To master the skill of humility because I already can do anything and know everything.
Lets examine experience.
I have been blessed with many abilities, reading being one of them. A little background. Growing up there was no television, no video games. Growing up there was school, work, and books. Thousands of books. Books written on every subject. Books of fiction and non fiction.
In my prime I could consume three books a day easy while still providing ‘time’ for sleep, work, school. Carrying a pile of books weighing 25 pounds or more every time visiting the library. What fun days.
Now why babble about what just glazes over the eyes of those already bored reading this? The reason is that in the consumption of millions of words it became easy to get into the minds of those authors writing the books. To feel the personal touch of both the author along with the editors and publishing houses.
Lately the obvious is now words written with the aid of A.I. or other computer related signatures. Yet, still the mind of the author comes through.
I no longer read a lot of books as when it comes to humanity, the collective mind has already been read, devoured, processed, and placed into permanent storage. It now is very rare for me to be ‘surprised’. There still remains the hope that some human somewhere will express something from their experience, their mind yet that outcome is very doubtful.
Poetry is the exception. Poetry surpasses anything A.I. can come up with. Poetry written by A.I. is as obvious as a rock falling off a cliff and smashing a hiker in the head, so does not count.
Poetry is the only literature, the only written thoughts by humans that are not only real; they surprise.
Now, the reason for writing this is to make a point of some sort or another. Currently enjoying a book written by Michael Drury. She wrote a wonderful book of which pleased the nerves in my mind. She obviously is well versed in writing and in presenting what is inside her mind. She is open, raw, talented, and also jaded, ignorant, and sad.
Michael’s way of presenting her thoughts are rare and refreshing. And in reading her work the experience gives rise to the thought, “Maybe there is hope for this world?” A thought soon dashed when reading chapter four titled, ‘The Other Side of Love’.
In chapter four it instantly became easy to see that while Michael is a very intelligent woman and that her approach to age and time is excellent, her thoughts of what love is, is to say the least, absolute bull shit.
So, what is love? For Michael love is something she has not truly known, which by my own statement is also bullshit. Every human has experienced love. Without exception, every-human-knows-and-experienced love. True love. Real love. Almost every human has rejected that love, instead embracing the illusion of hate the world smothers each and every human in..
I won’t spend much ‘time’ regarding how every human has experienced true love suffice to say, God knew each and every human before they were even born… God is nothing if not the face of the purest Love ever was/is/and will be. Of course, this is one reason why people forget they know love as many choose to forget God.
Okay. Getting back to Michael and love, she explains her opinion in a wonderful way of physical writing and a wonderful way of showing pure ignorance. For all her intelligence my dog Thor know what love is better then she ever will.
For all the intelligence being placed on the human experience it is absolutely amazing to see how one can love and yet condone the death penalty. How one says they love and yet hate that of which they love.
My sister has been married five times. The common thread was how much she ‘loved’ each husband and how soon that love turned into hate.
What is the point of this all? Well, the point is that love from God is easy and yet almost impossible for most to understand. (maybe because it is too simple for people to understand?) It is also that love from another is also easy and yet almost impossible for most to understand.
Some bullet points.
- Love is not hard, love is easier than breathing.
- Love is not evil. love is the fire and water is the hate wanting to extinguish the flame
- Love knows no time, no age, no bitterness…L-O-V-E is e-t-e-r-n-a-l. Eternal. Love is absolute.
- Love is not physical, hormonal, pheromones.
- Finally for the point of this exercise, love is not of this planet. It comes from nothing in this illusion you all embrace as a realty called, home. Love is a true gift from God, one meant to be shared by all.
Reading is wonderful. Writing is fun. Experience every ongoing. And stuffed jalapeno peppers with cream cheese, honey, and bacon are addictive.
Time
Time is a fickle crop; prone to disease, opinion, even experience. Sure you can prep the ‘garden’ for planting time and yet since time really does not exist the exercise involved in growing years is more of a gamble then a sure thing.
“Time must exist because years exist. You’re a fucking idiot Robin.”
See? This is the problem. You have people who believe in time, who believe you can grow a year. Many even believe you can grow decades, centuries and even millenia.
Take the illusion called United States of America. This ‘year’ the country celebrates a harvest of 250 years. Wow. 250 years which do not exist.
