This is what happens when you…

G – give a mouse a cookie.

PG – give a moose a muffin.

PG-13 – find a stranger in the alps.

R – fuck a stranger in the ass!

the following is an example of what happens when I should be sleeping but end up writing. make of it what you will.

Every dream acquaintance, every shadowy figure that we dream, but don’t ‘know’ in real life, are actually real people in the world, just not those that we know, we may eventually encounter them, or may never, but even if we do, we may well never know them, as we have forgotten the better part of our dream

Our Minds are Open like Tulips.

A blur of every place the characters have lived. Key moments that have shaped them into being the way they are created

marshmallow man, and someone make’s him into a s’more

everything is important and opportunity is inevitable

Today I had a random desire to find a cheap trombone and learn to play.

Animals and vegitables are expensive.

Water does not equal land. Or does it?

You have to choose, and choose wisely; one is a portal to hell.

There are some things we should continue to explore.

Oh yeah, like what?

Space.

The Final Frontier.

The Ocean.

The Murky Depths.

And the Brain.

(silence)

The universe, as shown as the neuron fibers of a brain

Dragons, and gods, and pyramids, oh my!

It’s all an archetype in the human mind.

I’m not angry, I’m logical.

You Nazi.

I’ll take a farmer’s omelet and a chocolate shake.

The Galaxy behind the eye

life exists as a manifestation of the universe’s natural need for diversity and intelligence, as well as cruelty and suffering.

everything is important.

we ponder the world as we wander through its empty halls and corridors.

waiting for the story to unfold, forgetting that the story is our own, and we need to be the ones that stand up and make something happen.

Cast of Characters –

a child of the mind of the universe – inquisitive, effervescent, innocent

knowledge incarnate – cunning, witty, deliberate

ignorance incarnate – oafish, plodding, follower

The innocent suffer the wrath of the ignorant, under the piercing stare of the cruel and selfish that sit high in their towers. Neighbors, friends, and family pummel each other, for the false prize given from the change purse as the elite continue to lap up their melting sundaes.

nameless people that put on masks that reflect society and what the individuals think is required or demanded of them

How can one share great truths with the world, in an articulate and meaningful manner without removing the essence and wonder of the idea? It can happen, I know that I’ve been blown away by discussions and articles, but sometimes it seems like the sea is dried up; that the idea factory has shut down, just as I manage to get an internship with the manager.

Would you care for a side dish of world peace?

The time has come for a year of leadership. The kind that is flawed, uninsightful, and meaningless.

What is The DW-40 for A rusty mind in The rainstorm of society?

The Zen master sits on the other side of the fence and doesn’t go out in public. And he changes names with the fool as he laughs to himself. The question of where the hands go becomes a matter of integrity.

The mindless zip that we are supposed to crave falls in on itself because of the beautiful magic of the fingers.

So much life, so little time. Don’t get me wrong, we’ve made a valiant effort to experience a variety already, but how much can you fit into a lifetime? We can chronicle our lives, hoping to find a nugget hove something worthwhile, so we can know that we saw something of beauty within the world, and we were able to nurture it and cause the beauty and wonder spread. The world is a crazy place, and the people in it seem to be made for it.

All I have to do is look at people I’ve lived with. I’ve seen a variety of outlooks, from quite thoughtful, meditative, to violent and hostile. Yet buried in each, was some experience that shaped me the way I am, so some good came out of even the most absurd circumstances.

Random thoughts filled his mind. He couldn’t help it; it was just something that happened. He’d dealt with it most of his life, and it caused him to be very aware of what he said. Sometimes, almost too aware, what with the self-censorship and all.

Homeless person or circus performer? As a man sinks further into madness, depression gives way to dementia, and he relives his early days as a acrobatic clown in the circus, only this time he is struggling to live on city streets.

Can the surface show a reflection of the deep pool of thought hidden beneath?

Negation of the world’s ideals and goals is not the negation of world.

How can you define human experience, without citing specific examples of what people have seen and felt in their lives?

Love-hate, scheduled-spontaneous, sadness-happiness, anger-calmness, peace-war, knowledge-ignorance, fear-safety, cowardice-courage, exuberant-subdued. life-death

As we sat in silence, I could feel the darkness start to well up inside the once sane man that sat across the table from me. Maybe it was all in my mind, and I was the crazy one. But once that thought grabs hold of you, you always wonder where the line between madness and courage lies. And there is no clear answer for that, only further questions that blur the line even more.

Does capitalism stifle the creative nature of people, causing the bottom line to take precedence over the need to create art?

Superficial concerns take over and overshadow deep connections. The glowing box tells us how to live and what should be on our mind.

the breakdown of communication

The sun shines onward, as we move upward, shaping our lives in this world, unaware of the other plains of existence we could easily fall int0

chit chat

patty whack

give the dawg a bone

but  not a chicken bone

that would be a mistake

Utopias only exist in the dreams of madmen that don’t realize that they rule with an iron fist.

The dead have a special breakfast nook in my apartment and my heart. Sometimes we have some oatmeal with some fresh strawberries cut up in it. Delicious.

Who will stand up and say, yes, I am a member of the Legion of Anonymous?

Broken saint – are you shattered or merely just cracked?

the hands come together, and yet the silence overtakes it all.

Yesterday a man came to the door, and asked if anyone inside knew the way to San Jose. We just shook our heads instead of rushing out and saying i don’t know, but let’s go find out.

Looking into your eyes through the mirror can give you insight into who others see you as, but don’t stare too long or else you will become the other inside yourself.

What if the world had never known the invention of pants?

stop and listen. you can hear the echo of yourself in the world’s silence.

cut from a fabric that doesn’t exist, her cloak shimmered without any moonlight as she turned towards the desolate highway.

think of a fabric that doesn’t exist. there; it exists in your mind.

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