, Brawley says. In the 1850s, a group of German pathologists did some of the first biopsies on people who had clearly died of cancer. They took samples of their tumors and decided what breast cancer looks like, what lung cancer looks like, etc. Today, Brawley says, there is a patient who has a lesion that's approximately 5 millimeters in diameter -- smaller than a pea. There's a doctor taking a biopsy of that lesion and a pathologist who's analyzing the sample using 21st-century technology. The problem, Brawley says, is that they're still comparing the samples to the cancer definition that was created more than 150 years ago. It's an issue many people have difficulty wrapping their heads around: Some patients who are diagnosed with cancer do not need to be treated, because that cancer is never going to bother them. The problem is that we don't know who those people are.”
By Jacque Wilson and Amanda Enayati “Overtested Americans: when cancer isn’t cancer at all”

MAD STATE

"what will you have"
"whiskey and water"

"how do you suppose to teach them to un-learn the insanity of the world as the only one they know"
"you mean how is one cured of the self once it's believed to be real"

"howdy Gents what will it be"
"oh we're not together"
"I'm waiting for someone"
"I'll have another whiskey and water"
"nice talking with you maybe I'll see you later"
"ok baby be good"

"is this seat taken"
"no it's all yours"
"ok bartender I'll have a vodka and coke and a little ice"
"so what brings you in"
"I gave a book reading tonight at the college here in town"
"no shit how did it go"
"well the audience was attentive and courteous and it all went just as I thought it would"
"then it was a success"
"yes yes quite right"
"to success"
"to success"
"so what's the book about"
"I used to to an exterminator"
"a bugman"
"yes a bugman"
"bang any horny housewives"
"fortunately I did not"
"oh ok then"
"no in that line of work I was mostly alone in basements attics behind the garage bulkheads never really got around to lining the bedroom"
"yeah sure I just thought maybe you'd gotten lucky"
"nope and I've never much relied on luck"
"really"
"Nietzsche says the outcome of one's life is the result of his own will and ultimate intention"
"yeah but Nietzsche was a certified gertrude"
"a certified what"
"a loony madcap I mean by the end he was totally bonkers"
"yes well the truth can do that to a man"
"not with one of these in my hand bartender another round for me and my friend"
"as often is the case only the insane can see the truth for what it is because logic leads back in a circle to uncertainty and every answer begets another question endlessly until the mind is tied up in a knot"
"or decides to jump off a bridge"
"oh alcohol helps to suspend the conflict briefly in some but to survive the ongoing challenge of life eventually the mind must face the light"
"fucking bugs"
"not much a man can do against the light"
"the needle"
"well well what do you know and how do you do my name is Bill"
"Hank"
"bartender..."

AS I DIE LAUGHING

stop and imagine how you'll be remembered and you'll quickly wish to be forgotten
like a disaster waiting to happen.
one more whiskey and no more war.
please don't worry.
I'm nothing.
but this is how it should be:

Apocalypse Not
(the Reduz that never was)
Directed by Aronofsky
starring:
Gandolfini as Col. Kurtz
LeBeouf as Capt. Willard
O. Wilson as Kilgore
and Depp as Hopper's Character the Photojournalist

oh fuck me right too late unless we get Willis to gain some pounds or maybe Rogen is free to grease the noodles...

ok ok bad idea fucking stupid but how about this:
a Mockumentary of the making of a Good Will Hunting remake
Written by Kevin Smith
Directed by Ben Affleck
starring:
Matt Damon as Will
Johnny Knoxville as Ben Affleck
Austin Powers as Robin Williams
Peter Sarsgaard as himself
and if Mini Driver isn't available then Mila Kunis or Juno...

I let the words worry about what they mean if this shit writes itself I wonder who is it for? "words are no good" well then what kind of war are you trying to win blame of me for what again? died for me from who? I don't think it's right to make me receive any thing by someone innocent being crucified. all wrong and makes no sense. all wrong so it can't be but not much of but another book full of killing time with is what I see...

GHOST WRITER

what if we're already dead how much more meaningful it would all seem to be: no?
murder is the misappropriation of suicide death energy dark matter gone awry. given the amount of it we've had so far one might hope we'd know a better understanding of what Time is other than something as misconceived as a measure of money's worth. but that is my pride getting the best of me unaware of how foolish it must sound to any other but its own. when will it. when will it. less than 10 weeks now. but it won't go and it won't stop. I can't make it what it won't. love is what we use to deny ourselves because it is so much easier to lie to someone else. you write like a disaster waiting to happen. I can't make it what it won't to its own. trust me. nor can you neither. if Death is what they want there is plenty of that going around. what if we're already. between war and whiskey and the way words turn right to wrong I can't wait to become one. do they know we're already dead? what difference is there a difference. can't make it what it won't. not now. not ever. seems like they read me just fine. words got me good. "I can remember how when I was young and believed death to be a phenomenon of the body; now I know it to be merely a function of the mind - and that of the minds of the ones who suffer the bereavement. The nihilists say it's the end; fundamentalists, the beginning when in reality it is no more than a single tenant or family moving out of a tenement or a town."

