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Reflecting

The world is only as as ugly or beautiful as is your reflection in a soul mirror.

Time to clean up and wipe away and expunge the negative soil from my soul .

The surface shit is easy,  that makes up the facade appearance.

It is what is on the inside that counts.

 

 

Reflecting

 

Could it be any clearer

While facing a mirror

Examining my fear, or

Heading voices I hear

Realizing I am bitter

Of my mind,  does it spear

Shedding less a many tear

For a future not so blear

Loving those so dear

Might not always be here

Around my heart so near

Eliminating the jeer

Starting now and here

Obstacles I can steer

Aim for the stratosphere

Making this the best year

Death Tracker

Recently, the state, I mostly drive in, (1 of 50, not the condition of my mindset), has opted to utilize those temporary electronic message signs, normally used for road construction projects, to tally the number of highway deaths.

I guess, since there aren’t enough necessary road projects going on,  the state feels compelled to “text” something to the motoring public.

One of the alternative flashing message is 53 deaths on the roads so far this year.

Seems too simplistic a message to me,  at least for the way my mind works.  One could assume,  it means humans, however,  I’ve seen more dead deer, then people.  Is that what it is tracking?  Nor does it mention how. Or if they are looking to increase or decrease the amount.

Same goes for rabbits, skunks, mice, birds, not to mention the hundreds and hundreds of bugs, bees, flies, butterflies,  mosquitoes,  on my windshield alone.

The other alternating messages is either,  don’t text and drive.  Or drive sober and stay alive.

Isn’t it way too ironic to display a distracting text, telling you not to text and drive?

Which in and of itself could manifest at least two possible outcomes.

A driver could put down their phone and stop texting and drive more consciously.

Or

Be distracted from their texting,  to read the bright flashing state text,  and wreck because of that.

Is the state now responsible for distracting the drivers?

I guess I’m “reading” too much into it.

The funniest “state” “post” is, (after all the “warnings” ) is Dial 511 for road conditions.

Here would be proof those signs are useless.   If the text read, “Drive haphazardly and with reckless abandon”.

Drivers would not follow those instructions either.

Poor Product Placement

Kleenex box, right next to a drinking fountain. Ewwww.

Of course I won’t leave any germs, but the person before me probably did.

With the hand sanitizer at the other end of the room. Hmmmmm?

500 Mile Distraction

“Exciting shit, that’s why I watch auto racing, I’m waiting for some accidents man. I want to see some cars on fire. I don’t care about a bunch of redneck jackoffs driving 500 miles in a circle children can do that, for Christ’s sake, doesn’t impress me.”

George Carlin

Like football,  auto racing is mindless distraction. Plus, if you like paying for shit twice, its a good gig, perhaps not twice, but extra.

Upon examination,  that looks like corporate socialism,  circumstantialy getting others to help pay for your distractions.

Consider that the products bought,  that are advertised on the hood, or the fender, jacket,  helmet,  roof,  door,  walls,  tires, windshield,  plus the commercials on tv. placed in between the drivel dialogue, the price must be increased to raise the revenue of its product or service to afford the sponsorships.

Don’t have to go too many times “around the track” to figure that out.

(Drivel dialogue,  you know if the driver of car 54 can work his way through car 69 and 77, around the corner then, blah blah blah blah blah blah, from the “color commentators”. )

Notice it is “his way” ? Where are the female drivers?  Or speakin of “color”, seems to me the only black on the track are the tires.

Corporate enslavement,  racing further down the spiral.

You are the target of,

Corporately Quadruple Dipping

Stadium revenue
Product revenue
TV ad revenue
Licensed product revenue

No sense complaining without offering an alternative. Otherwise it’s only complaining.

Here are some options.

100 miles each

Traditional forward left

Forward right

Reverse right

Blind folded

Reverse and blindfolded

See how well the radio people in the pits could actually direct the drivers through these new obstacles. Putting our human communication skills to the test

Then when those have reached their peak and become repetitive,  switch it up again or abandon it, as a realization that it no longer serves our collective evolution.

Consider that without radical significant sweeping changes,  the only thing that is occurring is the tweaking of Pavlovian mediocrity.

So unless a car shows up today and goes twice as fast,  and even faster in the turns, defying the natural laws of gravity and physics,  then it is basically the same thing,  over and over and over and over and over again.

Bringing our collective evvvv ooooo looooo shuuuuun to a craaaaaaawllllllll.

