Tuesday, March 20, 2012


reality is a product of human desire Tommy looks like a nerdy boyfriend someone that you can take home to meet your parents and your parents won’t be scared he has manners and wears glasses and says a lot of polite rubbish the truth doesn’t speak it acts and Tommy can act like an innocent child and he can be a viper a snake snapping at your heels he is saving his raisins for Sunday his dirty little assumptions infect reality he figures that he is disarming their defenses he is preparing them for the kill when you deep into his soul you find that there is no purity there he is the jackal waiting to snatch away your kill he wants you to do all the work so that he can take all of the credit devising ways to capture the social meaning they are fireflies that he keeps in a glass jar we must recognize how people define their lives we must understand their definitions it is the lives of people that are interesting the things that they do and how they do we must enter the language game of those we want to know how do they use language and what meanings do they attach to their words for example do you know what a grit is for some people a grit is a type of food for others a grit is a type of person others may have others meaning associated with the word grit communication is possible between two people who have nothing in common except for their shared humanness perception and interpretation cannot be separated this is a vehicle we get inside it and turn on the motor and the motor turns the wheels and the turning wheels take us somewhere sometimes the turning wheels takes us where we want to go and sometimes they do not that is life a gamble throw the dice little school girl and let us see where random chance takes us Maria was on life support for four days and I had to be the one to pull the plug she was already dead we had already lost her the idea that a situation may be viewed differently by different people begins to make sense Maria was lifeless it was a struggle for her to breathe on her own the machines were breathing for her keeping her alive how could I let go how is this possible Maria was my life my joy the substance of my life similar qualities may have different meanings she looked so pale as a ghost to look her brought  both fear and love an interpretation of reality is not universal values shape the nature of facts what was the nature of Maria I was beginning to forget I wanted to focus on the origin of her meaning in my life when we first met I can’t remember when we first met is seemed like I have always known her she has always been a presence in my life how can I deconstruct her break her down into her component parts this is my attempt to understand to come to terms with my feelings to understand our connections what it was that we shared words cannot be divorced from how they are read Maria’s meaning is in her words the words that I use to describe her and how you and I interpret those words does that make sense to you I am implanting uncertainty in every page you are uncertain of what you read here and you are uncertain about your life the direction it is heading

we live with uncertainty all the time how can we be sure of anything in this life an almost endless number of possibilities are produced the little school girl said don’t worry about it just go with the flow there is an abundance of thinking more words than need to be expressed meaning continuously alters and shifts meaning is dynamic and not static it is in continual flux language haunts reality hugo accuses the little school girl in delighting in the evisceration of culture she says hugo is a buffoon stuck in an outmoded universe she accuses him of wanting to go back to the days of horse and buggy she says that the basis of order and structure in this world is shrouded in mystery the possibility of knowing this origin may be an impossibility we may have a snowball’s chance in hell of ever discovering the origins of structure the little school girl suggests that we should stop enslaving people to the rules of society we need to stop teaching people that the world consists of only right and wrong we need to expand people’s thinking to include many more possibilities she says that sometimes we can be a little more right than wrong but we are still wrong in the face of social structure we lose our autonomy and freedom we become slaves to a system a way of thinking a way of living it controls us it shapes us it reduces our possibilities we need to break free and become creative and be creators we need to create a new world in our own image let there be light I create flexible structures that bend and break as I see necessary I create an order in my world there are no witnesses none that are still alive who can testify to this great monstrosity that I have created the monster lives and breathes there is breath in his lungs and he is animated why this patriarchy of monsters we go on playing this game tracing our lineage through the father this is a testimony of a minute part of the situation this could be the fruit of some demon’s dream or imagination thus anything could be possible we are bearing witness to our own particular experience the unknown masterpiece you are informed that human being endowed with language were exposed to a situation little clay me they are spread about the page finding pieces of bodies in the river she says appreciation these gray haired old men are making plans but they don’t include us we have been excluded pushed to the side we are at loss to prove the injury those who were injured did not survive and thusly cannot testify of their injury thus there are no witnesses they have killed all of the witnesses a perfect mob crime this something is the easy thing a simple thing of yes or no but these two cannot hold the fullness of the world our experiences are more than yes and no the accused has to explain his nonexistence his relationship or her relationship to nothingness if you are nothing then why are you here but you have a grievance with the world for making you nothing yet you cannot stand against your accuser she can only express what she has and she has nothing she is stigmatized by this impossibility to prove she cannot prove the world guilty the world refuses to enter in the courtroom this brings me to a question do we own our words or do our words own us we would simply say that obviously we own our words but is this really true are we being a bit na├»ve in our assumption of ownership because the words we speak existence before we existed they precede us they were before us we did not invent this words but we only inherited them from humans that came before us thus in terms of time order our words are

