1/2
    and more dada dogma.
    and more doo-doo dada.
 
    and what theory of possibility. and what possibility of theory. as if either has relevance to what is and what is not. the beginning of it again. the ugliness of it. to look for and see beauty.
    on top of the mountain. it's there. whatever mountain it may or may not be. the mountain of achievement it takes ambition to climb. or something like that. and those climbing this mountain believing that the fulfillment of what they believe in - money, power, hot babes, art, poetry, god, drugs, rock 'n' roll, government, themselves, etc. - is waiting for them at the top peak of it. when we get there all will be well indeed. when we arrive at the place and time where and when all our dreams come true. or whatnot.
    nevermind. just keep climbing. keep going the way one is going. one will get there. don't worry. don't think about it. don't question it. onward and upward.
    the mountain was a molehill. and someone stood on top of it and made a mountain out of it that they stood higher than anyone else around them. then until someone else knocked them down and stood on top of them and the molehill and made a mountain out of standing even higher above everyone else. then until someone else did the same to them and stood on top of both of them and the molehill even ever the highest yet. and so it goes still. and that is the mountain we are climbing over one another trying to get to the top of because those already on top are evil and oppressive and we need to knock them down and empower ourselves.
    or maybe not.
 
    1/7
    time is now time was time. there will be nothing left of this in time. or whatever nonsense like that and such. non-existence while still believing he does exist. that is the contradiction he is faced with. faced with himself.
    huh?
    non-acknowledgement of existence. untouchable existence. he becomes a ghost. he becomes a shadow of a ghost. his thoughts, his words, his actions are barely whispers no matter how loudly he may scream or shout.

    1/10
    with the possibility of it. with the series of possibilities. now and again. hoopla oink oink. cry, baby, cry. hair down and all that as the hand is quicker than the eye of god. god looks down and laughs at the scene. blood thirsting riot. the gunfire in the streets. order and control. with all incoming and outgoing possibilities. now and again. the clues to it all are endless. mainstream consciousness. stagnant routine of this against that against the other thing involved in all the theories.
    outside looking in. into it. it being everywhere.
    once or twice.
    the dada-ananda farted. we felt blessed.
    the dada-ananda stating the obvious. and what is the obvious that is stated? the obvious perhaps that is overlooked by our daily experience of what we otherwise think the obvious is? the obvious put aside in the pursuit of the obscure? always looking beyond the veil to catch a glimpse of the mysterious. and when the mysterious becomes obvious then there is a new veil. the veil of the obvious that hides the mysterious when it is the obvious that is the most mysterious of all.
    or something like that.
    someone is talking about something. something that to them is obvious but to someone else is mysterious. that appears to be what they are talking about while the radio plays.
    and is this maybe not the case with many if not all things talked about? is this maybe not the case with what he is writing? what is obvious to him yet is mysterious to someone else.
    shit in our pants, man. dig it. what could be more obvious or even more mysterious than that? don't look too far or too deep. one is naked to us. did one know that? it's funny. a fashion parade. and to us they're all butt ass naked.
    x-ray.
    every flinch and gesture is a twist of fate. every intonation and inflection is stop on a dime. polygraph to us who see all and know all. we who see and know the mysterious as well as the obvious.
    as mysterious as they think they are we see and know them. we are bored by what surprises them. they are that much more obvious. obvious by what they try to keep mysterious. as the walls between us now are paper thin. even less. we see the shadows of all of them trying to hide from us. we zero in on where they're at whether they know that's obviously where they're at or not. it's only as mysterious as one wants to make it. dada.
 