“I want to be a race car passenger: just a guy who bugs the driver. Say man, can I turn on the radio? You should slow down. Why do we gotta keep going in circles? Can I put my feet out the window? Man, you really like Tide…”

Mitch Hedburg

Tested and Testing

Feel that way constantly. Everything I do and everything I’ve done is a perpetual test. Mostly failure is the result. Quick,  try another test.

The sad part is. …, I know I am the one making up the tests.

It feels like I have inside information on stuff I’m not supposed to know, and yet supposed to share. Not quite sure what it is though.

Yet knowing, that nothing is any more profound,  than making an ingredient change or measurement alteration in a recipe.

It probably all stems from listening to an Eddie Murphy cassette,  and wanting to share the hilarity and comedic wit, of an SNL performer.

I know…….  I’ll share it with my parents. …. They thought my Steve Martin tapes were funny.

Oops,  that got it taken away.  Guess they thought they’d beat Tipper Gore to the punch.

Excuse me,  ummm, I’ve already listened to it enough,  past the point of memorization,  taking it away,  is only going to serve your need to feel like you are protecting me from something.

How about we all be adults here,  and have an open discussion,  so that I can maybe have a personality instead of borrowing one from repeating the funny stuff I hear.  Not only that,  shortly after you take it away,  I will find it in your desk,  leaving  you the cassete case, so you can maintain the illusion, you’ve “parented”.

Thank you for making me seek out other stuff perhaps you might not think I should be aware of, or listen to.  Plus, behave on the surface in a way that will give you or the rest of the world any clue, that I will examine stuff with such scrutiny, and dialogue it over and over and over in my head with myself and appreciate it in that form and not, for my “safety” let anyone know.

Only letting out non sequiturs that relate, or perhaps don’t, certainly nothing that will give me the ability to have conversations and interact with people in a human or even humane way.  As I will continue to have pre dialogue conversations with what I think people are going to say instead of listening to what they say.

Spontaneity,  kind of gets shot in the ass, when it goes through that “filter”.  Listening, takes on stratospheric layers of concentration as I try to get to what is actually being said, and separating it into the spirit of its intention, away from the myriad of other words going through my brain.

One day there will be internet blogs, where this useless information can come spewing out of my head, and I will be able to disseminate it and evolve into a real relatable interacting kind person,  this post,  may just be the start. Ta da.

 

Almost every question is a loaded question.

If I am asked “How cold is it supposed to be today?”

Instantly,  (the process in my head)  does that mean the temperature outside?  Or a reference to my demeanor? Was I supposed to know?  Is the answer supposed to be in Farenheight,  Celsius or Kelvin?  What time today? Should it be the low, or an average?

Fuck, ………. what was the question?

 

2nd Guessing

My mind is messing
Even more stressing
Answers I’m questing
Should I be confessing
It’s up to 4th guessing
One less would be a blessing

Cranium is coming unglued
Second guessing is cubed
A straight answer is skewed
Might as well be stewed
Don’t mean to be rude
My brain is screwed

I’ll never learn my lesson
What was the question
A DeLorean with exception
Would be my redemption
I understand your frustration
I forgot the summation

Why does it have to be
Doesn’t happen randomly
Could it only be me
Why can’t it be she
Or perhaps he
So I can be free

I wish this on no one
It’s absolutely no fun
There’s work to be done
Figure where it comes from
On my shoulders there’s some
The weight it’s a ton

.
A 180 would be nifty
Instead I do a 360
Try to be witty
Yet nobody gets me
I realize that is shitty
But that’s my proclivity

A puzzle to solve
So I can evolve
Can not resolve
Will not dissolve
Won’t happen by jove
Return to my cove

 

 

 

Protect Children

By not having any, is the best protection of children.

Early realization,  parents had no clue.

Why would I?

Besides, I’m not sure that my perfunctory parents could have communicated any more clearly, their palpable pile of rancor regret, for their offspring, than advocating in a myriad of effective, direct or subterfuge ways, not to have any of their own.

Religion?  To what end, don’t believe,  would be unfair to indoctrinate a child with irrational unfounded beliefs.

Simply because the baby bipedal being,  popped out in one geographical location, instead of another.

It is a viciously cruel way, to take an (as close as possible to a god like entity) innocent child,  fill with notions that by linguistic and cultural nature, separate him or herself from other god like beings.

All because the “parents” of that god like creature filled it with an opposing set of beliefs ‘s just because they knew no better themselves, but was easier to go along, then transform.

