Just because yah monkey ass says that yah understand some shit, don't mean yo ass would do the shit, or you wouldn't think the shit was wrong! Asshole! Shit don't get bettah by not addressin the shit! Hell no! It gets bettah by our asses understandin, we fuckin human goddamnit! And as humans, we do some fucked up shit! And I'm glad tah tell yah, I understand that shit! But that shit's fucked up! For real!
Don't cost yo ass nothin tah say that yah understand some of this bullshit that's goin on! Gratis, muh fuckah tah admit some shit! But...and yo ass knows that's a big ass "but," yah have tah address the bullshit! If anothah human does some shit? Well, hell...I can understand it. But, that's some wrong ass shit! Don't be scared that anothah sorry ass human gonnah think ill of you and judge you for understandin the fucked up shit yo sorry ass finally admittin tah understandin! Shiiiit! That mothah fuckah's the problem, not chew! They tryin tah deny what's true, our fucked up behavior and the thought processes that went along with carryin out that fucked up behavior! But shit, it's not like you gonnah do some shit, or yo ass don't think the shit is wrong!
I mean, it's like ol Bobbitt when his wife cut his dick off and threw the mothah fuckah out the vehicles window, while rollin, puttin the icin on the dick snip! Now, that shit is wrong and fucked up all day long, but I'm glad tah tell yo scared ass...I understand! Shiiit! Say whatch'o broke sorry ass wants to muh fuckah! Man or woman catch their significant othah fuckin, lickin, freakin and kissin anothah mothah fuckah...The fuck!
And don't tell me no shit like, "Oh, I would tell him/her to get out of the house immediately!" The fuck you think yo ignant ass talkin to? And if that's yo pathetic response? I'm glad tah tell yah again...I understand! And you can kiss my Black ass too!
Shiiit! Yo ass ain't evah felt that sweet stranglehold of Love then! Cause I'm glad tah bust yo bubble My Dear Sweet Sistahs and Brothas, you don't pick fuckin Love! No! No! No! Love picks yo Black ass! Straight up! Ain't no choice in Love! Real Love! Sweet fine ass Love! Good Lawd! And tah witness that Sweet Fine Ass Love, fuckin anothah, givin yo Sweet Fine Ass Love to anothah mothah fuckah...fuck that! Somebody bout ready tah get shot or cut, badly! Maybe even fatally, while yah playin! And the shit is wrong all day, er day! But...I understand goddamnit!
Yo ass may have tah do some time muh fuckah! Oh, yes yo Black ass just might! But I understand! Once yo ass takes it out of that Sweet Fine Ass Love's Beautiful feelin that was imprinted in your soul and give in to its bad sibling, Hate? Then, Sweet Fine Ass Love don't have nothin tah do with the shit! Hate done took the fuck ovah and, once again, Sweet Fine Ass Love's been fucked!
And I Hate tah admit it My Dear Sweet Sistahs and Brothahs...Shiiiit...I understand that shit too!
Peace! More to come...
Wednesday, November 30, 2011
Tuesday, November 22, 2011
I Do? (Frustrated, Now Out of Love, Middle-Aged, Female, Tribes Person) 2000
Love pays dick! What do you want me to tell you.? Some pointless trite expression about how love will carry you through this life; how love is what we humans need; how love is lifelong…Shit! Like I said before, on the real, love pays dick! Bupkus! Nil! Rien! Nothing! I wish it were so easy where I could look lovingly in my life partner’s eyes all day, eat, drink, be merry and have coital activity on a regular. Oh, I wish. But wishing is for fools, which I am not. I am a realist. And being as such, I understand the reality of the situation, love don’t pay the fucking bills which are perpetually accumulating. Other people have this predisposed idea that love is easy. Quite the adverse. Love is hard as hell. True love anyway. And that’s what I am trying to tell you about, true love.
True love is about acceptance, not only of the love you have for another, but also about the love of letting that one who you love to be who they are and accepting it no matter what you have to do to continue feeling that true love of that one. Even if that means letting that ass go for awhile or a lifetime so they can spread their perspective wings and fly to whomever they want to catch air with or from other than your tired ass. To hell with it! What one does should have no basis to your baseless foundation to the true love you have for one. Because the base is always settling, readjusting. Solid ground? Puh-leeze! Your love may be a rock, granite but you would be a fool to speak for another.
And I am quite sure there are smart asses sitting up there saying, “My Love pays way more than dick girl!” Okay, pussy. Pussy, dick…what-the-fuck-ever, it pays the same. Nothing! Absolutely! One shouldn’t get rewarded to what one emotes as a human being as being sentient. We have done this shit all fucked up! When I hear people before they are even getting married talking about the bullshit of getting a prenuptial agreement. Then what the fuck is your ass going to get married for? Did you really mean those vows which you recited in front of humans and God after your stupid ass signed that prenup? People voiding a future contract even before a contract has been validated with sacred vows of marriage?