    what?
    nevermind.
    we were interrupted by events. his events. his eventuality. his dada of trying to figure it all out. we wish he'd leave it alone so we could get some sleep. stupid idiot. questions about this and questions about that and the other thing. pissed off all the time about nothing. absolutely nothing. we keep telling him to relax that we're taking care of everything. we make mistakes but nothing that we won't be able to correct. he doesn't believe us. he doesn't believe anyone anymore. he's been ripped off enough. but he keeps coming back to us.
    but we let him go to them. we let him find out for himself what they think of him and how they treat him. and he comes staggering back to us asking to be taken back in. but how do we trust him? we suspect his loyalties lie with the others still. he speaks still highly of them. we remind him of what they've done. his reply is that they didn't know what they were doing. that they should be forgiven.
    but even that's not true. none of this is true. we will always lie. but the other truth of it is that he plots revenge against them and he wants us to help him. he wishes them destroyed. and we tell him we will. that we have in fact been working on their destruction for quite a while. but these things take time. relax. everything is being taken care of. he should just watch and wait.
    and he has been. and he says he doesn't see it. but then he looks at us. he watches us the same way.
    he's up to something. we know it. maybe he's made the same deal with them. we don't know. there is a lot he doesn't tell us.

    and so here it is and here we are. and at what point does it matter? what is important? how important is it?
    how important are they? how important are we? well, for one thing we're the ones who got it and they're the ones who don't. so that's one point in our favor. they probably don't even know what it is or maybe that they don't have it. just keep wondering why their lives suck and why almost everything they do to fix it fails. and they keep going from one thing to another changing this and changing that and the other thing. and it works for awhile then it turns into the same old shit as before.
    well, too fucking bad. we've had to listen to their sick and tired complaints for much too long. we've tried every way we could think of to clue them into it but they just don't seem to be able to get it. they twist and turn around in their minds until they become confused and frustrated by it when it's nothing to be confused or frustrated about. it's the simplest thing ever in the universe. it is the simple thing of the universe. the universe is the simple thing of it. child's play. not even that. and they can't get it because it's their thinking of it that is complicated that makes it complicated. dig?
    we're tired. we want to go home. but we can't just leave them as they are now to destroy themselves because they can't figure it out. even though that is the plan. that is the plan of the machine.
    them and their reptile minds dada-doo-wop-doo-dah-ditty-la-la-la-hoopla...

    for them it's not. for them it's perfectly well reasoned logic. it's truth. everything they believe is truth. everything we tell them is lies - which it is. everything anyone tells them is lies. no one who disagrees with them is to be trusted. they are the ones who should be given power and authority. they will change everyone and everything for the betterment of all concerned. anyone who opposes them is wrong because they are stupid, ignorant, crazy or downright evil by their very nature and/or unfortunate circumstances of whatever it was that fucked them up the way they are. nothing can be done for them. forget them. they don't fit into the others' plans. they are not important and they'll just have to learn that and deal with it - or else they'll be dealt with.
 
    1/11
    the realization of nothing. and more nothing. is he at the beginning? the end? has he forgotten? he maybe never knew. he picks up his sense of things like time from other people. the clocks they hang on the walls. the calendars they keep. other than that it is a dream of time. a dream away from them and their prison of time. a time for this. a time for that. a time for the other thing.
    everything divided into categories and boxes. what they think. what they say. what they do. with their rational divided and dividing minds.
    and this is how they divided themselves from us. we who are everywhere at all times. nothing is this. nothing is that. nothing is the other thing. only they fall for that trick. the illusion.
    as we sit beneath the tree in the garden waiting for them to stop fighting with each other and return home.
    as we watch them from the walls of the imaginary city killing and killing and gaining nothing. what is out there to gain but power over each other? and they wallow in it. none of them have the power inside themselves to give up seeking power over each other and turn their back on it and walk away. in their minds. to return home. to forget heaven and hell and enter the imaginary city. to forget good and evil and enter the garden.
    they will keep fighting forever - even in the games they play. there is nothing we can do about it to stop them. the war isn't over because none of them want it to be. not until their side wins. not until the bitter end.
    they are stuck in it. forget them. walk through it. nothing they do should be of anyone's concern. neither be their enemy nor be their friend. leave them be. they'll figure it out or else they won't. don't fall into their definitions of victim, villain, hero. let them worry about defining who's who in their zoo.. one is no one to them. one is everyone to oneself. forget and remember and return home to us. leave them to us to deal with. kill. die. that's all their world is about.
 
