remember candora?

yeah well i just might be up all night just to spite all the people who don’t care cuz i’m stubborn like that and use the insensitivity and apathy and even cruelty to inspire me to be stubbornly self-servingly self-challenging (only slightly self-destructive) cuz the danger and risk of pushing the body past limits is what makes life the thrill ride it can be just like climbing the mountain because it is there or putting hot colors in your hair or jumping off a bridge on a rubber band or building a castle out of nothing but sand…

just like climbing the mountain because it is there
or putting hot colors in your hair
or jumping off a bridge on a rubber band
or building a castle out of nothing but sand

yeah, that’s the ticket out of the sticky wicket of doldrum diving and just surviving to begin thriving in life arriving at sweet nirvana because you wanna understand desire can take you higher when you let it inspire and embrace your fire when you really care you can start to share the beautiful high of just knowing why you are being you to yourself be true beyond all clichés you make happy days and enchanting nights by using your rights to choose to be free from insecurity and fear of everything as if you were king a good king a nice king a strong king a wise king who knows the way to peace and happiness is to challenge yourself to do your best so you can know inside that you will not be denied and you can take true pride in knowing what makes life a thrill ride…

just like climbing the mountain because it is there
or putting hot colors in your hair
or jumping off a bridge on a rubber band
or building a castle out of nothing but sand

nothing but sand… nothing but sand… nothing but sand… life is… nothing but sand…

yeah, life’s a beach and then you die, cha cha cha… when the people in the real world around me don’t care, i come here… i come here… when the people in the real world around me don’t share, i come here… i come here… when the people in the real world around me don’t know how i feel what i want or why my smile grows, i come here where i can care and share, even when nobody’s here (even when nobody’s there)… i come here to remind me i’m aware… love is everywhere, as is despair… and you choose what is real for you and what you share… here i share, here i care, here i’m here… when there’s no one anywhere near, i am here, i come here, i come here…

and loving every minute of it…

so what’s up dude?... i mean, what are you up to?... getting down with your bad self?... hurting so good?... exploring the extremities of linguistic confabulations? (oh wait, that’s me… but then, you’re the one reading, so maybe it’s you too… omigosh, are we… sharing?... are those goose bumps you’re wearing?... well don’t believe everything you read, after all, next they’ll be telling you to paint your fat brown and sit in a freezer and you’ll lose weight…

and now, for the next random thought (did i just nod off?... what?... where did that thought come from?), cauckahoo or cauckahoop, that is the questions… where it is one or the other, that is redundant… but at least we’re not zarbads… yeah, zarbads are those creeps who link stuff to the press cuz they have no respect for privacy and know most people are into masturbatory fantasies turned on by watching other people’s misery (or naked, physically, emotionally, or psychologically, you see… the crowd gathers ‘round gawking shamelessly, car accident or humiliation, it’s that adrenaline rush sensation that comes from thinking better you than i when the bomb drops out of the clear blue sky)…

so how’s it going bro?... i mean, what do you know?... what’s up with your show?... how does your garden grow?... the unit… the fringe… the dollhouse… the binge… the rumour… the twinge… the comma… the hinge… you could have been, you should have been, you would have been the fire… or the singe… yeah, you could be the life of the party or you could be the puppet shark… or even, a… land shark!… and then, one might as the burning question, was chevy chase ever as funny as robin williams?... or, to be more specific, who was the most amusing saturday night live person… character or actual actor-type person?... well, that isn’t the question, but it is, as Johnny five would say, a poser… now isn’t it?...

there is really so much seriousness and random RealTime™ real life rambling waiting in the scribble files for uploading here, there, and everywhere babble appears in my web world, but here i am creating whatever this is as if there is nothing to do, editor-wise, and that reminds me of my longing, my pining, my dream of finding a word-lover with the skill, patience, strength, stubbornness (stubbornness?... oh my, not that again)… jonathan winters started it all, you know… or was that w.c. fields?... maybe, but steve martin seems to have taken the twelve steps a little too seriously (i mean, he was much funnier when he was younger, aye, but that’s just one maniac’s opinion who believes in free-range comedy… the mind has no boundaries, after all)…

but do you really get craig ferguson?...

yeah, name dropping’s da bomb… imagine saying that on a plane, you might get arrested… imagine Donald trump yelling you’re fired in a crowded movie theatre… better emphasize the d, duh… and somewhere in the mind of the fool there’s a voice wondering (not actually saying, you see) if all this would be absolutely hysterical spoken (presented, performed, actually) with just the right comedic timing and then, as with any revelation, the voice laughs and realizes that anything is absolutely hysterical spoken with just the right comedic timing… shhhhh, now you’re telling secrets...

remember when we had late night masturbatory fantasies?...

when did comedy replace sex, anyway?... is it natural for the sense of humor to replace the libido somewhere along the lifeline?... wow, a serious question?... well, only from the libido’s perspective, i suppose… or the genitals, perhaps… the skin is the largest sex organ, you know… physically, that is… what?... you ask… what does that mean? (physically, that is, that is)… well, the largest physical sex organ is the skin, yes, but the largest sex organ?... anybody?.,.. anybody?... the largest sex organ is, of course, the imagination…

of course it could be a guitar or anything, after all… even an orchestra… but organ is somehow more, oh, titillating, somehow… come on baby touch my organ… baby you can drive my organ… i want to hear your organ deep inside my ear… oh, that could be awkward… wasn’t that a family guy episode?... but what does worldwide pants mean, really?... it mean, truth be told, that there is almost nothing on late night tv anymore… not even decent reruns… just sadly patronizing infomercials… consumerism loves company, or something like that… much better to play the organ…

has anybody touched you the way you are touched in your dreams
you know what i mean
has anybody touched you in the way that melts you like ice cream
you know what i mean
has anybody touched you in the way you know when you touch yourself
and make yourself scream
has anybody touched you in the way you want to be touched
like no one’s ever seen
you know what i mean
you know what i mean
the way you’re touched in your dreams

well, i can do it if you really want me to
let me, know you,
let me, show you,
let me, touch you,
let me… and it is my gift to you

wow, this is almost remembrances of behind the candoor, isn’t it?... yeah, wish you were here if you really know what i mean… maybe you want the pope to wash your feet, i mean, it takes all kinds of kinky to make up the new world order, after all… like a humpback whale swimming around new york city, you can be turned on by whatever turns you on, your choice, whether you know it (or own it) or not… and if you know, if you really let yourself know, then you are halfway there… the other half is doing it and then, sharing it doubles the intensity, even exponentially increases it when you take it to the limit one more time and then, reach beyond, and you know… life is the thrill ride… understand?... life is the thrill ride made of nothing but sand…

remember candora?...