What is a bitch missing?
True love is about acceptance, not only of the love you have for another, but also about the love of letting that one who you love to be who they are and accepting it no matter what you have to do to continue feeling that true love of that one. Even if that means letting that ass go for awhile or a lifetime so they can spread their perspective wings and fly to whomever they want to catch air with or from other than your tired ass. To hell with it! What one does should have no basis to your baseless foundation to the true love you have for one. Because the base is always settling, readjusting. Solid ground? Puh-leeze! Your love may be a rock, granite but you would be a fool to speak for another.
And I am quite sure there are smart asses sitting up there saying, “My Love pays way more than dick girl!” Okay, pussy. Pussy, dick…what-the-fuck-ever, it pays the same. Nothing! Absolutely! One shouldn’t get rewarded to what one emotes as a human being as being sentient. We have done this shit all fucked up! When I hear people before they are even getting married talking about the bullshit of getting a prenuptial agreement. Then what the fuck is your ass going to get married for? Did you really mean those vows which you recited in front of humans and God after your stupid ass signed that prenup? People voiding a future contract even before a contract has been validated with sacred vows of marriage?
What is a bitch missing?
Saturday, November 19, 2011
I Am (Female, Revolutionist, Tribes Person) 2019
I am the light which shines through with its first rays of the day to cause billions to stir.
I am the voice which speaks that goes on inside your head saying throughout that same day, “There’s something wrong! Life has to be more than this.”
I am the truth which tears down the lies…
I am!
And so too are You!
I am the voice which speaks that goes on inside your head saying throughout that same day, “There’s something wrong! Life has to be more than this.”
I am the truth which tears down the lies…
I am!
And so too are You!
Et Tu Notre American Federal Government (Twenty-Four Years Old, Revolutionist, Male, Tribes Person) 2014
USA, is just the business name for America. Put any name you want to on it, it still is America. But the name, America, got put on hold for a fuckin price, a sorry ass business venture.
Let's turn this great country of America into a thriving corporation! And we'll call it, "United States of America!" Got kind of a ring to it? Doesn't It?
Just like our Conseco Field House should be named, Indianapolis Field House. Or our Lucas Oil Stadium should be named, Indianapolis stadium. Shiit! Our old Market Square Arena should have been called...Market Square Arena! Cause it was Our shit! Not a corporation's shit?! Our shit! Goddamnit!
And with the advent of the long standing business sobriquet, "United States of America," this American must deduce...They done stole and sold Our shit! Mothah fuckahs! For real! Lets get the shit back! "By any means necessary!" I heard that! Power to the mothah fuckin people! And you know that's right!
Let's turn this great country of America into a thriving corporation! And we'll call it, "United States of America!" Got kind of a ring to it? Doesn't It?
Just like our Conseco Field House should be named, Indianapolis Field House. Or our Lucas Oil Stadium should be named, Indianapolis stadium. Shiit! Our old Market Square Arena should have been called...Market Square Arena! Cause it was Our shit! Not a corporation's shit?! Our shit! Goddamnit!
And with the advent of the long standing business sobriquet, "United States of America," this American must deduce...They done stole and sold Our shit! Mothah fuckahs! For real! Lets get the shit back! "By any means necessary!" I heard that! Power to the mothah fuckin people! And you know that's right!
Thursday, November 17, 2011
Baggage Claim (Thirty Years Old, Broke Black Prophet (Name Revealed), Pre-Salvation) 1995
The same mothah fuckahs that tells yo sorry ass, "I don't understand," are the same mothah fuckahs that do understand, but for some fucked up conditioned mentality they refuse to acknowledge the shit. Why? Because. Because they are fuckin scared to see this fucked up life the way it is and scared to see what this life has formed them into. And they are scared to acknowledge the fucked up shit they have within their being.
Am I correct? Shiit! I don't fuckin know goddamnit! But that's the way I see the shit. I've looked long and hard into my psyche and just like everybody else, on this fucked up planet, my ass comes with a lot of fucked up baggage that has my name on it, Meredith Singleton Hopson. And on this carousel of life I gotstah claim that fuckin tired ass baggage. Take ownership of my shit! No need for unclaimed baggage. It might as well be empty, shit, as far as the ones that picks the shit up for me and carries my shit to the endless amounts of the baggage thrown on this already heap of refuse of a life. The fuck they gonnah do with it eventually? Open the shit up they'd be sayin, "The fuck was a muh fuckah carryin this shit round for?"
But, I, the owner knows; hence, the reason I have to claim the shit! So mothah fuckahs can learn, understand. Yo ass may think it's worthless baggage, but let me tell you about this lil tidbit here. Oh, and this shit here, you won't believe this...
