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Drama
Then there is the point when the drama is so thick you have to side step it like an actor by the audience's wishes, and ignoring their delusional desires by not thinking and simply being; so on your stage you must represent the decorum of the depraved, deprived and defamed, but the audience refuses to bear witness to your fantastic theater because they are drenched in their own self pity and they leave you because (they always leave you), and the audience doesn't understand it and they don't appreciate you for it, but they'll keep provoking you to prove it by shouting, 'I'm leaving you,' because they need you to fight for their attention, but you are limited to feeding simple minds with esoteric thoughts dissected into edible parts, so the audience's poor me syndrome hides within their myopic reality. Acceptance
Im moving forward, leaving the past in a dumpster and closing the blinds on the future.
The present is wrapped in cellophane on the stage the my reality.
Ponder the Epic of Gilgamesh
And Gilgamesh said to Doug, "Go out to the people with unselfish love and peace."
And Doug said, "Cool." And Gilgamesh said to Doug, "Let your wisdom shine among the people, and do not allow it to dim in the shadows of incredulity." And Doug said, "Cool." And Gilgamesh said, finally, "Now thank the gods for all the blessings and wisdom I have given you." And Doug said, "Who?" Dreaming Out Loud (prose)
So anyway:
I didn't have a dream about you last night (thank God). Usually when I have dreams of silky sylphs such as yourself it only means one thing: That you are not an angel sent by Cupid's malice, but a demon sent to drown me in your insignificant drama. (By the way, if I want drama, I'll turn on the tv.) So I am here, somewhere, out there making plans with the army of my imagination -- I'm not searching for some (in)animate object to "complete me." I am already complete with four arms and four legs and four eyes, too. I've made sense of my reality by shifting my paradigm, dissolving the paradoxes, and killing the body. My relationship with the environment has expanded beyond its Self, filtering out the little annoyances that most people call "life." I am the rock of my garden; my dreams are the roots that rake in new lines. You're probably curious about that dream I had last night. There were a lot of nymphs and sylphs in a population of wee folk. There weren't any gnomes, though. I thought I saw a troll, but I ignored it -- it kept whining about something or another. But those nymphs were nibble, and those sylphs were quick, so I got jacked up on patience and let them live. d.james Dissolution of the Ego
Quiero tu besa. (x-rated version)
Quiero que tu beso.
Quiero tus labios. Quiero tus piernas. Quiero que tus caderas. Necesito tu amor como una bragas mojadas debajo de una falda. (Quiero que todo mi cuerpo mojado contigo.) Ahora empieza la música: Psychic TV - "The Orchids"
Califone covered this on Roots & Crowns. Here's the live version: written by: d.mckinney 
Licensed under: Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 United States License. |
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