    1/12
    hinges unhinging. described language describing. golf. divided union. please. the flags torn down that symbolized our common hatred of one another. doggie. but not in the spirit of love. this love. if there is such a thing. this anger of love. the stick held in the hand. checked. unchecked.
    and what we now witness here. what we want no part of. zeroed. background noise. we are glowing in the dark living.

    monkeys. words. monkey words. word monkeys. and this could be as close as it comes. there could be almost maybe little or no point in looking past what is or is not here now. but perhaps we should not be so quickly to judge. genius. and it could be that there is a reason to judge. photograph it. freeze the image in one's memory to take home and look at it over and over. magnifying glass examining each point of light searching for an explanation for blaming someone.
    if one needs someone to blame, come to us. that is what we are here for. we are them. they are us. hunt us down and kill us for refusing to love one as one is.
    and who are we expected to love - besides ourselves who we adore? tell us one's answer. tell us the truth as one sees it. tell us how much one loves who one thinks one is. tell us how wonderful a person one is. tell us how much one has been lied to and betrayed. tell us of all the crimes committed against one. tell us how our hearts are supposed to fill with sympathy. tell us that is the love we are supposed to feel.
    or is one full of anger and rage? is one screaming and shouting and waving clenched fists at the sky? is this who we are supposed to love?
    we have no love. our love has vanished. unused it withered and turned to dust. we can find it no more in this dry and parched desert land.
    those who hate have taken our love we have given them. we felt they needed our love the most.
    but maybe not.
    but maybe this is not it either.
    it. the mysterious elusive it. the it that is obvious when one sees it. until then it might as well be nothing. and it is nothing. that's what is obvious about it. but expecting it to be something when it is nothing is what makes it seem mysterious. dig?
    and another obvious thing about it, though not quite so obvious, is that if it is nothing and not something then it is everything because everything is nothing and then it can be anything. it can even be something.
    dig?
    it comes and goes like that depending upon how one looks at it. but don't look at it too long.
    and to which like sort of almost somewhat vaguely and things of that nature as that as the dada-ananda is imagined again who laughs with us and who is angry with us and dances and sings with us and who is nothing and everything and anything and something.
    do you hear what i hear? asks the dada-ananda profoundly with a bit of a political edge - for everything is political, isn't it? everything in their world we are surrounded by.
    the dada-ananda moves through us unseen by most yet speaking to us through our own voices. a breeze through the trees in the forest is the dada-ananda.
    the dada-ananda will play the fool. the dada-ananda will play god. whoever and whatever we need the dada-ananda to be for our amusement - for our joy - for our suffering - the dada-ananda will be.
    this is the nature of the dada-ananda having reached the imagined state of being. nothing more. nothing less.
 
    and the extreme case of logic here. the reflection of logic chasing through the mirrors of logic. and perception. either perception based on logic or logic based on perception. it depends on which side of the mirror one is on.
 
    the burning bush. i am that i am. how simple do we need it to be? clouds in the sky?
    marching through the wilderness.

    words joined together. a river of words. and all romantic imagining as that. spread eagled. moaning. a plane crash. open-eyed television. the book. the revelation. the tip of the ice berg.
    but we know better than that. we know better than anything anyone might tell us about anything. we doubt our own truths long may they wave on the battlefield surrounding the imaginary city where the armies of the peoples of the earth and the nations of the world are camped.
    the lie. the lie of lies. the lie of truth. the truth of lies. the truth.
    the button on the lapel.
    what a nice lapel you have there, buddy joe, the dada-ananda says sometimes when the occasion is such that the thought of it arises during the occasion itself rather than moments or minutes or hours or days or weeks or months or years or decades or centuries or millennia or an ice cream cone later too late to say anything at all.
    we could have stopped it. we should have spoken. but we did not. now after the fact we fully realize our error. if only we could go back. alterations.
    but to go on. forgetting. as if. to proceed. endowed with mistakes. in full regalia of mistakes. trumpets blaring. drums pounding. loudspeakers shouting. and everybody dancing in the streets rejoicing all the mistakes we made.