superior to us we could claim superiority over words in that we speak them or write them that they own their continued existence to our actions we say something other than what we had intended there is a distortion in the process we worry about the thoughts or feelings of others and we modify what we say the image in the looking glass we are trying to control we want our image of self to be similar to how others see us we are not independent of needs and beliefs we are the victims of our words and the words of others these words hold power over us and judge us they are mighty mighty things we are alienated from the power of our words the little school girl says that the parallel must be broken and right now what is this thing she asks that wants to be put into words we have no words for it I can struggle but I am helpless in my creation helpless to find the right words is this what it means to be human to feel helpless to preserve memory from oblivion and to accomplish revenge this I can see clearly with my own eyes now the words do not escape me it is as if I am propelled  by some demon spirit some unknown thing is pushing me along working through my fingers speaking to my mind I am inspired and the feeling can only be explained as exhilarating to be a vessel to pour forth of this foreign spirit to see the gates of nirvana open up to me establishing the facts of the human past there is no silence for the objected we do not tremble before the tyrant no we are free to stand upon our own feet alone with a blazing sword in our hand we are avenging the people the tragedy has become secularized we have made ourselves heard we have ceased to be victims we have the authority to testify to shake down the pillars of oppression stand tall my friends let us join our voices together and overcome our bondage we are brothers and sisters born of the same spirit of the same breath of the spirit the phrase universe of ideas the idea of nation the idea of the creation of value we call upon the authority of the infinite mind the monad the sun the spirit of the universe that gives all things life and energy and spirit we live in a circle with no center spinning round and round inescapable untraceable it is a pure mark of a descriptive function I was baptized Martin and my parents called me Martin and my friends called me Martin even my enemies called me Martin there is no significance in my name except as a means for identification if you call me George I will not respond I will think you are calling another person and not me the spell check changed person to persona or I typed it wrong I had to go back and change it I am a persona could this be a Freudian slip suggesting that I am a character that I play upon this stage of life that I am only an actor playing his part it is untrue that I travel this world unaltered I am constantly being changed the world changes me constantly I am soft and malleable my experiences shape me I am poured into the mold of life and then left to be cooled to grow hard and then the world shapes me some more it grinds against my rough edges and makes me smooth it polishes me and make me shine resplendent I have stepped off into the deep end I have opened Pandora’s box I have released all the demons inside of me they are out to wander the world I writing about my feelings of the beautiful and sublime names transform into a date here into a place

