Smells like it sounds

Are you insane Kemo Sabe? Does the pope eat chicken wings? How pure and true and lovely are the intentions of Sean Hannity and Glenn Beck? I can’t answer any of these questions. I’m still knee deep in sludge and we’re two years from the apocalypse, although I’m not convinced that the calendar isn’t off and 2012 actually happened in 1945, and the four horsemen actually rode into Hiroshima and Nagasaki snuggled up in twos on atomic bombs like bats swooping down from Hell. Well I’d like to think that was a bad enough horror show. Everyone needs an optimist once in awhile. Hi.

So what is the clawmeister up to? Well, I have ceased all ingestion of placebos, greens, blues, whites, liquids, etc. etc. The lamotrigine is all dried up in my shriveling brain stem and the nothing is crawling all over me like a thick damp blanket of sand. This haw. I could consume it with melancholy rage. When was the festival? Witnessing our foolishness head on and unmedicated is like sticking my face on a treadmill made of asphalt and napalm. Wee. This is so much fun. Reality. Eat a dead rat and suck a claw horn saith the swine herd.

Motivation? What’s the point? Why am I doing this? Why am I playing the fool? What am I doing trying to save the world and battling seminary? Why am I not just getting an MBA and trying to siphon the last bit of life off the planet and the rest of our souls like a normal person, a nice, well trained, little humanoid coddling the balls of the Master dollar and drinking my individualism cocktail through my me mouth thinking this is it? (as if my me mouth isn't individualistic enough, which it certainly is... as I worry about hair loss.) Why do I worship the nothing? There is no I; see? Just this felch experiencing this, trying to keep his mouth shut between the blinks of birth and death. Poof. I’m gone. I was never even here. I wouldn’t even know if I’d been here the whole time. Just like you, and you and you and you and you and the rest of us experiencing I AM. What? Nothing.

These are all just letters. Words on a page. Or a digital page now. These are all just ideas. None of this even exists. It’s all upside down and inside out and symbols for a thing that can’t be understood. It’s right here. In between the symbols. See the empty space, inside the empty space, between the spaces between the shapes. Ain’t no time like now. This is the end times as soon as we start the beginning.