I could go on and on yet why waste the time? (Yes it is possible to waste what does not exist, just look at the world and it’s embracing of something else that does not exist, common sense)
So, what way have I grown this year? Well, if pissing on the year and then taking a huge crap on it helps it grow then I suppose that is something.
U.s. vS aUsraLiA
So parasite. Friday. Soccer. Who is gonna win the game between the red/white/blue robots and the flip flopping kangaroo people afraid of guns?
“What? Kangaroos, guns, robots… Oh, yeah, been awhile and I almost forgot you are retarded. So obviously you are referring to the world cup. I hate soccer and last night a dolphin from Miami Florida stole my binky.”
So no opinion on whose gonna claim the title Friday of playing with their balls better?
“Nope. However, if I were to bet I’d bet the hookers will win as they will be busy during and after the game.”
Not helpful and yet so you parasite. As a consolation prize though I have a new binky for you as I knew those dolphins were planning revenge for what you did to them last year when you stole their stash of strawberry jam.
“Seriously? You are going to be nice to me? (the parasite looked perplexed though it’s hard to tell if a purple blob is capable of be perplexed, horny, or constipated)
Yep. Here you go.
(silence)
“This is a jar of pennies? What the fuck am I going to do with a jar of pennies?”
Suck on them. Those pennies have been places you’ve never dreamed of. Some I found on the ground outside the convenience gas station store, some I found while cleaning out clogged sewer pipes. I swear you will find sucking on these will taste and comfort you WAY more than any chinese made rubber nipple.
(was that a smile on the parasites face? nope, definitely gas and the emitting smell proved thus)
“Thanks dude. You want to suck on one?” The parasite offered a particularly nasty looking 1964 penny minted in Denver dangling of a tentacle.
Nope. All yours. Gonna go watch the saudi sand moles kick balls at uragay.
“Whatever.”
Boundaries in relations.
Easy answers are always easiest to write.
Regarding relations with animals commonly called bears, deer, dogs, cats, birds, etc. there are no boundaries. Let them fly, swim, crawl anywhere they want to include sitting on your head.
Regarding relations with humans commonly called white, black, yellow, green, pink, male, female, its, they, them, and those, there are definitely boundaries. The first and best boundary is to go off planet to live. The moon over earth, the sun, anyplace to include a floating garbage can is the best boundary.
Since most are unable go off planet then other boundaries must be made. So in simple order, the following.
- Build a concrete wall twenty feet tall surrounding what you call home. Atop the wall embed shards of broken glass, steel spikes, rusty razor wire or anything that deters all but the most tenacious human from crossing.
- In case the wall is breached then place claymore mines just inside the perimeter. Make sure you spray the explosive side with paint, preferably orange just in case a trespassing human enters and switches placement of the mine.
- If the wall and mines do not deter the humans then depending on size of home and land home is on there are options of a water filled mote full of toxic sludge and mutant crocodiles. (mutant crocodiles can be purchased from Russia) Or if you don’t want a mote you might consider automatic machine guns or lasers. These can be operated by robots programmed to destroy any human while allowing bears, deer, dogs, cats, birds, etc. to enter.
- If every boundary fails and you are over run by humans then as a last resort detonate a small nuclear suitcase devise (currently available for purchase from Iran)
- After detonation you will no longer have to worry about anything other than dimension 13. Dimenstion 13 is a bitch and you don’t want to know about boundaries there.
Writers Parasite, aka, my friend.
Used to write under a thread called writers parasite. Wrote a lot of therapy for myself and it felt good as it keeps the shadows at bay.
The place I used to write is now defunct. The Editors there all dissolved into the mist and the owner gave up because of spam/bots and crazy creatures like myself.
However, I enjoy the parasite. It feeds me and helps me make sense of what no human can ever come close to understanding, at least that is what I understand about it.
The cool thing about writing is now for such as i the only way to put the weird wasting parasite in perspective is to communicate with it via the written word. Don’t really know why yet know it brings me some happiness to know I can.
I realize the parasite is not for everyone. Ha, definitely NOT for most and yet by writing here with it maybe some reader will get inspired to write about…
“Man you sure haven’t changed. A long winded bastard writing about absolutely nothing. Thankfully though you don’t write about how big a turd you created or blather about…”
Parasite! I knew you’d be back. Couldn’t stay away from me could ya?