I into you he into her all the indicators of possible reality this suggests a range of possibilities the tiger jumps out of the cage and eats the crowd Rome instead of over there as if right here feeding the tiger arms and legs the parts that fell of the humans those who paid tickets to witness their demise how sad when you think of it they came to be entertained by the tiger but they became devoured by the tiger the tiger was hungry and stronger than the cage Rome is an image a feeling in the gut a premonition if you will a story that has never been told I agree with tonya that there little bits of brilliance that comes and goes we ride upon its wave the tiger swims after us and drowns formed by names of objects and names of relationships let us have a good laugh together as tonya goes to the bathroom she is worried about her breasts sagging about her getting old about the coming snow storm about the coming war about the singularity about the hair on hugo’s back I call it a world because the names are rigid knowledge can lead one to abandon the name to replace it with others more potent than the first thus George was changed to Martin because of the power I have a faded star on my left upper arm from back when I used to believe that evil was embodied in some supernatural entity now I realize that evil is human and not anything beyond human we encompass the fullness of evil and try to deceive ourselves and others by making up this cartoon character that we can blame our wrongs on it wasn’t the devil that made me do it I fucking did it on my own free will I was an evil fuck I hurt others I did stupid fucking things I was a  barbarian who would smash your face in for being different than me or for challenging me or for giving me a hard look sometimes I was evil just for the fuck of it I enjoyed it fucking with people there is a sadistic tendency inside of me I recognize that I try to keep that part of my personality down not let it out I used to rejoice in my being evil now I try to be more human than animal I’m not that caged tiger any more I won’t bite I promise maybe just a little bit if you ask me nicely no one has ever set foot in Utopia this is Caesar to signify is one things to name another and to show still another she lost her ability to put the brakes on she is only one speed now supper fast speed of light fast she is a flash she will cut you before you can apologize think before you get all ignorant up in her face because she has no stop mechanism the little school girl will hurt you the day after I got my tattoo a witch called me up and said the devil told her to call me we started going out after that and as always we went our separate ways she told me that she had a boyfriend that used to beat her I didn’t know how to respond I didn’t know what she wanted me to do now I realize that she wanted me to beat her she wanted me to take his place she wanted to be dominated and controlled I didn’t understand that then I didn’t know about dominance and submission back then under the regimen of descriptive the meaning is not always presented becoming the object of a description did she open the door the door has been opened we are not making amends for the lies and the atrocities that I perpetrated upon humanity against my brothers and sisters we will let then cards fall as they may and react

accordingly everyone who shares my blood my spirit those who I can call trusted souls mutual spirits those whose hearts contain the same emptiness who have the same dragon within I remember that I gave my dragon a name but I don’t remember what it was I wrote it in the front cover of Magick Book four now I remember Shem Ham Forash that’s it I don’t care if my words make you mad that is just tough shit I’m just getting out all the things I have kept inside for way too long there are no mysteries now I lay everything bare for your examination do what you want with these words I know I could get happy inside your pants another cry for the wolf the lone wolf chewing on your dead carcass you had no ability to survive this life little red riding hood you are no robin hood your hood is black to cover the rope around your neck you were born with this cord around your neck you have tried to chew it off but it grows back with your every bite we have crossed all the borders into madness this is not a confession this is a diatribe a declaration of independence I am free from the past I am free to make my own future I will not live like I was told to I will not go quietly into the night fuck no I will fight don’t give up on me so many people have given up on me or underestimated me they only showed their stupidity the pages bleed with being and nothingness they bleed with meaning when we recognize that life has no absolute meaning we then can embrace all the possible meanings that life can take and gain the strength to make life into an image that we want to become we are all in the stage of becoming yet while we are becoming we are being (paraphrase of John Lennon) words and worlds that have not yet been formed you are determined by your location within the network of names your network of experiences and the names you give them how you interpret your reality the object of history I realize that I have objectified tonya that I have made her a thing that I have dehumanized her why did I do this was it to destroy her because I could not have her for myself the phenomenologist of perception elaborates the knife Elsa gave you that thing I used to record your voice reality is not a question reality is a path to the future it is a gate that opens up to all possibilities borrowed from the space of logic this is Stalin here he is throwing glitter on the painting he says that it is interesting people laying on a beach and there is Santa Claus he is bringing the beach people presents doing the washing and drying the man with the bag of skulls said it wasn’t finished what does it mean to be Stalin no one cares about the starving she had pop bottle glasses eating the cardboard boxes taking medication he says he can’t go to sleep he says he feels pretty good he is opening a package from California going through the steps and nothing ever gets done a lack of consensus over legitimacy the numerical proof of the massacre hugo says that it is about the appropriation and the parody of past lives past fictions past narratives the little school girl is yelling at us to stop counting the bodies hugo and tonya are systematically counting the dead when they reached 500 they gave up hugo wants to satisfy reason and experience the little school girls says to hell with satisfaction tonya realizes that she may have crossed some line somewhere and decides to stay out of the argument I’m opening a bottle of Shiraz and trying to find some glasses to pour everyone a drink