Well, I'll be damned! Who the fuck knew? My ass certainly did! Best belee dat noise!
If yo ass is a crackhead, shiiit, be an ex-crackhead goddamnit! And don't give ah fuck bout what muh fuckahs say bout the shit, "Once a crackhead, always a crackhead!" If yah wannah embrace that truth...well...I'm glad tah tell yah that truth would and will be correct, you crackhead mothah fuckah! But if yah wannah change yo shit, can't nobody tell you what or who you are or who you'll be! No-fuckin-body! But, I just have one admonition fo yo sorry ass. If crack is one thousand times more addictive than these cigarettes that I smoke and have tried , and still tryin, to give these nasty mothah fuckahs up, all I can say is, sorry for your fuckin choice and luck! Shiiit! And yo ass may just be a crackhead for the rest of yo sorry ass crackhead havin mothah fuckin life! And that ain't no Beautiful thang at all! Fuckin Ugly! It don't fuckin mattah! That's yo fuckin shit! Pick it the fuck up! And claim your fuckin shit! That's all I'm sayin! Yah heard may?
Peace! More to come...
Am I correct? Shiit! I don't fuckin know goddamnit! But that's the way I see the shit. I've looked long and hard into my psyche and just like everybody else, on this fucked up planet, my ass comes with a lot of fucked up baggage that has my name on it, Meredith Singleton Hopson. And on this carousel of life I gotstah claim that fuckin tired ass baggage. Take ownership of my shit! No need for unclaimed baggage. It might as well be empty, shit, as far as the ones that picks the shit up for me and carries my shit to the endless amounts of the baggage thrown on this already heap of refuse of a life. The fuck they gonnah do with it eventually? Open the shit up they'd be sayin, "The fuck was a muh fuckah carryin this shit round for?"
But, I, the owner knows; hence, the reason I have to claim the shit! So mothah fuckahs can learn, understand. Yo ass may think it's worthless baggage, but let me tell you about this lil tidbit here. Oh, and this shit here, you won't believe this...
Well, I'll be damned! Who the fuck knew? My ass certainly did! Best belee dat noise!
If yo ass is a crackhead, shiiit, be an ex-crackhead goddamnit! And don't give ah fuck bout what muh fuckahs say bout the shit, "Once a crackhead, always a crackhead!" If yah wannah embrace that truth...well...I'm glad tah tell yah that truth would and will be correct, you crackhead mothah fuckah! But if yah wannah change yo shit, can't nobody tell you what or who you are or who you'll be! No-fuckin-body! But, I just have one admonition fo yo sorry ass. If crack is one thousand times more addictive than these cigarettes that I smoke and have tried , and still tryin, to give these nasty mothah fuckahs up, all I can say is, sorry for your fuckin choice and luck! Shiiit! And yo ass may just be a crackhead for the rest of yo sorry ass crackhead havin mothah fuckin life! And that ain't no Beautiful thang at all! Fuckin Ugly! It don't fuckin mattah! That's yo fuckin shit! Pick it the fuck up! And claim your fuckin shit! That's all I'm sayin! Yah heard may?
Peace! More to come...
Wednesday, November 16, 2011
Keep On Dancing (Twenty-Three Years Old, Male, Tribe Person's Poem To His Female Twin Flame) 1984
You are always in my thoughts.
Oh, sometimes you get buried slightly,
In my mind which is full;
Full of life's turmoil and pain.
You are how I bring myself back
To life;
To a little happiness,
For a short while.
You are my escape from this life;
Taking away life's enduring suffering.
You are like a dancer;
Who dances in my thoughts,
Then in an instant
Goes backstage
To return
For encores;
Which I applaud and encourage
With much fervor;
And you comply
To my utter enjoyment.
Oh, sometimes you get buried slightly,
In my mind which is full;
Full of life's turmoil and pain.
You are how I bring myself back
To life;
To a little happiness,
For a short while.
You are my escape from this life;
Taking away life's enduring suffering.
You are like a dancer;
Who dances in my thoughts,
Then in an instant
Goes backstage
To return
For encores;
Which I applaud and encourage
With much fervor;
And you comply
To my utter enjoyment.
Monday, November 7, 2011
The Day Doesn't Really Begin Until You Say, "Fuck It!" (Blog Author, Tribe Person, Quasi-Satirist) 2009
You know what I did this mornin, My Dear Sweet Sistahs and Brothahs? I woke up! That's the first thang My Black ass did, I woke the fuck up! Shiit, if yah don't do that first action, then what's the fuckin point aftah that? So, yo sorry ass gotstah wake up.
The second thang I did was used the bathroom.
The third and fourth thang I did was made a pot of coffee and fired up a cigarette. The last two steps are the most critical aftah the first has been executed of course. The third and the fourth action allows the brain to connect with the body, have tah plug intah this bitch befo the fucked up day begins.
