Just a quick hit…
It ain’t nothin without the blessing/dance…
Ambrose… It wasn’t > DROPPING the super duper tanker to make wave/power.
It wasn’t SINKING it and FILLING it with air, it was a pendulum or two or three bolted to the deck, hard a port, hard a starboard, what light from yon star breaks through the clouds of sterility/misunderstanding < the coherence of waiting for ALL to see the VISION, no one/many left behind this time +not+ a far-right call for the end of public education with/for the teaching of the corporate funny business to the chosen sons and daughters, line forms to your left cause - we lost, man we lost, hosed in the streets for the umpteenth time and I just can’t see any point in going on.
We lost.
Lost we are. [pictures please…]
No more deep and meaningful
Drop the rocker (towards neutral) trust those that await the rest. Georgie Porgie sighting over transom of Polynesian (fill in the blank in the line at the Hall of chosen Higher Edumacation), render useful by the brain trust handed down through centuries of care and understanding. Dolphins surround and Crystal Voyage me to my happy hunting grounds. Pumping up the hill on my bike, I catch that tandem pair, and sight that fine ass on the rider of the second magnitude (better half) (the cup is half full or half empty?) and strike up a merry conversation… “Momentum working against you?” “Yeah, but you should see us going DOWNHILL!” I promptly pictured THE MANY in a dugout canoe of the design that was GIVEN to US for the paddle into way outside waves and then the travel points add up, cause lord, we is flying (fall line, Nat’s Nat and that’s that) Robert Redford remake of downhill racer, but more importantly - the Whale Rider, offshore - OFF the beach* don’t come back here unless invited, I can see by your coat, my friend, you’re from the other side.
Peer (group) deep within at the energy patterns that make up the you and I, and you will see a friendly and happy building/unit that awaits the order from headquarters to spin plus/negative… you decide… AllWays… and forever. BUT don’t expect me to carry your contraption on down to the beach, I’ve been waiting, forlorn, and I can’t pull me boot straps up any more, to be held accountable for history that was pumped into me through the electrodes implanted just for the rich and famous to watch in complete amusement, tears streaming down, cable spec-ta-call, download and show your friends as the monkey dances and picks his nose or smells his own butt. Magilla Gorilla for sale.
NEWS UPDATE… ANCIENT OCEANS. The Earth had WATER on it BILLIONS (4.5 billion) of years before previously thought. Hmmmmm… Life coulda, shoulda been here many years to the nth f–king power(?) Yeah man, we are right. Those zircons from Western Australia had rounded edges, not sharp and snappy, yess-ssir. So let’s just keep watching as the warlords dig those trenches that look more like self anointed holy grounds (or) burial grounds, pour me another cup of Joe, Joe. OVER simplification, over before ASSumed.
But you know all this.
I can feel in my bones. Olduvai Gorge. Picked through and screened. Or a truckload of beakless chickens deprived of that experiential top to bottom, slot in and burn, baby, burn.
Look out into/unto the stars. It is soooo slowed down. Aren’t we just the slice-o-life that is just the pre-configured pause between breaths of the real GOD’s-A-Poppin show. You know, the real showgirls - all naked and pretty, excited to be the chosen ones to fornicate with a god. Wouldn’t you if given a chance? No more of the waiting around smoking a cigarette with Sir Elton Raleigh, waiting to get into the REAL show. Finally on THE LIST. Comes every 2,000 years. The BIG BANG, you know what the hell I mean this time. It ain’t so very deep and meaningful, but it ain’t the latest Eff Cee Ess fin tab copy, I’m so bored, boo hoo.
Are you looking at my membrane, buddy? We are just ripples in a galactic pond. Plenty of time on our hands. We can relearn the stone tools and the secrets in the blushing brides, i got wood, baby. Flex/spring. We named it right here. It’s our language, logged and lurking.
Warped space for the taking. IT CAN BE ANYTHING THAT WE DECIDE, the brain only marks concepts, not individual events and facts.