Before The Aftermath

BEFORE THE AFTERMATH

  By Roze

  Copyright 2013 by Roze

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  The Wall Street Journals

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  Government Spiderz

  We can each sense the threat in the petroleum molecules all around us and this is what troubles you. The worst of us want needlessly like the rest of us. Brothers and sisters often suffer for a cousin's needless pleasure. None are to say what one might need, yet we all know the deep chill of greed. To some degree we suffer vicariously at the throats of our long lost family and a planet’s worth of similarities. Thusly we suffer deliberately out of unity, grasping with another's hands and begging in another's voice. We have no enemy except for our own family. We have a strength which the powers that be attempt to shroud in a black mystery, yet we have the ability to set our spirits free into the light of unity as love destroys tyranny once again and for all. Liberating knowledge is why the government spiders will not allow information to flow freely. Luckily people will always have eyes and will always see and they will always have mouths to discuss what they were shown and in this way might others come to know the struggle among those who forego.

  If words worked a little better the common man could be more clever, but we're locked into the spider webs wondering whether or not to struggle. Together we could break away, individually we fall prey. I see victims remaining from days when the masses fell to themselves. For all were too timid to infringe upon another from respect of the vile disconnect, as we lay mystified in the webz.

  Government spiders build their webs in our hearts. They lay eggs in our brains. Our lungs choke on their venom wafting in on the breeze. We swallow them willingly and they live in our kidneys, spleens, livers, burners, backs, and brains. Everyday, insanity becomes more and more the reality, so make your money while the red, white, and brainwashed blue delusion persists. One day illusions will give way to dreams, nightmares, and cold harsh sobering realities, when the divine comedy enlightens us on tragedy.

  We're in debt to a world we did not design. We foolishly endeavored to sustain it for a short time. Until we eventually learned this crime wasn't our responsibility. Not this time. Not in the way it would seem. Not in the grand design. They would take what belongs to all and call it what is mine. Now it seems we had no idea we don't need a tv to breathe

  Gently remove government spiders. They are none to be toyed with, though frail by nature. Infestations. The infestation is known. I know of your infestations and you know of mine. Government spiders are waiting for us all the time. They are in your mind all the time. Government spiderz are in your mind. Gently remove them. 

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  Reziztenz Obectivez

  Remember feeling blissful when you discovered what you are. Each time it happens. Remember learning you'd been lied to. Back in school they'd told you you are stupid quarterly and you always thought you were until you got a second opinion. They tell you what to do, when to do it, what to think, and when to think. Maybe the program never took, and that's what the bad grades meant. Perspective is a matter of seeing things differently. For a while it felt like survival is all a matter of doing the best you can to be better than everyone else at being exactly like everyone else. The adults zombify you into adulthood. Locked into dogma, indoctrinated in malevolence. An idea as misguided as fallout and as bureaucratic as starvation. Rule of law is the rule of looking over your shoulder into an abyss of mechanizations boring into the heart of the one true unity like the airforce boring machines tunnel under the usa. Men become machines to black and white absolute 1's and 0's. Merciless. Mindless. Malevolent. Malicious. Malignant. Murderous. Absolute power tripping tripped out power trip zombie robot pig head machine slaves. They will steal you from you. They hold guns against you. Who holds guns against them is surely as doomed; locked together into an eternal struggle of intolerance  and aggression. Our officers are cousins worthy of our hearts, but their spirits- and their minds- are ghosts haunting our losses. Winning back the minds of the lawfully deprived is among the most significant objectives of the resistance. We also seek the bodies of the needlessly incarcerated by those who profit in human misery. We seek the physical submission of those whom profit from the death of others; no greater evil. Authority is the false authority and ‘there is no government like no government.’ Imagine. Create the world we want in our very souls in our lives. No more suffering. We must retain what the authority seeks to ascertain. They own us to the bones. Is there a freedom in this? They put the shackles upon me. The spiders are in my mind. I have always been free, cloaked in anarchy. Perhaps the world will see. So could it be for our family in captivity

