Saturday, August 31, 2013


Read this blog for reasons aesthetic. Ostensibly aesthetic, mind. Feel the rhythm, the pulse. Stop. Intercourse is out. Lionel is in. Seven distant moons. Let's attempt to break the bond. Suffer loudly. On stage. Eater, eating. Like corn. Seven. Distant. Moons. Value.

Everything works out. Money flows into my account, in $10,000 increments, daily. Look, look up! It's a ufo! The ufo is dumping something...wait....wait...its cash! Large wads of cash! They finally got the companies to pay their tax bill! The wads rain down on the surface and it stinks, bitter traces of speed , smoked through, pig fats, lipstick.

.....I Imagine it's my last day. I try it on for size here and there, delighting in a sense of utter freedom.Tomorrow you leave 'dis mortal coil.  Consider what one is leaving behind. Firstly, money.
Money aint required on the other side, presumably. Think on it need to scramble together the funds to eek through your weeks, keeping the dogs at bay. No debt bill can wait. It can wait....forever.. Hand over your debt to whoever is closest and let them handle it. We leave the clutter and bother, the insecurity and liquidity behind. On that last day, oh the relief. A lifting of the spirit.
Its adieu! to the media, in its entirety. Never again will one spend time feeding on toxic information. Every news item you watch is your last. You trust the world is in good hands. It isn't, and you know it.  Finally, one truly, truly knows there is nothing they can do about it. You notice how the world will carry on without you, wholly unruffled by your presence or lack thereof. Would one feel sadness? I guess that depends on how many loved ones you are leaving behind. A sadness and concern for their future, for their safety. Again, you cannot do anything about it. Perhaps the faithless would now entertain a sort of prayer unto humanity, I trust you will live on, my dears, and prosper as best you can. I have faith you will. Perhaps death is the ultimate act of selfishness.
You are leaving behind the material, and all the universal laws that govern it. This includes the action of time. On ones last day, knowing it is imminent, if ones faculties are about one, perhaps one could finally ponder the temporal and while doing so rise above its bounds, because the void is so close.
What becomes of ones memories? They vapourize. Ones ability to recollect them dies off as vital energy levels deplete. Oh the bliss. The memories dart across ones field of consciousness and disappear. Bliss!....

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