Plus, using the birth of a teacher, to create a secondary imaginary tool of manipulation and control.

Santa Claus is watching, you better behave. What, if at all does that have anything to do with Jesus?

Barely responsible for self, would be completely irresponsible to be responsible for another.

Especially the pristine like clean slate newbie information sponge like qualities those grand babies have.  Just writing this post should get me excluded from biological parenthood.  Let alone “mistakenly” impregnate someone.

Protect children, to avoid,

Being bullied or bullying.

Parental corporal punishment .

Educators corporal punishment.

Lying,  by parents answering unanswerable questions as if they know.

Dumping diapers, into landfills or oceans from industries and blatant consumerism, that is choking them out by having them.

Doug Stanhope from Oslo- Burning the bridges to nowhere.

Not having babies is good for the environment, //It’s all about the environment. Lots of stringent rules and regulations about recycling. 

How many babies can you have?  As many as you want?  Then all the other shit is pointless. 

Every time you have a kid, not only are you f’ing up the environment,  you devaluing humanity. Humanity is no different than any other commodity, where the more you have, the less it is worth. 

There are no discernable or perceived educational improvements.  Beyond systematic forwarding. Quicker with less education. En masse.

George Carlin bit dumb Americans

There’s a reason for this, there’s a reason education SUCKS, and it’s the same reason it will never, ever,  EVER be fixed.

It’s never going to get any better, don’t look for it, be happy with what you’ve got.

They don’t want a population of citizens capable of critical thinking. They don’t want well informed, well educated people capable of critical thinking. They’re not interested in that. That doesn’t help them. Thats against their interests.

Thats right. They don’t want people who are smart enough to sit around a kitchen table and think about how badly they’re getting fucked by a system that threw them overboard 30 fucking years ago. They don’t want that.

Avoid torture of children.

Circumcision is genital mutilation, besides the voodoo MOJO shit, chosen people notion of having part of your dick cut off.

The following is by Dr. Christiane Northrup

Having done hundreds of circumcisions in the past, I know first hand how painful (and sometimes dangerous) the procedure can be. It is also completely unnecessary.

A growing movement across the planet (including people from all faiths) is recognizing the psychological and physiologic damage done to boys from this procedure and trying to reverse the current thinking.

– See more at: http://www.drnorthrup.com/rethinking-circumcision/#sthash.PrUU2ZFY.dpuf

After, an alleged mom, (you’ll realize why I put alleged) described to me how a doctor strapped her first son to a board, to mutilate his genitals, and he cried horrifically in pain,  that she would and did have it done again on another son,  her answer was,  well, it probably didn’t hurt “that” bad. That is certainly an archetype example of cognitive dissonance.

Can you really be a “mom” in any true sense of the word, if you can pay someone to torture your offspring?  Once that awareness has been brought to your attention.

The alleged dads seem willing to go along with the torture cause they want their son to “look” like themselves. Who the fuck cares, and shallowness of ego that represents.

Wouldn’t it be better, the son be grateful for not being mutilated because god and the medical establishment “says” it’s a good idea.

Post pause perception pontificating paradigm shifting.

If I’m here now, then, must have been here before and will be again.

Two future conversations, both possible.

Hey,  shit head,  what deal, similar peeps?

If you mean your eyes, I  think your my son, stop asking so many questions.

Wait, 1 mo.

Why wee wee, different ?

Because.

Huh?

What do you want, the non newspeak answer?  

Plus good.

Ok,  in the age of selflessness (no concern for self, only the corporments [corporate governments]),  everything revolved around doing things for “children”, tax breaks for having them, no education for not having them, etc.

Anyway, there were so many here, there still wasn’t enough to process them,  so after your mom had you, you were placed on a conveyor belt given some liquid nutrients then passed through the robotic circumcision machine, which unfortunately was poorly maintained and cut a little more off than your foreskin.

Fortunately,  since we didn’t have enough money to care for you in the first place, we sued the corporment, and they handed over enough money to get through the first year,  besides, with all the medical advancements,  you should only have to pee sitting down for about six more months.

Double plus ungood.

Or

Via mouth less thought transfer, levitating above green grass in the shade of an oak tree.

Excuse me father,  I am grateful for all the knowledge and wisdom you have presented to me thus far.  Giving me the opportunity to strengthen and utilize all my potential.

I noticed recently,  how similar our bodies are, like our eyes, nose, even the chin dimple, all very identically close, except for our liquid waste and reproductive organ is different.  How is that so?