The fifth action that I did was I started fuckin thinkin. Now, I'm awake, relieved myself, drinkin coffee, smokin a cigarette and thinkin. Yah see, it's not the third and fourth that's the problem. Hell no! It's that damn fifth one. The bad fuckin habit, that fuckin fifth step or action. Some would argue the forth also but...whatevah! Everybody thinks. Everybody don't do the fourth action, but that's the fuckin point.
Anyway, the fifth action, along with the third and fourth, the fuckin sorry ass thoughts came about:
"How the fuck am I goin tah pay the IRS close to 4000 dollars in back taxes with my broke ass? I wonder what My Daughter's doin right now? Damn, rent's due! The car needs a heater core. The car needs an alignment bad. The car needs front and rear brakes. I need some money for gas. Do I have enough money for the week to get me back and forth from work until I get paid? Do I have any money in the bank? I wish I could afford another pack of smokes. Gottah send this weeks child support...."
It was during the fifth action, although it's a bad fuckin habit tah think (let me tell yah), that clarity began. Because along with those thoughts of imminent insolvency bombardin my thought processes, that one lil whisper, of the various thoughts racin, stayed a constant, "But you can't do a damn thang about it Meredith. You gottah just keep pushin the fuck on." And that whisper got more and more pronounced, now speaking loudly from the fore. And with the exhaling of the final drag I was workin on, the words eased out of my mouth, "Fuck it!"
The second thang I did was used the bathroom.
The third and fourth thang I did was made a pot of coffee and fired up a cigarette. The last two steps are the most critical aftah the first has been executed of course. The third and the fourth action allows the brain to connect with the body, have tah plug intah this bitch befo the fucked up day begins.
The fifth action that I did was I started fuckin thinkin. Now, I'm awake, relieved myself, drinkin coffee, smokin a cigarette and thinkin. Yah see, it's not the third and fourth that's the problem. Hell no! It's that damn fifth one. The bad fuckin habit, that fuckin fifth step or action. Some would argue the forth also but...whatevah! Everybody thinks. Everybody don't do the fourth action, but that's the fuckin point.
Anyway, the fifth action, along with the third and fourth, the fuckin sorry ass thoughts came about:
"How the fuck am I goin tah pay the IRS close to 4000 dollars in back taxes with my broke ass? I wonder what My Daughter's doin right now? Damn, rent's due! The car needs a heater core. The car needs an alignment bad. The car needs front and rear brakes. I need some money for gas. Do I have enough money for the week to get me back and forth from work until I get paid? Do I have any money in the bank? I wish I could afford another pack of smokes. Gottah send this weeks child support...."
It was during the fifth action, although it's a bad fuckin habit tah think (let me tell yah), that clarity began. Because along with those thoughts of imminent insolvency bombardin my thought processes, that one lil whisper, of the various thoughts racin, stayed a constant, "But you can't do a damn thang about it Meredith. You gottah just keep pushin the fuck on." And that whisper got more and more pronounced, now speaking loudly from the fore. And with the exhaling of the final drag I was workin on, the words eased out of my mouth, "Fuck it!"
Friday, November 4, 2011
The Kiss (Twenty-Three Years Old Male's Letter Experiencing The First Kiss From Female Tribe Member of The Same Age) 1985
It always starts with a kiss. A feeling unexplainable. A breeze coming from the most unexpected time to waft in ones face when it is the hottest and most uncomfortable time of year. One smiles and appreciates the lull, the reprieve if not for a second, a little while. Never sexual in nature but one of euphoric love and splendor for the love one that kissed one so lovingly, assuredly. It was as if it was in slow motion as I watched her face coming into my direction and finally her lips met mine and the heavens opened up. True bliss finally coming to visit me and engulf me, I don’t know how long the kiss lasted but for me it will always last until eternity, until I am on my deathbed, the smile will always form on my face thinking of her kiss. Her lips so succulent, tasty, full, pink and so juicy, like savoring an excellent peach, strawberry or any kind of fruit ripened to perfection, at the height of its age. Then I opened my eyes and she peered through me, perusing my soul and I saw the knowing smile that she was pleased with what she had witnessed peering into my being. And she kissed me again and I melted away onto another planet of existence. Nothing mattered, only her kiss and her presence. A wonderful drug of emotion that I was instantly addicted to. I didn’t want her lips to leave mine, her sweet breath and soft lips, parting my lips softly with her tongue and exploring as did mine.
Thursday, November 3, 2011
It's Only A Matter Of Time (Twenty-Nine Years Old, Broke Black Prophet, Pre-Salvation) 1994
The world is fucked up! That ain't no kinda epiphany tah yah. And I sho in the fuck don't have tah say it twice fo yo Broke sorry asses tah understand. Yao Ming?
