I've been dreaming for a while

I summoned psylocibin from the rasta mon's. These were born and raised with deep blessings. Consequently i was beholden to their hocus-pocus. About 35 minutes after consumption, my temperature increased slightly and a sense of euphoria was present. I felt at peace, devoid of time and unoccupied with thoughts that dealt with anything but the present. However, I noticed an elevated level of self-consciousness which soon was to intersect the displacement of my body. I was then accosted by a slight nausea from which my body was attempting to reject the "poison", followed by enduring waves of acute forces residing mostly in my brain and marginally the rest of my form. At times, the intensity was unbearable, possibly due to the company I was in or the intermittent glimpses into manifested visualizations. This element was undoubtedly peculiar because I did not "see" this illusion in the physical world, but entirely with my imagination, thinking these images. The uncanny resemblance to Daedelus' Sundown music video was realized only the next day.
I witnessed these manifestations, meaning that I was unable to control what I imagined.

Essentially I would engage in this process over and over, shutting my eyes to see what my mind was thinking, then occasionally feel the extreme of an emotion among a host of many that exist...unconditional love, throbbing heartbreak, "broey" homage, loneliness, uncontrollable humor, a three-year-old's curiosity, and utter confusion. I must have proclaimed confusion at least six times that night.

I also found words to be exceptionally obsolete in attempting to express myself. In each pursuit, I would find myself incapable of locating the appropriate words in my mind, or any at that. If I tried hard, I would stumble upon gibberish. My opinions were nothing short of complete ambivalence because I would think or feel something, then either forget or lose care about it after. The only way I expressed myself clearly was through the mind and with my body, however, they were all by accident. By simply feeling or thinking something, the others who I were with would instantly receive the message. It was powerful.

I found myself rolling on the floor and lying face up like a corpse on many counts.

At one point in the evening, one of us decided to roll around on an exercise ball and suggested I do the same, claiming that the experience would be rewarding. I followed the suggestion, failing to recognize the loss of weight perception, and rolled off the ball, plowing my coconut through the metal part of the screen door. Bewildered yet unharmed, it took 5 minutes to grasp the happening. I felt like an animal, clueless to the humor of society. Everyone laughed and I hadn't realized why. Shortly after, I named the spherical object the "ego ball", as its use will prompt the destruction of the ego.

I accompanied my ego in a rigorous exchange of spiritual pain. It was VERY Buddhist. I found that my ego, along with the constraint of my physical makeup, was tethering me to this world and without the presence of these two suppressive items, I would have gained entry into a separate realm. I truly was a part of the Buddhist experience. Eventually, I lost my frame of reference, identity, and almost all of my ego. There was some still left that prevented me from being completely free and I know exactly what (will remain unmentioned), desire.

Eventually I died, my identity, sense of knowledge and common sense. I became immature to become more matured. I transcended the sun and the darkness. I saw the others around me, staring at me, wondering where I've been, why i've been asleep for so long, wondering how i've been wasting my time with trivial pursuits, making things "more complicated." At this point I realized that for most of my life, I've been inhibited by my ideals, which I've been sorely mistaking for a habit of stillness and passive subtleties. This will change now.

starting today...

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Woe is him and her and them

The 7-11 is a depressing culdesac when the sun is watching. I went there, for reasons not alike the strangers I walked beside and then past. When you purchase whatever it is that compelled you to be there at that specific time, there is the absence of shame. The _____induced guilt that was once there has now vanished, like the funds of a college kid's checking account. Drug addicts know this well, because they are welcome today, tomorrow, and the next. The clerks are not the same number-punching chaps at the Armani Exchange with the pep and enthusiasm. Not at all. The 7-11 clerks don't give a rats ass about who buys what because it's always the bearded lady who wants the nachos and it's always the fire breathers who fancy beef jerky, so on and so forth. This visit wasn't contrary to what I've always seen. I seen a man, who's skull that was unproportionate to his bedrock, ravaging a collection of chocolate bars one after the other, as if a comet were on it's way to vanquish all the cacao from mesoamerica to East Germany. I proposed that he was having an affair, and junk was already out the door. I also seen another man who was radiant...a clown because he took no effort in muscling the expression. It was empty though. I've seen this look many times, many times in those who have lost all connection with commercial reality, modern thought, and the planet earth. Last I seen was a woman wearing the opposite expression...brooding with passion and disesteemed to the bone, not like misanthropes who look down on Mormons or secret Santa shoppers, but a pain that is the helium of a tank. She was a sign twirler, forgive our language. Humbling to say a passerby is I. Why then must others get all the breaks?