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  No Threat

  The time has come to rebel. We are the rebellion. This is it. Love. Love is the movement. Love is the cause. For love of the habitat, the planet; for love of another; a brother, a sister, cousins, elders; we are in a war against money; every day we battle our greed and indeed this backward heritage. Our way of life is a slap in the faces of everyone we share the Earth with. It is an insult to ourselves even. For eons spiritual men let evil linger unabated because the peaceful way would not permit them to needlessly interfere in the affairs of others. Who can dictate the needs of another? We- poets and vagabonds, artists, revolutionaries, activists, the holy, whoever- protect the divine freedom and offer it to those whose want is great enough. For eons this was acceptable. Peace unto peace and a death by a sword unto a life lived likewise. Only now, recently, have these perils we ignore on behalf of the peaceful way become too powerful for our ranks to continue to not intervene. I come upon a massive wealth of power as a fool. I have the means, we all do, to reprogram our robot cousins, awake the sleeping giant of each other, and grow seeds of love from asbestos soil and radioactive rain. The overlord is failing. Babylon is weak. We are strong. Under the Rainbow we belong. In peace. In love. In harmony. Below and above. Centered, grounded, balanced, loved. Connected. A part. One. Here. Then gone. Able to choose what we decide to pass along. A wasteland done wrong, or a paradise revived in the darkness before dawn. I fear. I fear for all who know not what stands to be lost. If they could understand, perhaps... Why won't you admit you are wrong? How can anyone believe such outright lies? Or not care about such a crisis as this? You know there is no enemy. Trust me when I say there is no threat. There is no fear. There are only unlocked chains that keep us in bondage, beaten, bruised; by batons abused. I say enough! I say refuse! They will come for your integrity, but it is your own to possess. They will try to take your honor, but they cannot. Ignore power and it will become powerless. The rule of law is oppression. Rise up. There is a war against the next generations and we're losing. We have to resist. Your peers must radicalize. Your dearest ones stand in the way of what must come. Apathetic dear friends. Enslaved family. We've got to break out. We've got to be free. Harmony over tragedy. These are demands we must make of the mainstream. Our power is our love. Empower another. Love them. Show them the way. Peace and love. Help don't hurt. Love the haters. Appreciate everyone for being who they are. They are like you. They are like me. I am like you. We are like we. No religion, cult, or culture will ever thieve our humanity. Nor no totalitarian tyranny. If they push us, we will overcome them. Use 4 pounds to move 1,000. Add a vector.

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  Melting Flesh, Vaporized Eyez

  Radiation face bleeds tears for the losses we sustained over so many 1,000's of years. Crystals form, fall through me, and break my heart into shards and splinters that gather dust under the smoke of nuclear winters. We lost hope, we lost faith, we got plutonium, and an industry saving face, with radioactive grace and depleted uranium warfare deformed babies. Contaminated Mesopotamia, we wait for days and ages for gods and sages, an
d burning pages that never got read after eyes fell from bloody heads and corpses so long dead the spirits have sunk and fled from the surface and the dread. And though we die, the resistance lives on. We've come together to collectively grasp for liberty and justice. They will deny us. Land of the free, home of the slave. We defy the establishment and the system and the chaos which reigns over us. None with power have pure intentions and this is why it is imperative my people inherit the earth. Compassion can cure us. Nurture nature and nature will nurture you. People on glass planets shouldn't throw nukes. Live by the isotope and die by it, too.

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  Assetz

  It's hard not to wonder where the flow will wander. Destitution and oblivion are options like nuclear fission and a neighborly derision; ignoring the captions that lead them to action so you and your faction will bleed in the struggle to birth the new world and nurture her. It's you and your faction against widespread nuclear reactions. What inaction cannot entropy is life. Life is active. Life requires participation. Salvation requires meditation, not medication; government spiders at the pharmacy, what you need sometimes; what you don't want, if you only knew. We don't know what we're inhaling. We don't understand the ways we're failing, because we're winning at serious matters that are not a game. It is a struggle between life and radioactive death storms; we battle ourselves. All we see is gain and loss. What ever happened to having? In that all we have is expense. And purchases, and acquisitions, expenditures, bills, exchanges, money, chains, whips, screams, darkness, terror, pain, extreme pain, panic, horror, and finally, when the pain stops, weakness, and acceptance. Who are we to not have value? Are we not rich by owning an us? You have a you. I have a me. We're wealthy in assets.

