Feelin’ like a postin’, but don’t know what to post,
Nothing really going on, my brain feels like a roast
Time to write some nonsense, with nothing worth a quote
Sit back and feel the ramble of subconcious right to vote

just pluck a sentance from the shelf and listen to my(selfesh) self.

Tibetan monkey glider, myth or mere fact?

The place to discover such things is to look beyond your scope and
wonder what lies beyond things that may not even exist despite the
fact that you encourage it everyday by watering and nurturing it
though you don’t really know what it needs to subsist and yet you
continue unable to stop because doing something is better than doing
nothing and in the face of real scrutiny the wandering tow truck of
salvation brings upon it the barge of blessing where the small watch
gears all clink together in perfect synchronicity before realizing
that they have been modeled after the very jewels that makes their
gears so exact and when they fail, they fail with the utmost respect
of everything that made them succeed in the first place when wizards
with beards that drag for miles walk the earth they drag things that
shouldn’t normally be drug through beards like pistachios and flak
from planes that were shot down years ago, and they wonder why they
have these beards if they’re only meant to drag small things when they
really should be dragging boulders of the age of the earth, off the
abyss never to return to this mortal world of fun and flashtastic
cranberries that will shrivel up and become juice for something that
is much more fantastic say the fairy that lives in your closet and
wonders where you went to during the day because it likes to sit in
your room with you and play tricks, tricks of the devious sort that
would get you arrested in guam where the sun shines, and the people
lounge and the people who feel that they lounge and people who don’t
lounge because they think of it as something that is unmerited un
worthy of their being and when they reach the end of their rope they
know there’s another one to swing to so that there is no end, just
different tracks to the place that you may want to end up at, but have
no control because they ropes aren’t chosen by you, you just choose to
grasp them in your filthy paws where they grasp as tightly as they can
without damaging the world where they tighten the grip only to realize
there is no grip, there is no world, there is no spoon, it is just
there and you are left to deal with the things you have created for
yourself in the darkness of falling holes where the gravity
surrounding them neither goes up or down but just goes along with the
flow of the water that furiously grafts past the wall of the damned
where you sometimes reside if you feel like by gravity won’t let you
because it is greedy and wants to keep the rocks for itself and the
police are there and they have no way of really controlling the
gravity so they shrug their bitter shoulders and keep going while the
gravity that you feel is the gravity that they feel and it is no
different from the gravity down the street but you are forced to do
something with it and get it out shovel it get rid of it anything that
you can do to offload the weight that is residing inside of you and
you have no way of becoming that which is truly sublime you have no
way of finding your way back or forward and you are left clutching at
what is still remaining no matter how obscure it may be while you
careen out of control on a crash course with destiny that isn’t
dictated by anyone, just you left floundering in the depths of nothing
where something is because it is you and if you can escape it won’t
really be worth it anyways because it wasn’t worth it to get there in
the first place where waters flow down the trickling flows of earth
shaped my million of years here on this existing planet full of the
wondrous few, yet plentiful many of crap that comes out in a way that
is uncontrollable and I just need to run from myself because it’s the
only person to run from, in the nothing where my soul lies in a ball
in the corner next to the slice of cherry pie, waiting to be devoured
of accords outside of my own where I sleep and wonder and life and
come to the existence that I know and claw and scrape for freedom I
can’t even fathom among millions of others in the same darkness
neither reaching or accepting me in a place where I dictate the rules
and others can eat me, and I will become the one that I so long to be,
the one that I see sometimes, never know who he is or what he does,
what will become of that person is entirely up to me and the things
that he will do in the future will become the rest of my life spent in
this darkness where I thrive and live and keep my rocks in order and
everyone else’s rocks in order for the day when I come forth and bring
the glory of the life that is to be the life that everyone should live
among the trees berries, roots grass and bushes and keeps their
affairs in order on the basis that they come in on at the ferry
station where the coin you have is no good and you are left to swim
against the current where everything that your body has ever known
will turn against you and you are left with nothing, which is what you
started with but had no idea of how to keep and you reach up up up up
up and you feel that it is futile but you must reach, help become the
one that you want despite the lack of voracity you keep going,
reaching coming upon the land where people will be with you, one with
you and they will understand what they have to give each other and
they will float beyond the stratosphere where everything is beautiful
and nothing hurts.

my head hurts, i’ll read that later