“No. It is you that couldn’t stay away from me. Trust me in knowing that I tried to get as far away from you as possible.”
Well, good seeing you again. Have you been watching the World Cup?
“Nope. I hate Soccer. I played with dolphins off the coast of Curacao.”
You do know that Curacao just played Germany in the Cup and lost 7-1?
“Don’t care. I taught some dolphins how to play strip poker.”
Why?
“Cuz I like naked dolphins.”
Dolphins don’t wear clothes.
“Yes they do, you just can’t see them. All you see is what is at the tip of your nose.”
Did you win?
“No, those dolphins already knew how to play and I ended up the one being naked.”
Ha! I suspect you planned it that way. You just like showing your impressive purple blob of a body. Reminds me of jello.
“Jello? You got some? Heck it’s been so long since I’ve have jello I forget what it tastes like.”
Nope. No jello. Got some green peppers stuffed with cream cheese, Swedish molasses, mezzetta hot chili peppers, bacon, and baked to a creamy goodness.
(silence except for the parasites body emitting a growling sound)
“Damn. It’s good to be back. I’m starved. Lets go devour a tray of those peppers.”
Good to see you back also parasite. Together we can stir the pot, spill the beans, and torture each other. First though, time to munch.
Nope
Never
Nada
Humans can’t even live on Earth, can’t stop big rocks from space squishing them and for sure will never be allowed to travel the stars…unless… the change is complete, and at the moment that is highly doubtful.
it is good it is this way, makes sleeping all that more peaceful.
World Cup
(adjusted attitude: status: Muuuuuuuch better)
Go Scotland!
World Cup.
What an interesting sport.
Whee!
Warm Goo
Detach.
Uncouple.
Separate.
Split.
Phase out.
Dim.
Words of action to describe the best course to pursue when inundated with the constant babble of “Breaking news!” and “Trump did this!” and “Global warming!” and, and, and, (thud)
We all make constant decisions, we have to or else the actions around us will decide and this would usually mean our destruction.
“Uh…Fred? That bear is charging us. Do you think we should move?” Fred had already decided and started running leaving the befuddled companion asking the question to ponder on whether to run, discuss poetry with the bear, or just do nothing and get eaten.
Fun thing about decisions. They can become good decisions or bad decisions. They can save lives or kill lives. They can create something new or destroy something old.
The topic of this babble today is that I’ve made the decision to retreat back into my cave. A most wonderful cave. Buried deep in a dimension where nothing can touch me. No decisions, no pain, no anger, no hate, nothing to harm, age, or inflict angst.
What is news? For that matter what is global warming? What is racism? What is the purpose of tearing apart others both physically/mentally/spiritually?
Why is there the constant force of “I’m right, you’re wrong!”
It was interesting to see decisions of so many questions end up where the one pondering such turn into a victim. Being a victim is a decision. Being a victim gives the power of assigning blame.
Being a victim must truly be boring, just as being ‘right’ must also border on the side of seeing paint dry.
I personally like being wrong as then it is impossible to be a victim and thus boring. It also beats being ‘right’ as for humans being ‘right’ is like being a mountain for others to decide to climb and once on top plant the flag of “I’m right now and you are wrong.’
Yep, being wrong is actually very pleasant.
Is it wrong of me to write such babble? Absolutely! No one gives a shit and nor should they. They should be right and thus boring.
Anyway, even if the news and Trump and global warming and discussing poetry with a bear is the ‘right’ thing to decide to be affected by, being wrong and detaching from the herd is for me, the fucking best decision I’ve made in a long time.
So until I’m fully nestled back inside my cave and getting ready to sleep for another couple of thousand years, when I hear, “Whites are racist killers,” or “We’re all gonna die because there is a shortage of honey bees…” I’m just going to say, “You’re right, I’m wrong, and have a nice day.”
99
(clearing throat)
(inhaling and clearing the mind)
“Ninety nine bottles of beer on the wall, ninety nine bottles of beer…Take one down, pass it around, ninety eight bottles of beer on the wall…”
(sip)
(exhale and inhale)
“Ninety eight bottles…”