Knee deep in this shithole! And the shit is constantly risin. Pretty soon gonnah have tah tilt yo head back so yo fuckin nose won't be inhalin the shit directly intah yo lungs. Ears cloggin the fuck up with shit. But all yah doin then is buyin yo self a lil mo time until the inevitable happens...cause the shit's perpetually risin and yah have tah breath!
Eventually we all choke aftah inhalin, physically, the raw sewage into our lungs. Those same lungs fillin up with the shit. Then yo sorry ass can honestly gurgle, "I'm actually drownin in this shit!" With yo last, sorry ass, fetid breath!
Peace! More to come...
Knee deep in this shithole! And the shit is constantly risin. Pretty soon gonnah have tah tilt yo head back so yo fuckin nose won't be inhalin the shit directly intah yo lungs. Ears cloggin the fuck up with shit. But all yah doin then is buyin yo self a lil mo time until the inevitable happens...cause the shit's perpetually risin and yah have tah breath!
Eventually we all choke aftah inhalin, physically, the raw sewage into our lungs. Those same lungs fillin up with the shit. Then yo sorry ass can honestly gurgle, "I'm actually drownin in this shit!" With yo last, sorry ass, fetid breath!
Peace! More to come...
Foreigner In A Foreign Land Talkin Shit, Ain't Too Smart At All (Twenty-Nine Years Old, Broke Black Prophet, Pre-Salvation) 1994
AHHHH...a muh fuckah just gotstah breath goddamnit! Gotstah! Fuck you want me tah tell yo sorry ass? If yah ain't breathin, then cyanosis sets in...and adios muchachos! The fuck I'm doin? Writin Spanish? The fuck?! I have a Brothah that suggested to me, about my Daughter, "You need to start teaching her Spanish." Shiiit nig-gah! Name me one spanish speaking country that's doin the damn thang? I'm waitin...That's what I thought! Shit, be better off teaching her Chinese or Japanese some shit! Cause speakin Spanish ain't gonna get her any place, in Her future life, but bein possibly knocked up by somebody broke who speaks Spanish! The fuck I look like muh fuckah? People say shit that don't make two good fucks of sense tah my sorry broke Black ass!
Yo sorry ass talks tah muh fuckahs from different countries and shit. The first thing they start spittin is, how they love their country and how great their country is. Well, shit! My question, with yo no count hypocritical sorry ass is, "The fuck yo ass doin the fuck here mothah fuckah?" Talkin shit! I'm twenty-nine fuckin years old goddamnit! And I ain't, not one time in my Black ass 29 year life, had to bust ah move to anothah country, outside of this U-S-of-fuckin-A, tryin tah make a livin! Not once! But yo sorry no count foreign ass talkin bout how great yo, missin in action ass, country is and yo ass is whah, nineteen or whatevahthefuck age yo sorry ass is? The fuck you think you talkin to nig-gah? Shut the fuck up with that noise! For real! The proof is in the mothah-fuckin-puddin, you foreign quasi-elitist asshole!
And the query still the fuck stands, "If your country is so great, what the fuck yo Black, brown, white, Asian...whatevahthefuck, ass doin-the-fuck-here?!" The fuck! Muh fuckah! Talk tah me like I'm crazy! Puh-leeze!
And it is still...A Beautiful thang, My Dear Sweet Sistahs and Brothahs! Oh, yes it is! Peace! More to come...
Yo sorry ass talks tah muh fuckahs from different countries and shit. The first thing they start spittin is, how they love their country and how great their country is. Well, shit! My question, with yo no count hypocritical sorry ass is, "The fuck yo ass doin the fuck here mothah fuckah?" Talkin shit! I'm twenty-nine fuckin years old goddamnit! And I ain't, not one time in my Black ass 29 year life, had to bust ah move to anothah country, outside of this U-S-of-fuckin-A, tryin tah make a livin! Not once! But yo sorry no count foreign ass talkin bout how great yo, missin in action ass, country is and yo ass is whah, nineteen or whatevahthefuck age yo sorry ass is? The fuck you think you talkin to nig-gah? Shut the fuck up with that noise! For real! The proof is in the mothah-fuckin-puddin, you foreign quasi-elitist asshole!
And the query still the fuck stands, "If your country is so great, what the fuck yo Black, brown, white, Asian...whatevahthefuck, ass doin-the-fuck-here?!" The fuck! Muh fuckah! Talk tah me like I'm crazy! Puh-leeze!
And it is still...A Beautiful thang, My Dear Sweet Sistahs and Brothahs! Oh, yes it is! Peace! More to come...