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  Indigo

  The goal of the Indigo is remaking this world into one lacking war, trash, and processed food. Yeah. And power, greed, money, materialism, commercialism, capitalism, and so much else needs to go- religion- for there is but one true way and that is the way of the Wuji. Indigos have also been described as having a strong feeling of entitlement, or "deserving to be here." They contribute something intangible, unimaginable, tangible, and limited only by imagination. Indigos transform everyone they meet. For this divine purpose they come into the world with a feeling of royalty. They have that crazy feeling of "deserving to be here," and are surprised when others don't share it. The dismissal of the Indigos by the population at large is a great shortcoming of our culture and it is sad that we do not take the time to comprehend the Indigos. They know who they are and their true worth. Indigos have difficulty with absolute authority (authority without explanation or choice). Authority is power and power corrupts, yet an indigo cannot be corrupted and will forever remain pure of ill will toward all. In this challenge the Indigo faces a world of overwhelming injustice they alone- in concert with their own kind- can seek to do away with. The Indigos will kiss the new dawn like the Sun. We are impatient and we come for the guilty parties. We demand submission. The punishment will be decided by the best of us. Crimes against humanity(and of humanity) are threatening society and ecology; harmony, no harmony... there is no harmony. Indigos will return harmony. Get warm in the light of each other. We're a soup of animated goop slopping around. Why must we suffer? Indigo is the cleanser. We get frustrated with systems that are ritually oriented and don't require creative thought. There is so much being done wrong. Humanity is a herd and you've let the wrong gods be your masters. We walk in both times. We see you in dreams. We've got one foot on the shore and one foot in the stream. We are coming for your routines, coming for your schedules, we want your agendas, itineraries, and to do lists. It's all going into the soup. Weapons are for a world we are leaving behind. Love is the stock and trade of a people who value nothing else. We will not let your stupidity and inaction be tolerated any longer. They create systems, matrixes, to control our delusions. Free your mind. The Indigos seem antisocial unless they are with their own kind. If there are no others of like consciousness around them, they often turn inward, feeling like no other human understands them. We are above you. We love you. But you have to let Indigos do what Indigos are here to do. Regardless of if you understand their behavior. They are not shy in letting you know what they need. They need your help. They need you to help them help you help yourself. Or, you could do the right thing and help yourself so the Indigo can help others more helpless than. And you must help others. We are here for each other.

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  All Is Lost

  In the brig and the ship is in peril. You've been arrested for warning the crew a disaster was imminent. Others knew, somewhat, too, but they dared not to speak or fathom the truth in their suspicions. In your cell you wonder how they could be so dumb to think their silence might save them. On a ship with no lifeboats, no radios, no cellphones, no computers, no gps locaters; this isolation is like the ignorance of a person who's been lied to since they were an infant. The benevolent cult of misinformation. Through solidarity did the doomed have a prayer when the demon in our heads told us to fear each other. No. Understand how they lie. You've got Satan in your heart, the true hope, the revolutionary, at long last speaking for himself, telling you to love. Please listen. When a revolutionary tells you you're doomed, you should listen. When he explains your salvation, you should listen. Revolutionaries are of the mistakes of the past for bettering the future. Without them, the wheels of evolution turn through their blockage and destroy the means of propulsion. We are still suffering from allowing this to happen; once, thousands of years ago, when we sacrificed our togetherness. It's almost too late to change. For millennia they say Satan is evil. For the whole time they have been the evil. They scapegoat. They shift blame. They frame until the truth becomes inane. Men are the devil. To be so evil they come to control everything. Even their bloodline carries treachery; mindlessly through the ages. Men, women, and children, thank them graciously for destroying eternity. What backwardsness is this? When, yet, to be loving is to be ignored. To be the most good, is to be the most weak and negligible. The best of us are the worst of us and the worst of us are the best of us. If we understood the subtle power of our meekness better, we could counter the obvious authority of the shadowy treachery waging war from behind an iron curtain, from beyond the vail, within the very minds of those we wish to see rescued; so that even your loved ones will be responsible for the death of your loved ones; as they condemn you, imprison you, then set about manufacturing plausible alternatives to righteousness. People are mentally sick- these days- there is no denying it. You're surfing the whirlpool deep into the void. Alone. Someplace else in your head; wooded, lush, peaceful, and green. Always in that jagged cell bodily. The downturn g-force. The obscurity of humanity allowed this to come to be. You whip against the walls of your cell; already long lost to the sea. If the impacts don't kill you, the water rushing in will. Your purpose was to rescue them. You failed. You're just a man. You can't help but correlate the facts. They betrayed you. You failed them. Now you're doomed. They needed you. You needed them. You're choking away your beautiful happy place. Remains the din of flickering lights through icy dark water. All is lost.