Well son, I was growing up in the age of neo enlightenment,  where the inhabitants of earth were at the crossroads of destroying their entire home, an awareness transformed the population from mindless ignorance to conscious awareness.

Before we got in touch with our brain / heart connection potential,  there were internet web blogs, where creative beings shared enlightened awareness.

Humanity turned away from self destruction and chose a better way. Realizing that we are all apart of a greater consciousness and that the true self, never ceases to exist,  and to use each incarnation wisely by learning from each previous lifetime.

Anyway, when my parents had me, the awareness had not taken place yet, a cruel and unconscious system was in place that made them believe it was acceptable to alter my body,  because an illusionary being, that a ficticious book was based on, plus a greedy medical industrial complex “said” it was necessary. 

So when your mother and I got in touch with our place in this multiverse, we knew that we’d be in a place to best help you on your journey through this incarnation. 

Thanks dad, I now actually remember that conversation we had had in the spirit realm. I love you. (Double plus good).

Whew, there is a grandiose taste of ego for you.

Neither of which, was any conversation I wanted to have, so I made it so I didn’t have to.

Back to my rant.
.
I say alleged on both counts as once a being has become aware the harm they are causing as a parent, and something different is not done, the parent is repeating unnecessary mistakes, through mindlessness and ignorance

Inoculations unnecessarily required.

I realize this story is Monday morning quarterbacking. However, Polio as I understand,  it was on its way out, as the innoculations began.   Yet, since the hysteria reached its peak, every child was vaccinated, and still is.

So, now, because every time the collective says “boo”, “harm” might come to your child, the pharmaceutical industry can cash in on fear and weaken the overall immune system of the populace.

Google Felitemit babies, there’s a snake eyes roll of the dice. Keep up the  innoculations, so your child can be a guinea pig or lab rat for the medical and legal establishments bottom line.

It is said,  that when the student is ready,  the teacher appears.

After writing this, realized, this is just me trying to protect myself by doling out “useless” advice to back up and “protect” myself.

Making America Great Again

Suspect phrase,  needs to be rethought.
As I strive to give it an enlightening rake over the coals.

Bear with me here. The trouble with the phrase in its entirety is the suggestion of visiting a time in the past that must have been perceived as something better than it is now.

The downside of that is,  by going back and experiencing “good times” only means to get to this moment will be a repetition of things that made the present “not so great “.

How about,  “Let’s make life on this planet as peaceful as possible for all, at all times, regardless of geographical location,  belief systems, skin color, sexuality,  income,  etcetera. ”

Oops,  can’t do that, there is no shifting of wealth to the wealthy,  if we all got along and realized we are all one in the first place.

Nostalgia.

What if the good old days are just the shitty ones remembered differently?

Personally,  I can’t think of a better time to be alive,  then right now.

That’s the convenience of being conveniently and willfully unaware, to mindlessly lead people with a slogan, that if given any real thought, makes no sense.

Eye Master Bated

Wait ! This is completely different than what you think it is.

Not sure if I needed to preface this. I like to play on words,  and certainly this could get sticky, or tearful.

(Eye) A vision  (Master) having control over (Bated) great suspense.

(See, Merriam Webster is my friend, or as I call him, m-w dot com.)

Been in kind of a temporal funk, of late. Tired,  but not exhausted, or maybe, tired of being tired.

I’ll  let Harry Chapin explain.

“My grandfather was a painter. He died at age eighty-eight, he illustrated Robert Frost’s first two books of poetry and he was looking at me and he said,

‘Harry, there are two kinds of tired: there’s good-tired, and there’s bad-tired.’ He said, ‘Ironically enough, bad-tired can be a day that you won.

But you won other people’s battles, you lived other people’s days, other peoples agendas, other people’s dreams and when it was all over there was very little “you” in there, and when you hit the hay at night, somehow you toss and turn–you don’t settle easy.’

He said, ‘Good-tired, ironically enough, can be a day that you lost. But you don’t have to tell yourself, ’cause you knew you fought your battles, you chased your dreams, you lived your days, and when you hit the hay at night, you settle easy–you sleep the sleep of the just, and you can say “take me away.”‘

He said, ‘Harry, all my life I’ve painted. God, I would’ve loved to be more successful, but I painted and I painted, and I am good-tired and they can take me away.’