Dr. Strangelove's apprentice

My villain is secreting from the eye pouch and all i can think about is other evil things to do! (strokes his mustache) Recently, with an accomplice, I yoinked a golfcart on campus and took it for a ride...that shit was all terrain...then I snuck into the Blue Cafe for the KRS ONE show...i'm sorry i'm sorry....or am i (his horns protruding from the skull)

a boy and a kite

It was modestly outlined with black but boasted tangerine and saffron. Between flopping in consecutive bursts were pauses of silence, sunbathing and charm. The season was autumn so the leaves were tumbling to its leash but not like it would in winter, where they would be propelled to the crimson tendrils that followed its ambivalent dance. To whom was it courting? Was it the harvest moon lying awake until the early day, giving guidance to the lost, or the sun, bearing the talent to flatter annuals into early bloom?
“Is it I that you endear? If it is so, I will cast a light and serve you. I will be your compass while you wander at night” says the moon.
“Is it I?” asks the sun. “For I can bestow a far greater light. I can show you the Amaryllis and the Lilium.”
Their inquiries were considered yet an answer was postponed, for the time was not ready. It was decided that whatever choice be made should be of purpose and not of frivolity. After this contemplation, it began a slow descent to the boy at the other end of the leash in hopes of acquiring advice. On its way it discovers a wallowing ostrich. The ostrich flapped haphazardly, imparting feathers to many parts of the meadow until finally it added a new dance in which the neck bobbed in four-four time. Unfamiliar to the dance of the ostrich, it attempted to mimic the peculiar movement, flopping and swooping from one direction to the next. Suddenly, the ostrich dislodges a strawberry from its throat and shoots it through the distance like a finch in flight. The ostrich giggles in delight and adjusts its poise, shortly before taking off and leaving a trail of dust that was destined north.

In my pocket

3 pennies and a ball of lint.
1 Lime Green post it.
1 washed reciept from blockbuster for the movie Bladerunner.
.5 a Dentine Ice
1 Gremlin
1 folded Fat Tire label
2 folded fliers to a "Jam with Jesus" event
1 1/4" headphone adapter
1 lighter

Au Lac (Fountain Valley)

It was extraordinary....a vegetarian restaurant with outdated menus, coy and calculating waitresses with their professional facial expressions...it is "Au Lac". A woman with a strawberry head piece...over the top and under the spell. Raw food, raw personality.

There were monks, one by one. Vows of silence, yet, the stillness is deafening.

Beady-eyed black olives

I both feel and reek the aroma of a quarter arcade deep in Nevada or some other...it's strange...and i don't even believe in the word. Fluke? No no sir.

So many articles have come to publish, ones of adventure and exploration. But whatever...yesterday's news is today's tumble weed, kicked up by nostalgic pedestrians like autumn leaves.

It's repulsive, it's demanding to step backwards on the staircase. You see, people milling about, you see confusion, humans one foot to the next, sitting and slouching, magnets pulling them everywhere and nowhere on the same second and I begin to wonder if someone has written about this this this and me and you.

Strangers chasing their shadows under the harvest moon.

Streetlamps and rooftops. Hello nice to meet you!

Today, the hours of perceived consciousness...uhh...an imagination that me's been wondering where it's taken it's vacation...contractions amuck! The imagination...how grand, when in fact here before his eyes it's been with him, because he is a faint pigment and pixelated into 8 bit abstractions? His imagination is still here and there. He pretends to be something every day and that prints the receipt of imagination.

Alas, a stench from the litter box! Jostle my senses.

Drawing Restraint

Out the chicken coop, rocket pack abreast,
Petroleum Jelly fixtures for the interest I invest.
Poison Berry bush man, the roots he will caress,
A shell-covered ghost, now it shall undress.

We have kept the northern bridge

It is still,
and the daylight reincarnates.
They have been overthrown,
a restless virus,
The smoke fall listless and timber,
Not a peep from any fucking fleas.
Gotcha you bastards.!