Posted on by robinblipinski

The Truth?

Can you identify who I am by the words I will now paint in your mind?

Color. Techno even. With sounds, smells, visuals. Real.

*

Let me tell you about myself (in the background an open window allows the wafting smell of fresh dog shit to enter and alert the nostrils to something intrusive)

Physical? Okay. Morbidly obese. I weigh between 675-700 pounds. The weight depends upon the cycle of food I choose to devour. Sometimes the potato urge kicks in and I eat deep fried, boiled, baked, microwaved… Lots and lots of potatoes with lots of melted cheese, gravy, ketchup, mustard, vinegar, sour cream… It is during these moments the body swells to the heavier range.

During some moments there is the consumption of a lot of salad. Lettuce, tomatoes, carrots… I guess you could say salad is the balancing act my body chooses

My flesh is greasy and rolling with sweat as I struggle to move. The clothing worn is adorned with the strong smell of detergent; helps keep the nasty body odors partially hidden.

I am so fat I cannot put my shoes on, or actually, any shoes. I use large slippers. Since I can’t see them beneath me I use my toes to ‘feel’ them, and then bracing against the nearest wall is slip my feet into them.

Age? Thirty seven and already almost bald. Yes, I have a hairy chest and already have nose hair and hair coming out of my ass, though that is what I’m told. I can’t even see my dick due to the multiple rolls of belly flesh.

The last time I wiped my ass was as a teen. After puberty and the terrible teens I turned to food for comfort. A lot of comfort.

The joints hurt.

People are repulsed when they come to my home. They have to come to bring me food, groceries, medicine, help. They have to come as I’m actually incapable of leaving the house as I’m larger than the front door.

Now, putting the current stench of my breath aside, (garlic ice cream) can you see who I am?

Who I really am?

I

am

a

writer.

I can write to your mind whatever the fuck I want to. I can be skinny or fat. Young or old. Good or bad.

In fact, if you really want me to describe myself to your mind…

I am your worst nightmare

and

i

am your sweetest dreams.

Posted on by robinblipinski · 1 Comment

What a (choose one: bullshit or horseshit) Question.

What strategy? Seriously? To make daily life…comfortable?

What the fuck is wrong with this planet? Comfort? Nice? Pleasant?

Does anyone seriously not know that this turd of dirt, water, air, gravity is nothing but one giant environment perfectly designed for death?

Yes, there are those delusional types that spout such things as, “This is a comfortable and beautiful place to live.” And they say other lies as the real truth of this dimension is pure fucking hell and shit.

And yes, you would be correct if you think I am bitter about this world…but i….am not.

You see, i live in a real world and I live in this shit turd ass fucked puss filled canker sore called, Earth.

For you religious zealots, ever ask the question why Jesus ascended into Heaven and did NOT choose to live here? Ha! Answer that.

Very few can even come close to knowing what i and I am talking about. Most who would read this shit probably think I’m a bitter, nasty, chip-on-the shoulder kind of being…. Faaaaaar from that.

“Oh my, we’ll pray for you.” Said some illusion or another.

“Right on brother!” Said by another illusion swimming in shit.

Now, the scene is set: A world. My world. A real place and not an illusion. Not a dream. As real as God is. A place of peace. A Life. A flowing river where there is no time, no pain, nothing but Music. In my world there are no strategy needed to make the ‘day’ better or ‘night’. Neither of those exist.

The other scene: A baby deer is born and then shortly after gaining legs is devoured by a mountain lion while the mother is helpless to give comfort. A world swimming with a form of life, (not real Life, just an illusion called, life)

And for the finale: Life cannot be destroyed. Life is eternal. Life is real. Life is love. There is no discomfort with Life. For those thinking a good fuck and orgasm is Life…Ha! Enjoy your life of death.

As for life on planet turd, it’s merely an illusion. You will never find peace, comfort, joy…. But sure as fuck, you will find death.

Posted on by robinblipinski

Groops (not groups) or, maybe grupes

Secret societies.

Secrets.

Hidden deep so deep they reveal all.

“Shhh…”

Fuck you and fuck that.

For as long as there have been planets there have been illusions.

Do you have a secret? Maybe you killed your neighbors cat? Stole some gum at the store? Joined a “shhh…” secret grupe or groop?

Now this even more fun when there is one with a secret that one does not think anyone or anything else knows… Shit, and then to find that while one has a secret they don’t want anyone to know only to learn others know and then, and then, “Shhh…” and then like a chain of command in any fucking military more and more others know while thinking no one above them has existence and if so… they don’t know.

Ha!

Ha!

Hahahahahaha…

Let me tell you a secret… i have no secrets, not one. Let me prove it… i can make the world quake anytime i want. i can ask the wind to do my bidding and since we’re best friends i can blow a world away.Time does not exist because i do not allow it unless it is for amusement.

Want more? Okay, lets talk not of spiritual as that is so mind fucking boring… Magic! Yee Fucking Haa! You know, spells, curses, hexes, perplexes, potions? Beyond real and thus really, really fucking boring. Of course with just a touch to absorb.

And lets get freaky. Do worlds really exist? You know, Earth, and trillions and billions and alternative realities?

Lets get deeper, dimensions abound to become a child’s playtoy.

Aliens?

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA…. of course. So much more ‘advanced’ than the monkeys called humans.

And yet for all ‘their’ technology, you know ‘time travel’ (fucking hilarious as time does not exist unless i allow it.) But hey, let them think they know the secrets.

Take for example a ‘ship’ outside, out of sight, out of mind, that is, if you’re blind.

Oh fuck yeah (in case you fucking haven’t noticed, i too do indeed love what so many consider profanity and swearing) Secrets. And why?

Why do groops want secrets kept from others?

Do grupes think others would be hurt from the knowledge? Or even better yet, enriched?

And another secret, in every mortal mind exists the secure thought of hiding something when they fail to realize their minds are nothing more than blinking neon signs yelling, “Hey, I’m thinking of something!”

Yep, to hide in the open is what i prefer. Only God can hurt me. Now, reader, what’s your secret?

(oh and as an aside, when something is written on a piece of paper and tried to be smuggled out of prison, do you think the Warden allows it to escape? ha! fuck no, just like writing on the internet, or chalkboard, or tattooed on the forehead; just more of the secrets of illusion) You may think what you write or express is going to be seen by others when actually ‘others’ with secrets let you just think that happy thought while they keep secrets.

So, take for what it’s worth, secrets are not secret from so many until even way high up and encompassing every form of dimension and reality, even higher than any deity, Deity, or cloud. And here is the magic of secrets, when you are open and honest and keep no secrets from anyone or anything alive/dead/animate/inanimate/ even a fucking wet dream, that is simply the4 best form of Life.

Now, i am going to play with a Universe tonight and billions of worlds will know it. Oh, and i just thought about, i stole a whole lot of porn from Norm’s News when embracing the time of puberty. The good stuff that makes a dick really hard.