Wednesday, November 2, 2011
Humans 'Til The End (Thirty- Four Years Old, Broke Black Prophet, Pre-Salvation) 1999
Sit and spit while the cigarette is lit, burning out without being enjoyed, annoyed by its ignored thinkers; its indulgers who have not taken a drag to lag from the memory of the mammary of birth. Purse the lips to take sips from the hips and the nipple with the ripple of the sands of time. Slime building up from the E cup causing all to hiccup because of its rare cares. Swears coming from the multitude from the minority getting the majority of the nourishment meant for all, a small infinitesimal of the call to the living. Giving misgivings at an enormous rate. Relate to the state of the past. Last for a few milliseconds. Confesses to Sampson’s transgressions. Lessons never learned from the preoccupation of self. Wealth an acme to the state of the union and communion. Pray to stay and lay for another good night’s sleep and weep about the situation of these days. Pays a huge dividend for the shit to come to a halting end, for sin never to conquer, never to win.
Sunday, October 30, 2011
Seeing Is Believing? (Loquacious , Thirty-Two Year Old, Male, Tribe Person) 1976
I often think of these people I understand as the human species: them, we, us, I. I often get a little embarrassed. Thinking about how one has the right to procreate or not. People put more time in wondering what to eat or when to get up than about considering having a child; to bring another human being into this world. The human race. Thinking we are the only species that can reason. Maybe the other animals: dogs, cats, and horses...Maybe they think they are the only species that can reason. Having a language all their own. Communicating on an entirely different level than what we can put into subjective thought. Having a mindset of the millions of Africans in their own land succumbing to slavery. Maybe a long time ago their species came to the realization not to fight against humans or any other animals that enslaves them. And we not understanding the reasoning of said animals. It is said by the scientists that the world has been here some billions and millions of years. Maybe it has. Maybe every animal on this earth at one time or another thought they were the only ones that reasons and given that reasoning one must understand another species will eventually take over what we call earth and become the only animals to perceive to be reasoning. I think one is not empathetic enough when one is an elitist and think we are on the top of the food chain.
The human species. The most laughable species on this entire earth. Thinking we have control over the other animals and elements of this environment. Understanding this world is finite and we only are fooling ourselves thinking we are rulers of this habitat. Thinking about how we are made up. I have to wonder if what the scientists call microorganisms or bacteria are rulers of this earth if one really wants to muse over the existentialistic side of life. Give into this life and world and I think we would come up with a whole new perspective of this life. One has to look at humility. Understanding one has their limits or life span one must look at the unanswered question, “Why are we here?” That trite ,undeniable, fuckin’ get on your nerves question. The question still remains the same. But, I digress, maybe it hasn’t. Maybe each and every one us have the ability to answer that question but for fear of boredom decide not to do just that. To remain silent until the final response must be asked than answered as in death. You see we must all answer that question at one point in life or in death, finally succumbing to that inescapable query. One we should have answered long ago, yet, now we must answer.
Alas, maybe that is even wrong. Maybe what we do is keep denying until the end of time, as we know it. But maybe that is kind of a play on words. A somewhat confusing statement given the fact, do we really know there is an end of time? Maybe time is relative given the individual who is looking at time. Maybe time is ongoing yet, we just keep putting limitations on this element of truth. Trying like hell a long time ago to keep on denying the question or avoiding it all together. That’s why maybe people die so young and maybe that is why people die a tragic and painful death. Maybe they realized in a certain span of time, maybe too soon, what this life is really about and with the knowledge at hand is a demonstration to all what happens to one and all who attain this knowledge.
Let’s stop right there. Lets digress just a little and maybe think to ourselves on why this little bit is able to transpire. All of this is able to take place because o f peoples selfishness. Trying to play and accomplishing the feat of creation by some symbiotic dance we call coital activity. Not being able to pull it off ourselves with some divine gift to waive perspective hand and “Poof!” Another human is born. No we have not that power. But given all that we know, (given the fact I know anything ) what one must confront given the fact of our subjective mind, which gives all of us subjective truths. But you see that is even up to argument because maybe I don’t even understand the truth, that is the truth of popular belief. Given the fact I see the truth subjectively. Maybe the truth is not subjective at all but objective. Just one-dimensional not being able to be discussed or discoursed over. Because you can plainly see if I did not see it as the latter I can not with great certainty say I am really a person or human being or I am even typing these words which I imagine someone will some day, and say, “Yes, these are words. And these are sentences. And yes, these are paragraphs. And yes, by cracky, this is an essay about reality. Or so it was perceived or not perceived by one man.” Screwy is it not?
