democrats are fed up with democrats too.

i know this is not breaking news

ouroboros, obombaland. i miss the black rat snake and hope it is happy 

on wooded island. 

i wish i had thought of writing glen ford of black agenda report 

asking for his comments on obombaland. 

well i won't speculate, i know what glen would say. 

he was hip to the con from the beginning.

underworld obombaland. 

i cross obombaland to get to the farmers market on saturday.

through the underworld of obombaland 

the pumps are pumping water night and day 

so he may build his conning tower 

in the land he claims as obombaland. 

we have to live in obombaland though obomba does not.

 city creature j. who came inside to live some twelve years ago and never left except to go to grandma's or the animal doctor and frequent slips out to the elevator space otherwise content to live in a box with windows.

 the cats make me a better person. i keep looking at the place where the black rat snake lay under the train track arcade. before, i saw the ouroboros drawing. i was focused on the snake and didn't see that the snake was just below the drawing. penny lu just came in. i was going to sleep more. i can try to be a btter person. i left the e out and then thought bitter. i've been a bitter person. better now but by degrees, i don't know if people would agree. anyway it's early but now i rubbed penny lu's head and she's drooling and purring and reaching for my hand and i'm hungry. there's different hungers but the physical is first.

i was looking for the ouroboros drawing and i didn't find but found this ouroboros.

it's the oldest allegorical symbol of endless return.

 remember that ad i think it was a ronnie raygun ad for the so-called war on drugs? showing an egg with a voice over saying this is your brain and then the hand cracking the egg into a frying pan says this is your brain on drugs? i thought of that ad just now when i was thinking about capitalism and so-called democracy. 

 i don't get how they can keep building line 3 while the lawsuits are still pending to prevent the building of line 3 and meanwhile they pay the law to arrest the water protectors protesting the illegal building of line 3 and no one can possibly explain this to me.

 

word of the day: conciliatory.

i miss the lightness of my lost glasses. these old ray bans are heavy,

pressing on the bones of my honker. i feel lighter without the life

of pessoa though hovering over me a particular vastation, undone. all 

those personas, and he himself a chronic ghost. kind of a hero though, 

his life an inward quest of the self without self, inventing surrogates 

endlessly until finally giving up the ghost and being one ordinary 

nobody. i'm glad it's cooler. a body was found by the harbor. an abandoned 

boat was found last week. i got a new book by the writer of american war, 

omar el akkad. i got leos carax boy meets girl, jacques deray la piscine, 

wojnarowicz and the simpsons movie. 

 

 the economic elite have taken over public institutions. the overlapping disasters of corporate capitalism are pushing us all to the brink of collapse. 

 today we find again the connection and the reason for living. today we assert our fundamental and essential bond with life.  

 boycott divest and sanction israel and u.s. occupation and state terror. end the complicity oppression and human rights abuse. 

 so long, glen ford. he spoke the truth about the corporate american duopoly, the misleadership of obama, and the endless imperial american war on earth. there will be an exodus from the corporate party during the collapse.

                          word of the day—inscrutable. 

 somebody said we had like twelve years to act, and that was like, what twelve days ago? time's speeding up baby, twelve years? and what then? we may not have that long to live.

i, what's truly i, am the center that only exists

in the geometry of the abyss:

i'm the nothing around which everything spins,

existing only so that it can spin,

being a center only

because every circle has one.

i, what's truly i, am a well without walls

but with the walls' viscosity,

the center of everything with nothing around it.



bernardo soares, the semiheteronym

 

 nicholas named him comet because of his celestial coat and his flying leaps, 

but now comet is bored and patiently waiting to be healed. 

 the heat dome was pressing down so i thought i might expire. i had a deep itch again in the precise spot on my left arm. i scootched ahead a few hundred pages in pessoa—goddam that biographer—makes me think less of fernando, i get the balls and all approach but a life is too much sometimes, the gravity is hard to hold, we're such freaky creatures, specially geniuses. i long to load it back to the lib. the heat was slowly lifting in here and then came the wind and the rain hit the building like a train 3:21. up reading pessoa goddam. 

 in the west fire and drought and fish dying in the slow hot river of disease and baby birds leaping from nests dying to escape the heat dome. in b.c. one billion sea animals cooked in the sea. still they're cutting old growth and building on parkland still they're burying pipeline and fracking the waterways and blasting the earth. still they're sending robotic death machines to kill people. still the state is seething with hate and rage and lust for domination. 

