and then we left for bikies. 1:15 pm
and now we listen to ramschackle glory. 3:10 pm.
caw caw, says the crow outside my open windows. it’s in the 50’s, and it smells like me in here. my little stanky cave needed a freshening. that it got.
so, i have offers, but they’re all half-assed offers. exactly zero people give a fuck about my comfort and health. ok, one. one people. who can do something about it. i know, i’m nobody’s dependent. i’m society’s dependent. i don’t even get food stamps. why is that, exactly? only because nobody cares. or, nobody wants to go into a business arrangement with someone they consider crazy. well, except me. i don’t believe that anyone is actually crazy. unless your non-stop violence makes you that. could be. ah, but the dark side has its perks. shout and freud. we’re repeating ourselves now. good.
quit describing ideal systems. start building them. fine, don’t hire me. let me continue to be homeless and enslaved to the unspeaking faithful. they are not as addicted to these globalized waste-streams as you think. we could produce, conserve, share, or scrap much of this, in-house.
this http://youtu.be/cyWgPsoE_cg is crazy good, says me.
many people, i sorta understand their motivation. you are mysterious. dangerous? heh. fear-inducing. takes one to know one, i say. what? excacktly. who lets you anywhere near a keyboard? dictator do. he like makes us do it. our life isn’t ruined enough, he’s all. but we have fun when he’s passed out. whatever. fuckin’ laziest, that guy. bike ride in sunny fifty degree weather early this afternoon. i worked up a sweat. and i didn’t eat before, and i’m now on my second bowl of stew. had less of the spices i’d usually use, but
god save http://youtu.be/yuundf4PvFk pat the bunny
pat, you’re now mashing with the jazz show that manages to make jazz boring and repetitive, and uni-dimensional. mostly. am i still prejudiced against jazz? no, you’re picky about it. different. pick your own jazz, internet wizzzrrrrd.? puh, like that requires spinning around to off the radio with my toe. i thought you were gonna sew tonight? we still might. cool yer jets. bunko. mr. banjo belly-button. whoa.
i don’t know what it all means, sally, but we don’t know anyone by that name. we must. someone on twitter? i don’t think so.
don’t pigeon-hole me, self. uh oh. http://youtu.be/A5jI0IbdDxA we might not get sewing done tonight now. hmm. subtitles? heh. this shit rules.
kung fu makes me practice. meatbot flail.
it is ironic and sad to me when the select few who have been selected, or who select themselves (2:32 pm, Tuesday, November 08, 2011) to be “in charge” of something that affects all of us tell people to stop complaining. if that is your response, step down. some of us are not overwhelmed by including all of these elements into the design process, and most of us recognize that they are essential.
it seems to me that anyone with a house who isn’t sympathetic to the homeless condition ought to learn. or the jobless condition. or the foodless condition. if you aren’t putting every jobless person to work in that huge centrally located space every day, you’re not very efficient at distributing power. oh, that’s just it, isn’t it. you aren’t distributing power. you’re using the same top-down, dictates from the fascist system that has allowed for-profits to run rampant. regulations are the protections that the people put in place to protect their physical selves from the weapons and harmful things that profit will, has, and does create on a daily basis. each and every one of you must choose not to participate in that. as long as a single person is allowed to benefit from violence (interest), none of us are safe and clear of anything. this virus is embedded on your very brain. it is woven into your genes, it is one of the strands of your DNA. it is because you know how to accept this violence that you miss it on every level. it is your demon. it is your ghost.
tv makes me stabby/yelly/bitey. don’t ever send me clips of tv. i will watch them, and you will receive the brunt of my annoyance. you’ll be expecting a front-on attack, but simultaneous to that, our nano-soldiers will detach all our clothes from the back, so we’ll just be standing there naked in front of each other. that’s always fun.
so each of us are a business. early on. i’m thinking like age 5. that’s a whole other discussion, i suppose. as if we don’t include those. heh. we’re put into the database, and our actions are tracked. each interaction, a community rating is being formed.
oh, for fuck’s sake, if i didn’t want to have sex with you i wouldn’t have sat down next to you in the first place. what does that matter. it’s what’s going through my mind right now. i think about sex a lot. more than people are comfortable with. the sexual repression of this horrible place is probably the most torturous to all of us. condemnation of others actions, no matter what they are? that is no way to run a social interaction! and why do you continue to so stringently believe the planet capacity requirements of those who make war and death implements for a living? of course they’re going to say that! those are the big lies, because they misassume an absence of health. add health to the equation, and the sky’s the limit.
you must reprogram yourself from the ground up. it doesn’t matter how. if you’re one of the people, relatively speaking, who only reads 50+ star tweets, you really don’t have any right to complain. who digs in? the authors. the reporters. the addicts. the information junkies. yes, lawyers also. of course, all of these have the option, when taken from a job sense. there are people that occupy all types of jobs around planet retard slave that are not essentially those jobs, and who really ought not be there. if the system functioned healthfully, as it claimed, this would not be possible. but, lying being the course in business and power struggles (omission being the most common), we all see bureaucrats running all sorts of organizations and budgets.
we videotape all meetings. we tag each other, real-time, with things like evasive, violent, we report/record when they giving the silent treatment to one who wishes to speak. when they do so, they are removed from the facilitator position by the database. consensus fixes a lot, but the combination of technology and consensus could teach a large group of people about healthy interaction in a short period of time. strict, immediate consequences for infractions will train us onto the same page. this is a problem of logistics, not philosophy. you train your designers as cogs, and there won’t be a cohesive machine. this is another need/requirement for transparency. full, unfettered, real-time transparency.
we strip you naked, and put you in the middle of a mostly darkened room. we sit in the dark and tell you the truth about yourself until you break. then you are warmed, washed, and put to sleep in a warm clean bed amongst appropriate warm critters. i suspect when i go through this process, the pile of people and animals in which i will rest will resemble the contents of noah’s ark and multi-generational benetton ads. my sister collected them from magazines. magazines are like still tv. more terrifying, being available in visible piles. i used to collect those.