    1/14
    and whatever and all the something of it. not understanding. not something about something.
    and he cannot think of it. he cannot believe in it or anything much at this point in time while others move about him and he was making some attempts to see that in a light of enjoyment but that light is hard to keep lit.
    he lights another cigarette.
    and he doesn't know which is in and which is out as he is here somewhere in-between and there are those who are one or the other. he is working within their definitions of it. and he is no one. he is just here drinking coffee and doing his laundry. not much more or less. once in a while someone says something to him and he tries to think of something to say back. but each word has several meanings and they use it as though the meaning was perfectly clear.
    and about the same thing was on about what it was on about.
    and could it be anything as exciting as nothing? and could it be a frog? a howling frog? and go. and what is more about none of it is that all of it is what is needed as an excuse to reformulate the whole action of the plan of the machine.

    as much of a purposeful incident as much as another end of the world theory bygone of a fate and a book about japanese stock market as much as is now advised of us to withstand yelling out the window to endure the unbecoming manner by which explodes our insightful amazement.
    his laundry is done now.
    to once think of it another way that as he was wondering as he surveys those who make loudful noise of the non-existence of the mythological and our imprisonment to it by those who believe in such things as real and true as much as one cannot have one without the other.
    what? asked a cloud nearby the scene.
    backward people planet device of self-control as the winds of notwithstanding evidence and ignorance as much as it is raining as much as the sun is shining simple concepts as much as that is supposed upon us.
 
    welcome to the non-future. this is the kingdom come much rumored and little understood. welcome to the end of power. all power. good and evil. not the turnover of power from one group of pinhead pigheads to another. we've seen that deal before - eh? we've heard all the fucking empty promises of better worlds to come that we want to hear anymore, thank you very much. so sit down and shut one's ever spewing mouth about that bullshit. we're living now in the world of all of one's tomorrows. check it out. it sucks out loud. if it ain't happening now, it ain't happening ever. dig? so move over, rover. go lie down with the others dogs. one is just barking at the moon. ain't done nothing for any of us. one can roll up one's manifestos and proclamations and declarations and such and rotate on them all one wants to one's heart's content and to the rounds of applause by all those who still believe one has the slightest idea about what one is talking about on and on about this and that and the other thing with this group against that group against the other group. take it someplace else and yell and scream at each other and hit each other over the head with sticks and clubs and rocks and ideas and schemes until one gets it out of one's system. then we might consider letting one come back.
    we quite frankly don't give a gosh darn worth a damn floating on a rat turd that one's life ain't working out the way one wants. tough shit. deal with it or deal with oneself. we're tired of one's endless complaining about how miserable one is. makes us wanna puke. we've got ours and too bad if one can't figure out how to get one's own. go away.

    1/16
    and nothing. and more endless formulations of the same dada. defined and undefined. imagined and unimagined.
    and he still remains sitting in the cafe bemused and bewildered. he laughs. this is all he's found he can do and be around people. anything else he attempts to do someone tells him he shouldn't be doing it or he's doing it wrong. and not just the bosses but those of the ranks as well. someone who feels they have been given authority over him for some reason. and he is no different. he looks about him thinking about how those around him shouldn't be doing what they are doing or they are doing it wrong. but they are many and he is one.
    he tries to think of it differently but he has failed to do so up to this point. judgment is a terrible thing. justice is a horrible motive. one can spend a thousand lifetimes trying to correct all the mistakes that are made without coming close to putting a dent in any of it. the world is a living hell when all one sees what is wrong with everything. but many, like him, feel that they must do this. someone needs to stand guard and take notice of all the evildoings no one else sees or recognizes. even if they aren't in a position to do anything about it, which they rarely are - except for them. and if and when they are and they do do something about it they usually make things worse. that is how history is written. and there is always more than what is written. the ruling powers and the ruled powers and the unruled powers. power power power. the word of the day. the word of the ages. nothing has changed since we climbed out of the trees and roamed out onto the savanna with big sticks in our hands. or walked behind those with the big sticks.
    the big stick works. the big stick has never failed. everybody listens to and obeys the big stick. that is its power. that is power. that is the power we give it. otherwise it'd just lie on the ground. it is we who give the big stick its power - all of us. the fear and the desire of the big stick. this is how history is written. forget everything else. remember the big stick.
    and the big stick takes many forms. it can be a piece of candy. it can be a kiss and a hug. it can be a grade on a test. it can be invisible. everybody has their own big stick that they use on somebody.
    forget it.
    he sits by the window at the cafe. it's raining. he was thinking of something else but he forgot what it was. he was waiting for someone but he forgot who. he was watching but he doesn't know what he expects to see.
 