 goodnight or good morning. wake up another day.

 ah, now the air is light and cool. goomo. 

the dollar says in god we trust below a pyramid with an eye 

radiating laser light beams as i recall the god we trust was money 

and some still do but few as more and more get ruined by god 

and that all seeing eye was creepy long before the nsa and the nso's

pegasus usually depicted as pure white power with wings beating

desperately to keep the beast aloft  in the depraved new world sky 

order and why we like dogs is they're not neo-anything 

they're actually good 

pagans though they don't need the word to comprehend 

and only because they live with us they hafta like nafta have money.

i'm on page 404 of pessoa. it's like 100 degrees and they're scraping and painting the fire escape. look at the stamp catalogue. i might buy the raven shirt if it didn't have forever usa all up and down the left sleeve, especially on the left sleeve, but anywhere, not on my body, thank you please. the dog stamps are shit. page 25 they put george h.w. bush underneath t. rex. all the forevers are crossed out which is presumably so you can't use them for a federal crime but i see the cross as subversive of the arrogant and increasingly desperate empire.

forever usa! (exclamation mine).

...happiness cannot be felt by someone exiled from their own faith and from their soul's natural habitat, and since we cannot pretend to be peaceful when we live in the midst of today's commotion and know all too well that we'll die.

                                                                   frederico reis

the nso group is an israeli corporation that uses malware called pegasus

to target human rights activists and journalists and their families. 

it's a state terrorist technology tool to repress and threaten people 

and suppress truth around the globe. it's the most sophisticated program

for the suppression of democracy. forensic architecture is making this

invisible network visible. and the targets are speaking out. 

and resistance is growing. 

by the way, the word of the day is fealty. 

from a historical perspective our spiritual development has lagged

behind our material development, and we're paying for that.

if humanity perishes, it will only be because the processof human 

development wasn't harmonious, and because humanity didn't evolve 

spiritually, but was driven by fear. humankind defended itself against 

the world instead of merging with it and establishing a connection with 

it. humans transformed interaction into a painful daily leveraging of 

power against one another that is irritating, useless and excruciating 

instead  of making that exchange something pleasurable. politicians we 

entrusted with planning our future were planning our destruction.

andrei tarkovsky

lin and mouna found this rat snake in the arcade under the train tracks and called me and some neighbors and we put it in a box and took it to wooded island. i think the snake is ill and will get well but at least if not it's in a nice green place with other critters.

where r. is.

where i am.

 

 as flower bob would say, it's unbereavable, but i bereave it anyway. 

 i'm working on pause before react and closure not shutdown. i'm listening to brian eno, digital violence: how the nso group enables state terror. it's fascinating that this terrible technology could become art. i'm super impressed with forensic architecture. there's a place to pause between fight or flight where one can observe what is going on inside and around one invisibly, where one can feel the invisible. there's a tuning of necessity. 

 the billionaires are not in charge, except of their politicians. the weapons industry, the u.s. empire, nature is in charge of them, fools all, they represent no one. their fate is as unpredictable as ours now, as unpredictable as nature, though they made it the way it is. the deal they think they made to rule the world? it's undone.

i had the sense of blunt impact today, maybe a warning. the air is bad and may be why my vision is dim. i didn't go to the water, not wanting to risk being on the bike riding around with machines. glad i only have lulu and i can be still and feed the cats and read pessoa the rest of the day and into the night. i think i'll make me a salad and watch tarkovsky, the mirror, tonight. 

i think the sense of dismay about what i've done and what i might have done is receding. or ebbing anyway.

