hippy new year, all y'all who is honeybears not haters.

and please all ya'll honeybears get nestled in warm and safe before the guns start.

i don't remember the words but the words are like the prelude and the feeling
is like the coda. i think i got the feeling.

it matters what you say
but only if it captivates me
and captures the feeling 
then when the feeling comes
the words just float away

i don't remember the words but the tune we hum sounds right.

     i so happy to hold my lil  fen again.

i couldn't remember what the sign said, i just remember the human scrawl, the useless urgency.

   oh! my winter honeybee!

i saw a sign said don't die twice, buy life insurance. then another in the spindly trees by the railroad tracks, handwritten, the urgency, the uselessness. 

you can always count on certain abzurdly potent americans to fuck with freedom.

    sure we all get cross sometimes trying to get across.

whilst me and sam was talking fen lifted his leg and streamed the coffee table books. but we cant be too mad for while he may be moody and eccentric he not evil like the 3 haters.

distrust of grammar is the first requisite of philosophizing.

                                                                                     -ludwig wittgenstein.

not disappointed.

   you can barely see them but i want you to see six white swans in the sky over the water.

we have too much power, too much money, too many guns, too little love, but i know we don't have too much time. ice fossil.

yesterday i was running on the beach with mister thinking laughing why are people so scared of death when we never die, is it true we never die, i know people who are dead, but only in a sense, yet i still feel we never die, maybe it's just me.

language is so ordinary it's mad, its madness redeems it from the ordinary.

philosophy in the modern world must be in touch with madness and the uncanny. we use language but don't trust it. we live in society not of it.

thinking is a spiritual struggle related to the bodily one.

missing you.

where's your girl, mister?

 

 

i'm sorry, but she's gone off with two other dogs.

but she still loves you, and she'll be back.

i feel so sexy, part 1.

 

 

 

i feel so sexy, part 2.

it was a fine morning. mister ran up to a girl and she smiled and petted and said i don't think he's s'posed to do that. do what, i asked. run up to people, she said. oh, he assumes everyone's friendly like him i said mild frostily. and shut your judging hole, i said, sotto vocelly. 
then we stepped lightly over the ground the 3 haters trod on us last week and reached the blessed happy birders on the island who pointed out a longeared owl dozing in a pine, with a murder of crows gathering around cawing.
then the long beach of ectasy and dune and back to a sparse and lightsome civilization of random familiars voicing happy new year softly and sincerely.

a good doug dog day.

 

maybe i think too much but something's wrong.
there's something here doesn't last too long.
sometimes i can't help seeing all the way through.

hello, it's me,
the runt


for comet.

                                                            even if we don't know what it means.

what now. continue to trace the spirit of radical poverty in philosophy through aesthetics and leaps of faith.

in the back of his mind mister will be looking for r. and in his walk.

for now r. is part of his world.

 he has tasted her face and now he is on her scent for good.

 she is a dream in four dimensions and six senses for mister. she is the dream of his reality.

can you make something just as it is or is it ever just something like it.

the morning of my love

i'm sorry i dint say goodnight my love
good morning my love.

how can i be in accord with laws i do not understand 
as they do not relate to, only impinge on, me.

    

you have to question evident things as obeying a rule in times of great intellectual stress.

when we talk about archaic societies
whereof we can't
speak of our own.

the effort to express things you can't speak about is no effort at all for the silent who
don't feel the need to express things beyond speech and are expressive in their being of what is needed to be. the effort to express things beyond speech is like the effort to understand birds and ultimate silence.

what i can't talk about i must pass over in silence
i must leave it therein silent  
i must be silent there i can't pass
i have to make silent marks
from that silent world
traces so that like a scent that recalls
you may find me

use to be lonely cep for copp. now we both lonely for r.

g. said if the pain stops it means the infection killed the nerve and is now burrowing into my bone and thence to my brain hence making me more insane. 
i hate dentists very much. dentists charge exorbitant prices and in the past dentists have caused me much pain and expense and actually created problems. so they are one problem in the back of the mouth of my problem. the other problem is one tooth is all teeth and i fear everything is disintegrating in me as in society. and how can a dude like me trying to live simply and off the evil grid afford such gridwork? these are just thoughts and not solutions. for the moment i am blessedly painfree and have had no motrin since 8am yestiday. i know i am insane. they say if you know you are insane then you are not, and emily says much madness is divinest sense, but i know i am truly insane and with addled sense at best.
you can skip this part it's boring.

gingerbread house collapse.

 comet and his ex-curious george.

he did it.
 

but we'll share the rewards.
 

nuff said? ok.