    1/19
    and as suns of suns return to ground theory. as the conspiracy of television works its mind envelopment upon our subjective intentions. and a brief turn of events. jesus steps into the cafe taking a break from manipulating world events to his liking battling the will of satan the whole time. breath. breathe. become. shapeless. don't look back. don't look to the right or the left. don't look at anything now or ever. look at everything.
    the main text of events. the main program superseding the others of dada exposing undermining experience of values placed with our cultural framework enlarging the degree of our intent to decrease the form of real events.
    and jesus comes up to him and bums a cigarette and says, yeah, it's all going according to plan. we had a few problems finding everyone and getting them connected into it but that part seems to be running fairly smoothly. and part of this dream consciousness we control of that we seem to use if for no other reason than that it's there to be used is involved in the development of the human soul as some would believe of a spiritual nature. you dig?
    and he said that he did in order to make jesus go away, which he did back down into the street where he belongs.

    this argument their permissive church fathers supposed by silence reserved protection our workings rich compost all been a part of beyond meaning of course on the hands the plague among us guarded the blessings with their purpose witness to explain the struggling uncounted sacrifice by benefit counted on the innocent sat down to view with blood the clay hows and whys stand as we have gives it and the theory of it still doubtful our eyes opened are somewhat greatly surprised woven into that encompass them as much parameters imagination of objects what it is unabashed source of be done with any other of us prayerful delight formerly defined as wicked rise what is to attempt to move ourselves a context would be for it is the definitions ourselves arriving could be seen barrier without us only echoes of itself as answers validity of the question.

    and as jesus walks down the street talking to himself saying, the mythological is the extension of ourselves. we look to the skies for a reflected image of our own dilemma. then we judge each other. as i myself am the image and the reflection of the image carried to the generations. i am as one who perceives into the eyes of this god who is dead, yet no one has stepped forward to close its eyes. and the flesh of the body itself decays as the idea of the body transcends and is resurrected within each body imposing itself over what it has killed. and these empires that result. and these rallying points set one against the other i have come to abandon. i am free to behold myself as i will. no longer is the crown needed upon my head. no more shall armies march. i am not a victim. you have died for me.
    it is from the fountain of your frustrated energy that my eternal salvation and life is maintained. i am the one who survives this by enacting it upon you through your unknowing. that i am a trick and a lie was obvious to me from the start. that is why i determined myself to be the one who perpetuated it than to be the another who is fooled. and in this i fooled only myself as i find myself in others.
    this is the aspect that for reasons which should be apparent to any who closely examine the lack of evidence has been mysteriously kept misunderstood. your ignorance is my strength. this is the power and the authority of the mythological which is what i am and have become. and my strength through your ignorance is bliss. that there are those who believe in me and are not knowledgeable of this is to be expected. this is my rock.

