"The important thing is not to stop questioning. Curiosity has its own reason for existing. One cannot help but be in awe when he contemplates the mysteries of eternity, of life, of the marvelous structure of reality. It is enough if one tries merely to comprehend a little of this mystery every day." ~Albert Einstein.

"...dusk"

Warm and humid November dusk in Brooklyn.

Climate altering faster now.

Took a walk and saw the three quarters moon.

This between the trees and buildings.

Evening an hour sooner.

Watch this it's two minutes long.

It's cool weird and makes good sense.

 

Things are so murderously evil, and shit in the world that coming to this fucked up country sounds like a good idea. Sort of like fleeing Poland in 1942 to go to Alabama. Btw I went to the fucking Stats for the first time in a few months. There's 647 of you here today.

You have nothing better to do? ...that, and welcome.

 

I just invented a cult/religion/hobby. 

Da Lawd who breathed Fire, and Dreams into the Void hath come to us. Seems the Holy kid was born to a Black Asian Mexican crack whore. Birthed on a couch in a fucked up motel somewhere in San Diego. This on November 7, 2012. The little savior will be 10 tomorrow. Who da fuck knows where his dad is...dead or in prison. Anyway, he don't matter. 

Tonight, is Edwardo Eve. Tomorrow is Edwardo Day!

Praise His Name!
Edwardo Darnell Keong. Lord of Hosts! ...and he don't mean maybe!

For he will bring Love, and Joy unto all the World!
That and fiery vengeance down upon the false lawgivers the wrongly rich the tormentors, and other assorted assholes that have given everybody nothing, but trouble. This kid is cool, but 'this' time he means fucking business.

Watch the Skies comrades ...watch the skies.

 

"...dream"

A sunless world night eternal night. Ruined city. I sat on a pile of bricks watching huge dirigibles. Vast floating cities silent as they floated by.

Silent burning. They sailed over me one after another bright flaming clouds. Burning but not consumed.

"...Psalm of the Hungry Child"

The "City Dept. of Old Farts" thinks I'm nuts so sent me to a Shrink. This while deciding which Geriatric Gulag to deport me to. The doc' is a mid-thirty-something with turquoise hair, and 1980's jewelry.

She asks how I feel. "Swell" I haven't foamed at the mouth or shit myself in weeks now. Although I just had a dream where I was being chased down the street by bed springs." She takes notes nodding calmly. Ms. Turquoise wanted to know what sort of meds I'm on, and if they're effective.

"A bunch, and more or less. I mean it stops me from jumping out of windows or slashing my wrists...again." 

She lifts an eyebrow..."Again?" "Yeah." I show junior my scars from various boyhood attempts. What a mess. I never got it right. Sure I learned how later but won't tell you as a public service. It was about this time them floating Angel clutching teddy bears showed up again. They came through the wall above the shrink. I decided not to mention them. I'm asked if I've ever had "urges of violence?" The Angels start weeping. "Violence...sure. I mostly dream of kicking the bloody crap out'a bullies’ neo-Nazis and the IRS." I warm to the subject by going into medieval detail. Vats of acid piano wire woodchippers heavy objects dropped from great height. It’s raining Angel tears. If she felt them she didn't let on. Anyway, I ask if she could do me a solid, and slip me some morphine. Love's that Morphine! She changes the subject wanting to know if I was abused as a kid. Gimme a break what kind'a question is that. You kidding who wasn't? It was like the worse parts of the Bible. You want details watch Jerry Springer re-runs. I mentions how I could use a pastrami hero about now. She looks up from her notes, and sez, "...you associate your memories of abuse with food?" I tell her I was hungry all the time as a kid. Mostly for kindness and safety. It was a childhood Apocalypse. What with getting beat up terrorized robbed and humiliated by bullies everywhere all the time. I decided to turn the tables...I do this to shrinks. "What's the worst thing that's ever happened to 'you'?" A pause then she sez... "I was raped" Silence....... Christ on a blind pony. ‘This' is the worst thing that can happen to a human being. I mean other than waking up an Orthodox Jew in Dachau in the winter of 1943. I got ‘done’ too. Gang raped. Three big kids at day camp took turns fucking me up my 11 year old ass. I screamed. They said: "...you can scream all you like". I did. Nobody came. Just like prison. Like them floating Angels I kept this to myself. After a bit my doctor tells me I'm not crazy. She sez, “I'll up your dosage, and throw in some Valium." She closes her notebook. 

Sez she "I think we're through for today." Stay Tuned. (Like all my stories this is part history part fantasy. The major shit happened. Like I say think of these as docudramas.  Makes it easier to live with.)

"...work"

Soul to brush stroke.

Dream to pencil tip. Ink as living vines. 

So much work to do.