Alan Watts says, [to our society,] “expressions of physical love are far more dangerous than expressions of violence” he’s a smart guy. another one is called “never watch the television.” and i am tending to agree with it. “you’re played like a harp.”
i have eaten toast today. it is cold and rainy outside. my destiny is watching Alan Watt on [sports] the internet. alpha state. we agree to be sane. ha. the commentators think these (watt and watts) are two different people. i don’t know what to think.
I’m watching Derrick Jensen now, but i think he confuses taking responsibility with judgment of our participation in the consumer end of the process. It’s in the playlist war. he talks about a lot of things. he’s not very optimistic, and i agree with most of what he says. much like most authors, he doesn’t expand as much on what “resisting” or “fighting back” is. local food seems to be a last stronghold. Monsanto has continued the trend of decimating/deforesting the planet, at the seed level. he discusses that, too. he also address access to land.
ahahahahahaha. you are way too mean of a drunk for us not to be family. related. whatever. oh, you wanna be like blood brothers? like movie style? i’m far too good at survival to make almost killing myself a thing, but we could like make a sharp pointy thing and like high-five it at the same time. our bloods would inevitably mix, as if they haven’t already. i have no fear of your reality, nor of all the things you fear that are a part of some future imagined reality. get out of your head, terror-bot! or stay. don’t gotta yell about it. oh, apparently you do. that alone should tell you something. civilized animals can communicate without making a sound. the time of the brutes is come to pass. spoke the raven, nevermore.
whenever i think i ought to read the news of the world, i start writing. my shit stinks plenty, but relative to your processed gmo carnivorous barely-ever shits, mine smell like roses. ok, beans rice and paprika. they packed all the other spices i use. they’ve never acted like we were a unitary household.
as a violence hunter, i go into this place of terrified shock and fear. utter paranoia. then i search for, attract, bring out those loving souls who are all, “goddDDDAAMMIT!!!! QUIT FEELING NOT SAFE!!!!” and i’m on my way out the door laughing. awakening dictator is useful for a variety of reasons, but it’s dangerous if you’re not me. dictator is the most contemplative protector i have yet to run across. when you stop watering plants, they send their roots deeper to find enough water. this could save them later in the season. so they tell me. sounds like that loses a lot of energy, and how does restricting essential processes do anything but cause injury. healed areas are stronger than the pre-break point, but less sensitive as well. sometimes numb.
unless he’s physically/emotionally broken/exhausted, he still puffs his chest to push me away to end a hug. in one sense, it’s a mechanical means of separation. in another, it’s his statement of disapproval, of inappropriateness, or maintaining his manly appearance. you’re the only one who gives a fuck.
here’s the thing. i don’t believe in awful people. your acts are awful. you are all sweethearts. i have seen you eating, playing, and being kind to one another. get over your competitive selves, especially when you’re with those with whom you share food. oh, you compartmentalize internally also, don’t you.
i seek warm lodging for the winter months. i have an RV, with propane heater, and i would like an indoor place to park it. i was told that i’m allowed to stay here until mid-december, but he continues “hinting” at me moving my things out of here. don’t ever wonder why i want things in writing. because you’re all lying, backstabbing, over-committing sacks of crap who don’t understand the urgency of homelessness when the show is blowing. all i ask is that you quit claiming that you care, and quit giving me your smash/grab/hate advice when you have never opened your mind wide enough to begin to understand that which i love.
hypothetical, if i were to put my property under this cooperative arrangement, how would it go. we’d first establish the terms of the land trust. yep, even if it’s a 10-by-10 chunk of your yard. there will be a boilerplate contract that will work itself into the database. the types of connections we have to individuals’ or businesses’ properties will be as varied as they are. some will allow us onsite only during daylight hours. others will encourage us to build four-season human infrastructure to house work crews to completely transform the property. then, when we’re finished, we’ll all have that infrastructure to use as we see fit. it might take a month. it might take 10 years. it really depends on how elaborate we want to get. if personality conflicts arise, we can sub people out. some people gotta keep moving. my internal GTFO starts up after about a week now, amongst this adorable lot of backstabbing prudes. you don’t want me around for very long if i’m unaccompanied. if i am under the control of a skilled handler, i’m highly productive. starving, cold, and lonely? your standards of decency are so royally fucked, i can’t even talk to you right now.
goes to get more coffee. 11:15 am on Wednesday.
well, those who have offered space are not following through with anything. delays and doubts. i’m going to get all of my money out of the bank, fill up my rv with essentials, and drive south. i don’t even have a place to park my car. this planet is so heartless. it makes me ache. why do we have to go through this every time. why must you crush pleasant expectations that you created in the first place?
that’s not what happened. doubts are little no’s. yes, everyone always back off and turns them into questions, but the harm has already been done.
you are always free to invite me again, but your inaction and my non-pursuit means the offer has expired. it’s still snowing.
i was re-invited, with conviction. third light flicker. better post this before i lose my connection.
see ya on the flipside,