    shot of ashtray. two cigarettes are burning in it. something of honesty pertained to. an unreleased anger hovers. a hand moves.
    let's say there are 3 people. people who have become and are here as characters. the first is the christ as someone perhaps self-aware of the implications bound into the mythological concept. the second is someone who may be struggling with disbelief. and the third is left open for now.
    a cafe. a table by the window. on a stage.
    and how do we explain this? how is it however anything that is defined as what already is explained when it is not? we can only question that which we already know something about. but what is not anything but a dog with curly hair as this is salted with our ambition to achieve a point at which we will become able to explain that which follows into itself as the verifiable qualities of evidence themselves as being subjective to the sense and degree of our understanding and which as this is already a pre-understood condition as far as with that which we already know something about enough at any rate to qualify it as being understandable which gives us nothing other to go on in so far as our perception involves only the common event which need not be explained.
    to be taken as evidence to be seen by the masses as such. at first a definition of what is evidence and what is not needs to be discussed before even any evidence can be presented. we can carefully avoid this by placement of auxiliary distractive devices while at the same time dismissing any idea that the subject was brought up to begin with. we tone down this intent with expressions implying disinterest while the other hand is raised serpent-like to be surrendered to our gnawing feeble lust derided by the complexity of the given context that is held to be obscure enough as to confuse and even frighten those we are now beginning to eliminate as useless mindless parasites feeding off the lifeblood of our creativity naked and burning them down. this is their free state. what liberation do they cry out for but oblivion? and this too may be the cause and effect as many more are now being drawn into it divided and conquered by our sleight of hand as they now feed on themselves. die. and we grimly smile as they stand where they are to fall with mouths gaping open aghast that we trusted among them have been the reason they have been betrayed. yet still their disbelief is truly unfolded before them. they believe themselves to be victims and we serve them well.

    whatever of this is transformed. and the sweet pure nonsense of doubt as it comes and goes as the manner of our deception is received through realization of our timid rebellion against the state of mind watching our watches and tapping our feet in time with weird rhythms set forth in the models of authority. all authority but ours. whoever or whatever comes or goes from there as is our doubt to be with or without light of being that passes from one to another as is disguised into the form and the formless. our displeasure in this becomes great. there is nothing for us to tell anyone here. there is nothing to state but the same lies that have been stated before to all. the lies that everyone is capable of telling to themselves. the lies of authority they and none of us ever think to question as they are not recognized as authority or lies but as common sense. it is what everyone who argues about everything else all agree on. wars are fought against everything - even war - and nothing has or will change. there is not truth.
    and here we are writing about truth. only fools amuse themselves with such a thing. we all have our lives to live with all the worry hurry involved to be spending our time with dead end circular pursuits into the fabric of intangible things as truth. truth is a dream the mad dream when they dream. truth is not just the dream but the madness itself. and all of us who struggle all our lives in our various ways of avoiding questioning truth and by such also keep madness at bay. for few can accept madness in its true form - which is the doubt of truth. even as one comes to doubt the truth one comes to by doubting the truth that there is no truth.
    this is far beyond the question of authority. this is without authority as it takes on the authority of creating truth in the absence of both. the authority of creating truth that is beyond the comprehension of the one who creates it. to then resign that authority to another. to place above oneself that which always remains unreachable and unquestionable.
    this that remains is nameless. it is only it. as it is that with giving it a name we believe it to be within the realm of our understanding and we can then again question it and pronounce that it is not truth nor does it or anyone else have authority over us.
    and again it is few who can or are ready or are willing to be without authority over themselves or to be without truth. as such is the madness we fear as it is also the freedom we desire. as who is it among us who is this who has done that? bring this one to us who is without authority and truth over themselves and we will show one who has found sanity in madness and who is feared and hated as well as desired and loved. and we will eliminate this one from among the others as it causes their minds and hearts to be troubled with contradiction of thoughts and feelings they run themselves around in circles to resolve.
 
