gumbo

get some.

today… or was it yesterday? No, it was for sure tomorrow.

again though?

what is time?

*

i told a man who i am.

he is the first and only one.

I wonder, why?

*

why him and not her?

why now?

and yes, i know why.

*

to know and be told i am not crazy, or delusional, or human

by him

it made me smile…

*

yes indeed i told a man today

who i am

life is good indeed

(and then the earth shook…)

Hej.

Now, you don’t know me and nor should you. You only read this crap for whatever reason(s) beyond what I could ever think of. So, for this, thanks. And it is good that you don’t know me. I’m a weird bastard and in some circles crazier than the definition of the word, crazy. For this, I am thankful that I am.

Now, today. Today is a day I enjoy saying now. Not yesterday, not tomorrow, now… bugs. I get a better conversation/friendship with insects of your planet than I do with humans.. Very true. Now take today for example. A ladybug came to visit while I welded on a crane. And the stink bugs were non-stop telling jokes. Ha! They actually are funny little stinky fuckers.

Now, today was a good day. A crane is fixed and ready for cabins. The sun shined along with some pouting clouds. Thor is almost as crazy as me and was ready to tear apart the excavator.

Now, good food awaits. The insects are really talkative today. Not one meeting with any human and even Margareta was tolerant of the simmering vibrations.

I am glad for today. Extremely thankful in ways very few can even fantasize about or imagine.

Now, it is time to relax and to say to those able to stomach this ramble: Now is the time, this exact moment…Now is the time to truly realize that today was a good day to live.

Yay!

Time ticks forward, backwards, and sometimes just stops and takes a shit.

This time now there is a piece of ‘rock’ flying ‘up’ there and soon to cause some forms to laugh and others to cry.

First: To destroy Earth it is easy as the choice is not aliens or God or gods or time taking a crap. Nope. Nada. Neither this or that…

Nothing can destroy this planet except… Ha! and Fucking hell. Smile/Cry.

Second: A space ship of such primitive technology being overflown by another ship of more advanced technology being shadowed by…and so on and so on, meanwhile time just bent into a fucking giant pretzel full of some fucked up vibrations. Ha! and Fucking hell. Smile/Cry.

Third: Hype and hyberbole. This is how time can kick start and kill consciousness at the same TIME! Ha! and fucking hell. Smile/Cry.

Forth: i just kicked time in the balls. And since time does not really exist do the balls just kick really exist? Ha! and fucking hell. Smile/Cry.

The answer: A rock. Time. A craft. A concept. And since none of you can understand anything other than words of gibberish. Yes/No. And so, a poem.

…

An iris of sunlight spoke to the hand of time

Extensions of a Mind

Fed the milk and honey of a body sleeping blind

and yet there… feel it as the eyes open and a baby cries

Carrying forth an olive branch dipped in blood where once a peaceful river flowed

So if and when they chose to be naked in fear or clothed in warm light

this then is your answer

to cast away the torn and tattered

or slip into consciousness bathed by garments of pure light.

)a bit of rambling, just because I fucking can(

So, the day I was born was my first memory. The biological female who moaned in pleasure when I was created and the moan when this body was launched, not in the picture..

No memory of her or him. No memory of the doctor and nurse. The first memory of bundled cells ready for the moments. A seed. Planted. Watching.

Walls hiding a foul insulation.

Curtains block a hello from the Sun.

The next memory?

The second?

Ha!

You do not want to know.

And tonight, to savor a bloody mess.

ahhh..