- Faulkner, As I Lay Dying

PRECIOUS .IS.

language is a dead medium for explaining human experience.
between war and whiskey an American Legacy best summed up "I'd rather sink with a Republican than sail with Democrat" as if loyalty is a cure for ignorance. it isn't. once more there are those who say they would rather sink with a Republican than sink with a Democrat is there a difference...
I write.
I breath.
I eat.
I sleep.
I write.
I'm going to write until the sky splits open and heaven falls to the earth.
I'm going to write until everyone who can't read understands what it all means.
I'm going to write until my soul bids farewell.
writing is what makes the vital worthwhile.
cigarettes are a poor man's watch. come see the pink machine dream of being the real thing while the world pretends now is the end to believe life is shit is a lie: it is less than that. all or nothing and not much of what one can make I guess war is what we do to keep it from becoming more boring because war is as close to true as one can get without dying yet boredom is even worse is where madness springs and madness is the beginning of evil to start some up and see where it leads makes war look like sport or organized religion no pun intended support systems to keep the abyss at bay. sex. eat. sleep. until the final send off. later. goodbye. why else would it matter to a troubled mind providing literary experimentation for sake of expression no one comprehends what it feels like to perceive the essential awareness between light and time running on the same line described but unnamed saved for the last page discarded as a fake mistake overlooked in the process and exactly as it should be...

WRONG OF RIGHT

I fell into a deep sleep and slipped into another world...
give them what they want
Wars are fought by men mostly old children but they are won by warriors by the ones who've died in battle. War is our honor game to the Gods. It is how we weed out the weakest and most feeble minded from the gene pool those lucky enough to be born but not tough enough to live lacking intelligence and awareness organization strategy vision cunning patience deception when necessary knowing when to fight and when to hide and wait. Everyone who dies in war chooses to whether they realize it or not. The only question to ask is Why: and of course the answer will must remain whitewashed in silence. 10 weeks.  10 more weeks to live caught me eye on hangnail I feel like I could sleep forever and not miss a goddamn thing talk is not only cheap it is worthless and symptom of extreme delusion. Writing is just a little less so. "Often a man wishes to be alone and a girl wishes to be alone too and if they love each other they are jealous of that in each other, but I can truly say we never felt that way. We could feel alone when we were together, alone against the others. But we were never lonely and never afraid when we were together. I know that the night is not the same as the day: that all things are different, that the things of the night cannot be explained in the day, because they do not then exist, and the night can be a dreadful time for lonely people once their loneliness has started. If people bring so much courage to this world the world has to kill them to break them so of course it kills them. The world breaks every one and afterward many are strong at the broken places. But those that will not break it kills. It kills the very good and the very gentle and the very brave impartially. If you are none of these you can be sure it will kill you too but there will be no special hurry."

-  Hemingway, A Farewell To Arms

add time. add more time. they want more time. always...

HELLO WAR

Hemingway
Steinbeck
Algren
Vonnegut
(but not Burroughs and maybe not Kerouac)
and there are others I suppose
they work you over for a few pages of acceptable details
of plot and character insight that twist and entwine and
finally knot and once knotted
need to be loosened through a dialectic trick of posing
opposite thoughts against each other until an impression
of balance between words is restored
between words...

it's the classic scenario of an author (as dictator) taking
credit for solving an imagined conflict he instigated in
order to discover some applicable principle of life that
unfortunately exists only within the same foolish pages
of his frivolous script

if it was a case of a cat chasing her own tail it would be
cute but it's not
it's more like a doctor killing his patient and then balling
about the quality of medicine these days

all at the wrong of right...

THE SILENCE AND THE FORM

"This was where I saw the river for the last time this morning about here. I could feel water beyond the twilight, smell. When it bloomed in the spring and it rained the smell was everywhere you didn't notice it so much at other times but when it rained the smell began to come into the house at twilight either it would rain more at twilight or there was something in the light itself but it always smelled strongest then until I would lie in bed thinking when will it stop when will it stop. The draft in the door smelled of water, a damp steady breath. Sometimes I could put myself to sleep saying that over and over until after the honeysuckle got all mixed up in it the whole thing came to symbolize night and unrest I seemed to be lying neither asleep nor awake looking down a long corridor of gray halflight where all stable things had become shadowy paradoxical all I had done shadows all I had felt suffered taking visible form antic and perverse mocking without relevance inherent themselves with the denial of the significance they should have affirmed thinking I was I was not who was not was not who."

- Faulkner, The Sound And The Fury

FUCKIT

I think I'd be better off without me:
it's so obvious why did it take so long to figure out life isn't meant to be lived. the world would rather be left to the bugs and dust let the bees fight the yellowjackets and the cockroaches argue with ants let the lions eat antelope and the owls mark the snake.
we've all but overstayed our welcome and who knows Death is eternal ecstasy...
try to blow your own whistle it isn't easy:
repurposing reality for history seems like printing money on worthless paper instead of coining gold for beer and bread now as we all know for certain the only things that trickle down in America is piss shit and toxic bliss...
words from the future written about the past we've only just begun to live. divine inspired verbosity I'm no longer protected hidden within ignorance from others they are awake alert curious interested now growing more suspicious of me my quiet inward gaze chasing time to light it's like each website has its own unique personality my offspring progeny virtual legacy I leave to the world instead of procreating flesh and spirit and blood and freewill I post a space and name it and make it shine like a new star to the night sky...