the college students is shouting hey this guy is a ringer he is from the east coast the reduction of the impossible to the possible hugo is trying to pull a fast one he lives his life on the assumption that the world is knowable hugo conceives of the world as a mystery but he believes that the mystery is solvable the little school girl says that the world is a mystery that cannot be solved the little school girl threatens hugo with the wine bottle and says that she is tempted to obliterate the traces of the old world which underlies the new she is not concerned with having a neat ending or having all the questions answered life never has neat endings and there are always more questions than can be answered the clues to life do not lead to solutions there is only strangeness and disturbance where is my wisdom I believed stubbornly in my own powers pursing the image of order where none existed there is no order I this life the order makers are liars and thieves the final showdown does not restore order if it was possible for any one of us to solve the mystery than the whole world would be destroyed in microcosm and macrocosm knowing the murderer’s identity solves nothing if the world falls out from under us what if we indentify the murderer as god then what can our version of reality exist if god is the murderer he would no longer be one of us then the question of life is the question that must be solved I have absented myself from my own life I no longer exist I have disappeared and stepping into the other world the world that contains Murakami’s dead girlfriends and the man who wears the sheep mask I have stepped off the cliff and joined Sumire into the nothingness what is the nature of this world and what is place or lack of place in this world there is this idea that one can escape one’s life in the real world if only temporary leaving the real world for an unreal world and then it is possible to travel back to the real world without any adverse consequences is this what drugs does do they allow us to leave this world for another and when we come down we are able to return to this world as if we never left I think murakami is writing wakefield over and over again to sever self from the real world he recognizes that there is another world that coexists with ours an alternative reality and he proposes that certain special individuals can travel from one side to the other however this ability is haphazard the traveling is controlled by laws that we do not fully understand hugo approaches the brink of madness a threshold across which he might disappear irretrievably Sumire crossed over to never come back the protagonist is always threatened with this possibility the threat of never escaping the maze evoking the fear of losing one’s place Sumire lost her place hugo is preoccupied with the fear that he might unintentionally cross a threshold of no return he is afraid of becoming an outcast of the universe hugo has always been an outsider but he has always served the social order the structure of society hugo is a link between the two worlds I asked hugo if he would go over to the other side to bring betty boop back he said that he would think about it hugo ceases to exist when he is not doing something he exists only through his actions my hope is that in searching for betty boop hugo will become lost himself that he will cross over the threshold of no return sticking to outward facts words are transparent for hugo he sees right through them he can see through the lies of tim and AC he knows where their hearts are at

great windows that stand between him and the world hugo does not question his place in the world for him things line up when hugo travels to the other world anxiety takes hold of him he becomes afraid that he cannot return to his life and to tonya she never wants to see blue again he realizes that he has thrown away his life hugo remains a cipher a ghost it is not possible for such a man as hugo to exist hugo is looking into a mirror instead of watching another he is watching himself he sees his life played out in the life of another who is the other is this other the shadow that herman talked about the wolf to the human spirit in watching hugo finds that life is impossible he cannot escape for the life he has created with he once considered to be knowledge and wisdom moving toward the point of obsession he is obsessed with the need to know he is enslaved by the knowing he is trapped by the knowledge he has gained by his knowledge of the other world it has touched him and he is forever changed he has been touched by the madness of the other world through the example of hugo we learn that our own positions in this world are volatile at any moment we could go up in fire we could be just a black smudge on the floor something for the maid to clean up what was that I saw on zelda’s face was it shame was it vanity was she trying to hide an imperfection or a flaw it her actions that completes her fall what we try to hide is what we reveal Zelda is trying out for the dallas cowboy cheerleaders she has always been a showoff she is practicing her kicks for us I keep waiting for her cowboy boot to fly off and hit that blank spot on the wall Zelda was getting hot and sweaty Up In Ya stands up from his chair puts on his hat and walks through the door he booked passage on some ship and sailed to China there is a metafictional uncertainty to this situation what is the distinction between fiction and reality when will Up In Ya step into your life he could jump right out of the page he could be standing right behind you he could be hiding in your closet truth and fiction truly bleed into one another how many of your stories are untrue and how many are true I bet as the years go by the truth and the untruth get mixed together to make a better story lost on the other side of the world can you find your way back do you find yourself collapsing in on yourself becoming smaller and smaller a tiny dot on the landscape fading away into meaninglessness becoming one with the nothing are you becoming an unsolvable case can hugo find you your world has unraveled the edges have become frayed the mystery itself spiders into subplots that I can’t explain everyone has their own agenda everyone is searching for love life fragments into uncertainty the Turk has no guilt concerning his own infidelities he has discovered that his wife is seeing someone else but he is not sure who it is he suspects it could be hugo or possibly harpo the turk is saving up his money to hire a detective to find out but first he has to deal with the problem concerning his daughter his daughter is the barmaid the one who was miraculously healed by tim the savior of the world she has been possessed by Truck the demon and this demon has been wrecking havoc in her life truck the demon is both inside and outside of her life he wanders both the wastelands and returns to inhabit the barmaid he exists in a perpetual paradox of being and not being of