You see reality is a cacophony of confusing ideologies and thoughts. Meshing together to make truths or in this matter perceived truths. Maybe , reality is something I imagine all the time. Making up objects, new people, places on a day to day basis. Making my intangible world tangible by shear thought or subconsciously. But if one gives into that reasoning, it would give a person pause because if that is all we are, shear thought, life as we know it ceases, and what is next? Ah, now there is a query I don’t hear too often; What’s next? To pose that question to oneself brings about thinking of the hereafter and what is next. Now we get into another question that goes along with the aforementioned query, Why are we here? So after one asks that to oneself over and over maybe in this instance they ask themselves the wrong question. Maybe the question is wrong all together. We know or at least on some conscious level we are here, given the fact you see this truth to be correct , and if we know that then why has one over and over ask “Why are we here?” We are here, so the real question that should be posed is, “What’s next?” That is the correct question to ask. The only question if one poses in an existentialist way.
What’s next? Ah do you see what power that question has. The feeling you get just by saying or posing that question even to oneself. Why are we here?, is a trite overworked dumb ass question to ask about our existence. We are here! We understand or know we are here. Or at least on the same plane metaphysically or you could not read all of this and you would not be the audience I was writing to nor would you be my truth or my reality. What next? Or maybe that is all wrong too. Because maybe after reading all that I have written about the truth we you would have to see my point , statements of truth, as being the truth, given the fact you are true to me and the fact you all are real. Confusing once one starts getting to the crust of the matter. You see we are limited in our world of truths once the boundaries of said truths have been implemented; ergo, limitations on not only what we can physically and mentally do. Lets look at that for a minute though, shall we? Take for instance maybe all of this is transpiring in our minds and we are not really doing the things that we are doing or that we do in this life we just are reaching out mentally in the universe and zappo-reenio, we create reality. People say, “Well , if I stab or shoot your ass. You will know what the truth really is!” Will I? Sure I guess on the level which we are conditioned to since birth. Sure, I have been conditioned to think or believe, if one shoots or stabs me imminent peril is cast upon my physical body and death is put into the equation. That is the mindset of us all because of the mere tunneled vision scope of the human being, “the biped.” This goes along with the earlier statement of man, as we know, is a hopeless elitist. Never thinking in another realm but on the same conscious level like their other relatives.
We are all just byproducts of some nasty genetic creation. Looking at ourselves critically, we are an ugly species, strike that, animal. Really look at the human shape and form and realize the deficiencies of the human body. Our ears, our noses, our mouths, our genitalia...One could go on and on about the human animals anatomy. Once you sit down and dissect it, one should notice how utterly ugly our bodies really are. And maybe one will start to think the other animals that share this earth with us are laughing everyday on some level about how fucked up anatomically we appear. We sit in the scorners seat and berate every animal we perceive to be ugly but we hardly ever look at ourselves and criticize ourselves about how ill shaped and ill built our bodies were made. Oh, but lets look at that too. You see to take that position is to speak about the higher power, the supreme being, the holier than holy, the boss of bosses...Allah, God...We cannot fault the human body because it was, “...created in his own image.” So as you can see given that to be the truth one would have to look at the fact God is this androgynous, amalgamate of an entity equipped with penis, testicles, breasts, derriere...on and on it goes. A mishmash of the human animal. A bisexuals dream date. Oh, don’t get all in a huff about the latter statement. Remember we are talking about truths or perceived truths. Also when it comes down to it we are speaking about opinions since perceived truths are just that, opinions. So what is fact? That is an excellent question also. We are all correct and incorrect. Right and wrong. Fucked up and not fucked up. We are the epitome of the word confusion in the flesh or in this instance, animal....
.....TO BE CONTINUED
The human species. The most laughable species on this entire earth. Thinking we have control over the other animals and elements of this environment. Understanding this world is finite and we only are fooling ourselves thinking we are rulers of this habitat. Thinking about how we are made up. I have to wonder if what the scientists call microorganisms or bacteria are rulers of this earth if one really wants to muse over the existentialistic side of life. Give into this life and world and I think we would come up with a whole new perspective of this life. One has to look at humility. Understanding one has their limits or life span one must look at the unanswered question, “Why are we here?” That trite ,undeniable, fuckin’ get on your nerves question. The question still remains the same. But, I digress, maybe it hasn’t. Maybe each and every one us have the ability to answer that question but for fear of boredom decide not to do just that. To remain silent until the final response must be asked than answered as in death. You see we must all answer that question at one point in life or in death, finally succumbing to that inescapable query. One we should have answered long ago, yet, now we must answer.
Alas, maybe that is even wrong. Maybe what we do is keep denying until the end of time, as we know it. But maybe that is kind of a play on words. A somewhat confusing statement given the fact, do we really know there is an end of time? Maybe time is relative given the individual who is looking at time. Maybe time is ongoing yet, we just keep putting limitations on this element of truth. Trying like hell a long time ago to keep on denying the question or avoiding it all together. That’s why maybe people die so young and maybe that is why people die a tragic and painful death. Maybe they realized in a certain span of time, maybe too soon, what this life is really about and with the knowledge at hand is a demonstration to all what happens to one and all who attain this knowledge.
