babble on, jim jones

and maybe i ignore the path before me because the bridge spans such distance or the bond is illusion or the sharing is imbalanced or the music is missing, yes the music is missing, no one knows how important that is to me... and maybe i just chose to live in the moment in the real world in the flesh and bones body sharing time and space where eye contact and smiles are not only words and imagination does not have to fill in the space between, yes the space between, no one knows how important that is to me... and maybe i face the fact that my dream will not be found online in words with others far away who have so much to fill there day and others more important than me to pass their time in real time real space where they live... so maybe i do not ignore the path before me because this is me right here right now acknowledging the dead end it presents to me...

meanwhile, kevin wilson, kind of the adult weird al from down under (and we can take that a number of ways), amuses me as i ponder life, the universe, and everything in between wondering what else i can do with this life that i haven't messed up already, especially in terms of unhinging my dreams... unfortunately, my internet connection is slow so i cannot listen to much as each file must be downloaded to be listened to, but i am enjoying the sampling i am finding on youtube... just search for kevin bloody wilson and you'll find home... oh, but warning, if you are offended easily, don't search for him at all... and certainly don't search for a kiwi show called the g spot or searching for or finding or something like that...

a wonderful distraction, that kevin bloody wilson... and so is edie brickell, who sends my mind in the direction of donovan's slow down world with a few lines from the first track of her volcano cd and i am so stubbornly foolish for wasting so much money on frivolous fun and food and stuff that piles up in boxes and closets and cabinets when all that really matters to me in the end, materially, is music and words and visual inspirations... yet how many years have my walls stood barren and white... and how many years have my shelves been an empty sight... and how many years have i listened to a silent night... how many ways can i continue to continue this fight... survival was a reason, fact to be sure, but that's a long long time ago (if only my heart would let my mind know)... loyalty and promises, the best of reasons, but what good is it when you've been replaced (if only that was something i really faced)... believing in love and in innocence and all the fairy tales may be good enough for some (and me, foolish me, too smart to be so dumb)... when life betrays the heart and mind and the body is broken by fear that the dream is gone and hope can no longer save you... what is left to do but paint the world white to better see the rainbows through your tears... when all that's left for real is in the mind, who needs hearing or sight... tommy knew... what is true... do you?...

laguage... sigh and nide... nide nigh not here nor there days that end in y... why?

luggage of the mind, baggage of words clogging the pipes, blocking the flow through the synapses, imagine that... sometimes viewed as snide, but more, the nod of acknowledgement for the inevitible end of life, aided and abetted by normal human behavior (re: suicidal habits), also known as giving up and giving in to belong and not rock the boat and fit in and be accepted, if not popular... aka neight here nor there... transitional terms for whatever, the afterlife, the before life, the life unformed, unlived, unshared... the answer is the question...

contrary to public opinion, public opinion can be wrong... but be that as it may be or not to be, the question awaits the one who cares to find it and complete the circle of sharing that goes around and comes around and continues on ad infinitum and as such, confounds the general public (as opposed to the private or corporal public) to tears that they will die to hide cuz in the real world vulnerability is as deadly as anthrax (and almost as scary) for what good is a living body when the world offers the honest man an emotional death (or a double cross, even, steven, halleluya)... ask yourself this... do you close your eyes to the hypocrisy and stupidity of being afraid and/or scoffing and putting down a search for a supernatural experience, a mystical magical sense of something existing beyond our physical senses, an energy without physical form, while, when alone or in a socially acceptible supernatural environment, hunckering down and praying for the very experience of something existing beyond your physical senses?...

the answers is the question you will ask next...

of course it may not be the answer to everything, like 42, or even the answer you were seeking, in fact, it could very well be the answer you did not want to find, but were somehow tricked into it by this cleverly disguised mind control i casually call babbling, bwaah haha, and all that jazz... unfortunately, in the real world outside the blog and my head, there are obligations i've accepted that restrict my movement and place limits on my time... a sudden and impulsive disappearance from my desk for several days would be, for me, an unacceptible disregard for the committment i made... and therein shows yet another side of the fool who would modify his life for a job place that cloud simply, on any given day, say leave and do not come back (and it's been done to too many long term loyal hard workers along the way)... but what brings on this sudden gimp of conscience?... the clock ticking past midnight?... perhaps, or more perhaps the synaptic trail runs a bit deeper than that if you can find it...

bonafide and sanctifide the reverend said drink cyanide and flock to him were weakened minds who'd gladly leave this world behind... jim jones, did you like the rolling stones... jim jones, did you just want to be known... jim jones, did you dream in monotones... jim jones, jim jones, did anyone say, please leave me alone... leave me alone... jim jones, jim jones, you shoulda stayed a great unknown... jim jones, jim jones, just another danger zone...

and when everybody thought the world was flat, would you have said that's where it's at?... and when everybody thought the sun was god, would you have fought for it as hard?... and when everybody died to reach the stars, would you have stopped just short of mars?... and when everybody sang of love and peace, were you the chasing a golden fleece or stepping double time to stay in line... will everything be fine, i say, will everything be fine - you must be out of your mind, to sit, and read these words when you could be doing anything (which is why i appreciate you giving time and attention to me here so much more than words will ever be able to say, but then, if you don't know me by now, and all that jazz)...

happy birthday to you
happy birthday to you
happy birthday dear pj
happy birthday to you
in one minute :)