Now, if there is a process in your and my lives in the insecurity that we have about a prior life or an afterlife and God–I hope there is a God. If He is– if He does exist He’s got a rather weird sense of humor, however.

But let’s just– But if there’s a process that will allow us to live our days and will allow us that degree of equanimity towards the end, looking at that black, implaccable wall of death, to allow us that degree of peace, that degree of non-fear, I want in.”

-Harry Chapin

Yes, I’m avoiding what I am trying to get to. Typical me, the Prince of Procrastination.

Woke up “tired”, knowing I had more stuff to do than time allotted to get it all done in.

While trying to prioritize and focus, found myself standing in front of a mirror.  Stopped,  (Like I had time for that) for a quick soul search.

At first, I discovered what I’ve known all along, right in front of me, a shell of a human being.

An automaton with a bio – battery blood booster and pulmonary pumping parts to energize the broken bile brain.

Mr. Roboto in the flesh, as it were.

I’ve got a secret I’ve been hiding under my skin
My heart is human, my blood is boiling, my brain I.B.M.
So if you see me acting strangely, don’t be surprised
I’m just a man who needed someone, and somewhere to hide

To keep me alive, just keep me alive
Somewhere to hide, to keep me alive

I’m not a robot without emotions. I’m not what you see
I’ve come to help you with your problems, so we can be free
I’m not a hero, I’m not the saviour, forget what you know
I’m just a man whose circumstances went beyond his control.

Styx from “Kilroy was here.”

Pupil patience prevailed,  staring longer than expected, at this low point,  it just didn’t matter. Still searching. ….

C’mon,  something “has” to be in there.

Ever notice,  you can only look into one pupil at a time?  Yet,  when you switch to the other, it is imperceptible that your eyeballs move left or right.

Either by looking into someone’s eyes or your own in a mirror?  That is at least one thing I discovered.

Waiting,  waiting. …

Then without warning,  some liquid started to pool on the lower eyelids. Probably just had my eyes open for to long without blinking.

Or,  perhaps “woke” something up inside,  that has been very dormant for too long. I suspect it is, as Dr. Wayne Dyer has described it as “The microscopic dot” that “began” me.

Time elapsed while standing still,  it felt okay though.  Probably better revisit that microscopic dot, before it falls back into hibernation.

I think I’ll be okay, not sure how others will react if all of a sudden I start behaving “human” though.

This is one I’ll have to fix by myself. 5FM.

Some Rush Lyrics from Double Agent seemed to fit too.

On the edge of sleep,
I was drifting for half the night
Anxious and restless,
Pressed down by the darkness
Bound up and wound up so tight
So many decisions, a million revisions
Caught between darkness and light

Wilderness of mirrors
World of polished steel
Gears and iron chains
Turn the grinding wheel
I run between the shadows
Some are phantoms, some are real

On the edge of sleep,
I heard voices behind the door
The known and the nameless,
Familiar and faceless
My angels and my demons at war
Which one will lose – depends on what I choose
Or maybe which voice I ignore

Wilderness of mirrors
Streets of cold desire
My precious sense of honor
Just a shield of rusty wire
I hold against the chaos
And the cross of holy fire

Wilderness of mirrors
So easy to deceive
My precious sense of rightness
Is sometimes so naïve
So that which I imagine
Is that which I believe

On the edge of sleep, I awoke to a sun so bright
Rested and fearless, cheered by your nearness
I knew which direction was right
The case had been tried by the jury inside
The choice between darkness and light

As long as I was evoking Harry Chapin,

The following is a partial adaptation of Mr. Tanner that works too.

Mister Devlin was a driver, from a town in the West.
And of all the driving jobs around he’d made his the best.
But he also was a writer who thought while hauling loads.

He practiced rhyming while night driving,

and thought of how to post.

But writing was his life, it was not his livelihood,
And it made him feel so happy and it made him feel so good.
And he wrote from his heart and he wrote from his soul.
He did not know how well he wrote; It just made him whole.

 Songwriters: HARRY F. CHAPIN

A Friend

A friend to the end

ended

Trended to mend

Forgiveness in a send

A time / space blend

Yet no comprehend

No garden to tend

Oh to transcend

Turn the bend

To end the end

And have a friend

Constant Catch 22

Damned if you do, damned if you don’t.

What if you reaped upon someone all the love you wish you “should” have for yourself?

Knowing, (or perhaps not knowing) that,  that overwhelming feeling would disintegrate you into nothingness. Or meld you into all that is.

Either way,  where would “you” be?