existing in two worlds at the same time of being flesh and spirit truck the demon is a roaming loner who once had a body and had enjoyed the pleasures of the flesh because of the great evil in his heart he was transformed into a demon and cursed to wander the earth desiring to be made flesh again therefore he inhabits humans so that he can enjoy the experiences of the flesh he is in constant struggle with losing and maintaining his place in the universe truck the demon has been attenuated but not completely erased all of his ties to humanity have not been fully severed he still has his connection through the barmaid when he is inside her he is able to experience everything she experiences sometimes truck the demon just goes for a ride he just sits back and watches what is happening sometimes he exerts control over the barmaid and makes he do something or say something it is because of her strange behavior and the weird things she has said that has tipped her father the turk that she is possessed the turk is making plans to have truck the demon removed from his daughter this is life real cop bad cop high up on a mountain top the American way of life burning down life this is a bad life burning down your house switch blade knife real life dark skies truck the demon thinks he is here to stay with his bad voodoo he is making the barmaid mad she is going insane he turns her upside down she is all confused and distorted it is too crowded inside of her too much is going on there is an all night in another world she is drowning in the ocean she is flapping her arms in the water struggling to stay afloat no one sees her no one hears her she is all alone dying she is upside down floating in space moving away from the space capsule the cord that connects her to the ship has been severed she is floating away farther and farther away the barmaid is lost we are losing her I don’t think she can hear us she has slipped off into her own little world can we reach her can we save her in time she is out of the loop propping up old economic systems stop it stop it now making a living an infinite street an amorphous anarchy insisting on using flash trash can come to the back of the alley we are burning bodies in trash cans they were all good mates but they wore out their welcome so we had to put them down a video about my thoughts a new religion a great deal of stock in those terms looking down upon religion the function that it facilitates she tempts us with a little glimpse of her shoulder getting the best of you seeing her out of her underworld an excuse to check the score ripened to perfection she tastes like honey and smells like cream cheese the grand scheme getting hit by a truck conforming to the four minute rule my song tends to run longer it becomes more erotic as it goes along it is about the love we share we can do it a game changer I was floored oh my god it is still brand new I was shot in the leg there was nothing I could say I couldn't feel we were two people I was there to see a friend the people in the crowd were reaching towards me touching me with a love for the human race and not for the monsters how did we get to this strange place I do not recognize it I never saw it before I have seen many things but not this there was no way to prepare for this no one saw it coming as simple and straight forward as I can I