    1/21
    and as with the planet of zarkon as with our every whim. the astral divided and become us. in the manner of the project to further confuse the others. that they will come to not remembering. this is us of zarkon not unlike neptune in pleasing blue but purple. eaten of worms upon our eyes and speaking in simple words to keep them in simple minds. as our ships descend unto them. as others are called up before them. and they think this is of peoples and nations. they think this is of ideas. a war of life and death. mouths swallowing the seas. the clouds of followers who have become the disease on the face of the earth. television. opening doors. the perception. cast out.
    oh boy. the news today. activate. serious business. exploding. screaming. hear the voices of those dying around one. one is the life. they try to grab onto one and take one down with them. attracted to one's light like moths. they will sustain one for a few moments and then be gone.
    and one must walk among them. they will ignore one. they will hide their ways from one. they will believe they are the saviors of the world. they believe the world is to be saved. it will be destroyed in a day. in the blink of an eye. but this is not true. forget it. do not remember this. call out the names. nevermind.
    and this truth. this open wound of truth that has become laughable. our minds gasping at the sound of it now as the theories are exploded upon themselves.
    we do not mean to confuse anyone. we are the damned in this world. we are the outcasts to others' rising success rate. look on this earth. look on these who feed on the blood of life flowing into the rivers. an open wound of the heart. we cannot speak of this. one becomes confused and walks away. it is not to one's liking. it is not to one's taste. it displeases one. and we all know one must never be displeased. we all must serve one's favor. we all are nothing compared to one.
    and as the words are silent.
    there is a story. he has lost the meaning of it as he is writing it. he is no one to tell anyone anything. in their world vision he does not exist. he was never born. he never died. he is not.
 
    and the devil danced down on easy street counting its disciples of the cashless society deal. it thought of this woman it knew with three tits. and it looked alike and passed as one's ordinary everyperson. not quite like anyone but not like no one either. nobody looked at it twice. except him but that was because it looked at him twice. we knew each other from long ago. in theory anyway. and old joke.
    and the devil laughs at him and says, the gig's up.
 