 

i felt misgiving about the ending with little bear. when i saw her with ben he may have been preoccupied but my senses said he was not looking at me. after talking about it in session yesterday it was made clear that we had concluded without closure. in the last note with the photo album and severance bonus ben said he had a couple of things he'd like to meet to talk about. after the session yesterday i wrote to ask if he still wanted to talk about a couple of things, and i said i'd like to have feedback about my work with little bear over the year, positive or negative. there were a few times when he said let's meet and talk about a couple things and we did a couple times but each time i felt like something was left unsaid. now i wonder what it was.

i also realized that other times in my life things have ended without closure and i have just gone on, shut down, or angry and confused. 

ben has not responded, but when i sent messages before, or pictures, there was often a space of time before he replied. 

the thing about closure i guess is you don't always get it from the other person, and have to get it with yourself. 

how do i feel about my time with the little bear? i was conflicted, and it was a struggle, and ben and i didn't quite see eye to eye, but bear and i had come to a good place, and maybe at the time i recognized the misgiving was with ben. 

the need for closure is partly just curiosity about how he sees things, i know we are different and that was manifest in our ways with little bear. i may on a deeper level already know how he sees me, but i'd like to hear from ben.

i'd like to remain open until there is closure, even if there's not.

 the u.s. has been killing people by remotely piloted drone attack for 20 years. the killers watch on computer screens and cheer like at sporting events. they praise the national bird, the drone. they call it war porn. if a paid assassin's conscience wakes up and they expose the facts of genocidal war crime they face prison, as the whistleblower daniel hale does now. thank you daniel, i'm glad you came alive, while the mercenary state terrorist drone murder continues. war is not for democracy, it's for profit.

 i been thinking about how this land was taken from the people who lived here before, and it's being taken again from people who came after, and so on. some say there was no civilization here, it was all swamp, but you know it's a lie. we don't have much say since we don't have much money anyway and anyway what right do we have to the land. we only rent a little place built by others in the once upon a time swamp. 

some think chaos and anarchy are the same thing. that's not true. chaos is what the capitalists make; anarchy is what the artists create.

 i'm deleting pictures, a lot, but there's so much more. to delete. when you want to just keep going and why back up what should just pass on. and i have the massive life of pessoa. one life, phew. and i got a sesh in 26 mins. what am i gonna talk about. hah. it's all there it's all here it's all inside around you. open the dam. release. more and more will come.

 bear walked by with ben and nova. ben looked straight ahead. i wish i had no misgivings but i do.

 there's a long motorcycle parade heading east on the midway toward obamaland.

 and mou got pancreatitis. we knew something was up with mou after the vet extracted her tooth. she was cowering in bed and then chasing dogs and barking mad. 

 these things seem unrelated but let's just say for all our sakes everything is related and we have nothing, and everything to lose .

we want to say they had a good life. 

we want it to be true. 

for us and them.

do we know, what makes it good? yes, i think so.

we think about a good life. sometimes we wish

for another life, life we had, we dreamed, life to come.

we summon life from within us. come out we say

come out and play.

i'm sorry for your loss we say

and have a nice rest of your day.

for all their troubles we say

they had a good life

we lived for them

they lived for us.

that's what we hope 

to say anyway

for all we know

in the end

for all of us.

had to close all west windows between storms yesterday opened with a gasp. 

good journey, r. 

felt sad with comet in that contraption for carrying him downstairs. the trust in his eyes. 

everything moves. even when sitting still.

things build up and dissipate. human things gather to extract, 

humans gather to dissipate, 

like storms, but unlike.

between storms storms gather.

humans rush

this way and that.

dream of release.

 

the longer we try to get attention instead of giving it, the deeper our unhappiness.                          

                                                                   mark nepo, the book of awakening

~now the laptop is too hot, back to shirley j.

 soul hot. i want to be in the water, but all the people and streets with autopilots, i can't deal. maybe another shower. maybe i can be very still and read. r. said we were in fact made for this time. anyway there is no real alternative to what is.

 

i went to see about comet's sling contraption. he was so patient while we got flustered. we got it hooked up and made it downstairs but it was hard and i can't imagine doing it every day let alone six times a day. we thought of a winch off the back porch but had scary visions. maybe he can go back to vista and the elevator before and after surgery. 

feeling fragility and chaos. body and world. i went to get books: pessoa (oh my dog—937 pages), bolt from the blue 264 pages easy-peasy, the voice of sheila chandra, homes—poems, a breeze. but i still got 460 pages of shirley jackson. 

after the library a dip in the blue water, saw some kids i knew who grew aloof. just before, and a car flew off the drive up on the rocks and the air a haze of weed and the driver says it seemed to me ain't no little boys out here today. like me? i think. big boy got towed away. 

things happen even if we take care, but we don't hafta like nafta add to the chaos. in the collapse we need to take more care.