Let’s stop right there. Lets digress just a little and maybe think to ourselves on why this little bit is able to transpire. All of this is able to take place because o f peoples selfishness. Trying to play and accomplishing the feat of creation by some symbiotic dance we call coital activity. Not being able to pull it off ourselves with some divine gift to waive perspective hand and “Poof!” Another human is born. No we have not that power. But given all that we know, (given the fact I know anything ) what one must confront given the fact of our subjective mind, which gives all of us subjective truths. But you see that is even up to argument because maybe I don’t even understand the truth, that is the truth of popular belief. Given the fact I see the truth subjectively. Maybe the truth is not subjective at all but objective. Just one-dimensional not being able to be discussed or discoursed over. Because you can plainly see if I did not see it as the latter I can not with great certainty say I am really a person or human being or I am even typing these words which I imagine someone will some day, and say, “Yes, these are words. And these are sentences. And yes, these are paragraphs. And yes, by cracky, this is an essay about reality. Or so it was perceived or not perceived by one man.” Screwy is it not?
You see reality is a cacophony of confusing ideologies and thoughts. Meshing together to make truths or in this matter perceived truths. Maybe , reality is something I imagine all the time. Making up objects, new people, places on a day to day basis. Making my intangible world tangible by shear thought or subconsciously. But if one gives into that reasoning, it would give a person pause because if that is all we are, shear thought, life as we know it ceases, and what is next? Ah, now there is a query I don’t hear too often; What’s next? To pose that question to oneself brings about thinking of the hereafter and what is next. Now we get into another question that goes along with the aforementioned query, Why are we here? So after one asks that to oneself over and over maybe in this instance they ask themselves the wrong question. Maybe the question is wrong all together. We know or at least on some conscious level we are here, given the fact you see this truth to be correct , and if we know that then why has one over and over ask “Why are we here?” We are here, so the real question that should be posed is, “What’s next?” That is the correct question to ask. The only question if one poses in an existentialist way.
What’s next? Ah do you see what power that question has. The feeling you get just by saying or posing that question even to oneself. Why are we here?, is a trite overworked dumb ass question to ask about our existence. We are here! We understand or know we are here. Or at least on the same plane metaphysically or you could not read all of this and you would not be the audience I was writing to nor would you be my truth or my reality. What next? Or maybe that is all wrong too. Because maybe after reading all that I have written about the truth we you would have to see my point , statements of truth, as being the truth, given the fact you are true to me and the fact you all are real. Confusing once one starts getting to the crust of the matter. You see we are limited in our world of truths once the boundaries of said truths have been implemented; ergo, limitations on not only what we can physically and mentally do. Lets look at that for a minute though, shall we? Take for instance maybe all of this is transpiring in our minds and we are not really doing the things that we are doing or that we do in this life we just are reaching out mentally in the universe and zappo-reenio, we create reality. People say, “Well , if I stab or shoot your ass. You will know what the truth really is!” Will I? Sure I guess on the level which we are conditioned to since birth. Sure, I have been conditioned to think or believe, if one shoots or stabs me imminent peril is cast upon my physical body and death is put into the equation. That is the mindset of us all because of the mere tunneled vision scope of the human being, “the biped.” This goes along with the earlier statement of man, as we know, is a hopeless elitist. Never thinking in another realm but on the same conscious level like their other relatives.
We are all just byproducts of some nasty genetic creation. Looking at ourselves critically, we are an ugly species, strike that, animal. Really look at the human shape and form and realize the deficiencies of the human body. Our ears, our noses, our mouths, our genitalia...One could go on and on about the human animals anatomy. Once you sit down and dissect it, one should notice how utterly ugly our bodies really are. And maybe one will start to think the other animals that share this earth with us are laughing everyday on some level about how fucked up anatomically we appear. We sit in the scorners seat and berate every animal we perceive to be ugly but we hardly ever look at ourselves and criticize ourselves about how ill shaped and ill built our bodies were made. Oh, but lets look at that too. You see to take that position is to speak about the higher power, the supreme being, the holier than holy, the boss of bosses...Allah, God...We cannot fault the human body because it was, “...created in his own image.” So as you can see given that to be the truth one would have to look at the fact God is this androgynous, amalgamate of an entity equipped with penis, testicles, breasts, derriere...on and on it goes. A mishmash of the human animal. A bisexuals dream date. Oh, don’t get all in a huff about the latter statement. Remember we are talking about truths or perceived truths. Also when it comes down to it we are speaking about opinions since perceived truths are just that, opinions. So what is fact? That is an excellent question also. We are all correct and incorrect. Right and wrong. Fucked up and not fucked up. We are the epitome of the word confusion in the flesh or in this instance, animal....
.....TO BE CONTINUED
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)