appreciate your interest in my method of my madness this should be fun a vibrating polisher I make you clean and gleamy you are my polished metal abrasive materials polishing you a wall of warm air you will notice the change my new hobby the best angles mounting you drilling you pounding you I am documenting my work how I am transforming you manicured people touching my fingernails a bizarre thing people might be suspicious of the salvage operation there are many different methods to cut you into I am using a butcher's map to identify the cuts betty boop is asking me to be nice she is drinking tea the metal rod is in her hand she is swinging it around people are around all of the time telling stories making weird noises thin foam it is funky a great face she wants to know where the remote is smelling like a big fat cheeseburger a wolf howls and she joins in its all about the law and order a big fat moon she was crying again I was rolling out the door finding my place in the leaving the night was still young and I had dreams to fry she hates to the stone tablets joined at the hip I am following her lips as she sips her captain and coke a room full of jackals I can find myself here in this dream that you have created I don't have any shoelaces all those pictures that I had taped to my cardboard heart I was too outrageous for her taste some long lost suburban element betty boop was in the bed she had just taken a shower and had nothing on she is sharing with me what she is feeling putting it in public throwing out into the void creating something from nothing she asked me if I wanted her to put on her panties or some silk stockings she wanted to know what turned me on I told her that anything would be fine that she could do anything she wanted I told her that she always turned me on no matter what she had she could be wearing a gunny sack and I would be turned on it was her that turned me on everything about her and not the extras the people you hire to stand in the background her pubic hair was still wet from the shower the birds are eating the birdseed from the bowl you have placed on the window's ledge we are watching the trucks from your window there is a world outside and you are standing naked in your window I am standing behind you looking over your shoulder there is squash on the table you have to cut it and cook it you keep saying demure and mispronouncing it when we fuck our way through the day we fuck our way into transformation we fuck our way through love and high waters when we fuck each other's brains out betty boop is making up my mind for me she is folding me and putting me  away I am warm just out of the dryer still so hot another phrase from the bible the holy ritual poking you fucking you this is the cup that I pour myself out of of the silences are a storm inside of me we fuck the corporeal we fuck the spirit juggling this physical performance common juggling corporeal Latin learning to transform transfigure mutate inhabit reveal expose undress redress corruption of the ritual the vacuum is filled the fuck is fulfilled she has her leg up and her left leg spread out to the side her vagina warm and wet I open the lips slowly the spirit of god fills the body I am undecided is she a human or a goddess she quotes me to the angels she tells them all about me how I have died for her sins she tells the angels to have pity on

me when they come for me so gently with my fingers one hand fondles her left breast this is not a letter of attribution no it never could be we share a lie together bety boop and myself this lie sort of gave us a purpose a right to attempt to live a happy life if we have a right to be happy I'm just not in that place any more the pursuit of my own happiness trying to heal my wounds to extricate my nature pulling it out of the despair out of the hopeless fog the people that I love in hell I could not stand still I had to do something damn god and the rules I had to cross over to the other side to reach out to the hopeless I couldn't let you live with that feeling your whole life I had to pull you out of the lake of fire I had to set you free from your chains I had to slay your demons to take you down from your cross wrapping your body in the strips of cloth washing your body preparing you for burial sitting around a pizza laden table selling my copies of my book all of the copies out of the trunk of my car at the psychological hospital she may be a monster I am sure that she has powers to trick people I know that she has tricked me many times getting out the bones and you lose the structure going on for ever sex scenes she said that I had to be tasteful and not filthy and horrible we went to disney land for the day riding on the dumbo ride an international competition taking you into my own hands super fucking depressed I'm here in my own shoes feeling the wind and the heat from the sun I am standing at a crossroads so fucked up I can barely stand up absolutely come up and see me art and decadence signed by the author servants of the feminine she didn't want the same things as other three thousand miles off to the wars poking the starlets I take you in my arms sticking my tongue down your throat doing my thing so she can catch the latest disease writing bad poetry she notices the difference the change in me I can't go on with this any more taking her to houston she introduced us over lunch early american brass she said that I was such a bastard keep the tickets she asked if it was her tits 100% organic she wanted to know if it was the way she fucks if she was to old I forgot how much of a bitch she was she said that I hurt her saying she was not a nice person new york has the best chinese food in the whole world she lit a candle and asked me about tonya if I was still seeing her I pulled her hand down from over her eyes and kissed her hand I told her not to worry about tonya she looked at me as if she saw me for the very first time the city of lights betty boop asked me if we were in china I told her no she asked me why I was speaking chinese why I was chopping up a duck with a butcher's knife she told me that she was afraid that I was going crazy that someday I would kill her just like that duck she was waiting for the witchdoctor to come he was bring us some chinese food I told that he was going to hypnotize her to help her with her problem he is a specialist and not a generalist he will know what to do the witchdoctor knows about only certain special things hidden things he knows about things you can't learn in a book that is what makes him special he learned these special things

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