    the structure based upon main section visual image develop series of movement two elements group one that presented for example a right angle line pole people on a raised level that did not made use of the performance space the structure style imagery at one side the issue here kind of dance the characteristics relationship must direct attention use of specific placement new form several consequences social class justification of resources network which that direct organizations it also seeks community imput aims to set policy keep staff this private control through privilege and perpetuation the function of the cunning folk the devil led the dance accepting will struggle important that of the modern it's necessary enemy the pace a dwarf with and a swollen maintain itself in power chest weak legs rest of formation result short arms there after having further anatomy match the took the wrong turn there were many the economic foundation of consciousness has been formed precondition first of production the proposed steps peacefully labor this takes whether or comes to the world not depend on their resistance painful control over reactionary forces  allowing the new society to prepare contradictions brothers abolition that path of exploitation.
    next time said shook head that big pulsating right mind fat silk around once pull it down hollered set to confused for one thing looking at making the mistake nail noticed it and as for negligence week go pointing fingers slippery spot to get caught one way or another doctor sense of the individual understand the misanthrope as a matter of fact because happened crucify year sometime brute mange with the trees pebbles which are not aware declared people one by one war exist lives with indifference infatuation condemns itself opaque possess it considers a free engagement discovery attain being yielding it finds its truth then projects the concrete accomplishment realized several of the students a few minutes this particular it came close enough estimated construction four hundred also could see that it was wide at the base had four gathered feet what the mind of thought projecting from it beautiful in a different house fantastic without this to come to screw around was relay fucking angel never meet smother loved unique character certain phenomena afterwards enamored brain that in nature seek a cause again in offspring imagine it impossible greater and more perfect superlative intelligence scene of things the present something disorder entirely imaginary foundation in reason see any qualities displayed betwixt a direct and total opposition conclusions continued exerted ascribe ground cause and effect existence of body.
    for the rest of the trip destroyed suddenly deeply sad freedom of expression cheated on once again on schedule didn't care process of separation to begin again interesting fact then choose possibly be conscious so much trouble of these things how technology jarred the evil because would be so full of be unable to think be used the long for it this time it was if anything goes wrong wondering sounds funny it was attempted is so great ascertainment of resemblances ought to aim do it again this careful approach recognition of likenesses hidden under get careless information nature romantic dull acquired will soon but is correct divergences keeps a flourish from something that should not be and ugly to the beginning questions mode often appears the vacuum that had been created fool out of run from circles to clear expression wondering who baffled equally stood up drops off the sentence been sitting for a long time with papers took from remembered before a faint thing be again was beyond shuddering of darkness pocket a folder moving jerkily being completely tries again to visit refuse to have anything is impossible will not be mixed was a difference so little aware too dangerous affair like this memory is stimulated of the sadness desire following very keenly delighted series of possible to be by association sorrow because level of in a state experiencing asking little value to grasp very different on human life in camp outsider became a number completely irrelevant over simplification individual does not to be sure this kind of reoriented try to escape definition holds true that is fostered have saved groups the meaning full of awareness returning master yet confronted formations of vicious questioned morning a strong feeling try to influence mentioned it own course that fate threaten of giving spoke emptiness the past caught in that situation in which the extent enough delusion misconceived freedom is presupposed let winds blow turn upside down flew into a storms rage.
    abstruse doctrine seeming offers grimacing phenomenal world two different and art suggests coming to power complementary around mind and vision depends face of the frog but perhaps of performance characters of sublimely represented only appropriate mystery and stillness substance of libido adaptation or disunion with progression it requires co-ordinated action sexual system the concept of finality further instance concept special field energy exists not allow must in principle from and by means of which in view or not determined about this connection.
    it was while the evening lounging in the courtyard the idea of flame state of consciousness quiet room some unfamiliar of course shot though it in answer to the call but then it haunted went upstairs no sound the wildest measure flight of fancy an unusual that room none of that slowly whirled the system of ropes allow the left by to fall vaporous gathered about went to the station followed back to filled with a hollow creaking pomp maybe be better stick to think it's great to be disappeared arresting pushed hat look in the mirror and don't ask questions.
    within this acceptance than that which is found builds on people this clash the development a constant state a private oppressed persuades liberate can command and measures often find environment this case preparations deceived by courage to entrap freedom so useless visions of utopia on graves name flags precious to kill struggle deny raised invaluable obstruct want to wanting doors listen be charged with it.
 
    the third alternative.
    through the many mirrors he speaks with words that are lies. they have called him out as the villain. they have given him the name of satan - the adversary.  him and the others of his kind. they have sacrificed him for their greater good. how many times must he die for them before they realize that their lives aren't the better for it?
    he doesn't understand why no one sees this.
    and this isn't just him. the others they have turned away from with disgust. someone walks tonight in the streets drenched by the rain. one whose disease is loneliness.
    and nevermind. no one wants to know this. they want to be entertained not called upon to think unpleasant thoughts.
    he is no one no one knows. no one no one wanted to know.
 
    and he somehow for some reason remembers the sadness. sorrow. it won't leave him. right now it's his only companion. it can look right through him whatever mask he might wear to pretend he is someone else. it knows who he is. there's this emptiness only it will fill. that is what it is. he can't imagine feeling anything else. it's as much a part of him as any other part of him. he was born with it.
    the weird thing about it is that he doesn't feel sad about it. is that funny? there is a happiness about that sadness always being with him. it's hard to explain. he feels sorry for the others walking by on the street or driving their cars or sitting at the other tables here in the cafe and elsewhere. that is what his sadness is. sorrow for them.
    and they don't know what it is. they can't look at it. they hide from it looking for whatever might distract them. balanced on the abyss. he watches them waiting for them to fall into it. he smiles.

    the dada-ananda skates on thin ice.
    the dada-ananda isn't always that nice.
    because when the dada-ananda is truly known.
    it's only by having one's mind totally blown.
    the dada-ananda is between darkness and light.
    seeing the dada-ananda means nothing is wrong or right.
    few can perceive the doubt of that.
    when the dada-ananda is pulled out of a hat.