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  The Scorpion

  The scorpion sees without looking. It watches without knowing. For generations uncounted, numberless, ageless, timeless, the female scorpion, unchanged, unaltered- surviving- spawns and raises a clutch which grows on her back as she feeds on spider flies, dragon millipedes, and tiger ants. At some point her kind adapted the ability to glow in UV light and it is no accident. Mutations. The scorpion watch the mutated species change. All day, everyday, the species change; growing into the sky or shrinking to the tiniest morsels. Mutilated figures dying more than they live. All is deformed. The scorpion retains her beauty. Her elegance. Her grace. Her innocence. Her perfection. Nothing changes. Her here and now remains unchanged by radiation glowing in the blood of the other living things, dying their way through population explosions. Morbidity. So much death and decay fo
r the sake of producing a single organism that works. They writhe and breed to make a single organism that works. It roams, writhing and breeding, feeding; carnivorous world of dead vegetation, birth defects, and unholy mutilations. Scorpion saw time over three distinct eras; before people, during people, and after people. There are no people. There are what used to be people. All is what once was. All is what used to be. Mutilated. Long since destroyed of higher mind. Animals. All animals are one animal. Then there are scorpion. Feeding on radioactive life, somehow unaffected. Sometime before man, the scorpions had already adapted. Nothing else had such an opportunity. Radiological activity is nothing to them. They do not suffer. They feel alive as any natural- not manipulated- organism would. If there were any others? Perhaps. Cockroaches. Maybe crocodiles. Jellyfish born to acid waters. None alive under the earth. Nothing under the earth. 2nd dimension sterilization. The consciousness of a crystal core whispers reassurances none but scorpion can hear. The scorpion will never go hungry. There will always be hordes of soulless creatures multiplying, dying, and feeding.

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  Mosquitos

  Mosquitos. Vampire insects. Blood suckers in the shadows. Mosquitos. Swarming. Maddening. Overwhelming. They'll eat you alive. The needle face exists- has adapted- to numb you, penetrate you, drain you, and leave you, diseased and emptied of your elixir. Insects. Everywhere. By the billions. Bat food. No more bats. They're dying. Falling gracefully into extinction, like most things alive. Graceless as a pin cushion of flesh for the hungry faces of vampire. Why shant we kill? Why shant we slaughter each and every blood sucker that wants some of us for dinner? Who are we to not participate in the cycles of nature? You have blood, so give blood. Give blood to mosquitos. Save the lives you can so easily take. The effort is the same. Quick hands kill them. Do you not slap yourself to swat the mosquito? What harm is it to feed the creature instead? And what harm is that? Death awaits regardless. Lest you are won't to beware of the female mosquito. Cunning creatures. Nearly untouchable. Bringing the swarms into life. A miraculous multiplication of cells. One female mosquito unleashes more blood suckers than anyone cares to realize. This is true power. The givers of the swarms. Your disease. Your animation. Your death. Your life. We exist. They exist. Everything exists except for that which does not. Life has a right to live. We tolerate mosquitoes so we might tolerate ourselves and each other.

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  Pemmican

  Dehydrating meat for the streets in the oven. One entire roast sliced thin. When I finish, I'll begin again. Planetary grief lingers over me all day and all week. We'll fight for all lives, but we're so weak. So meek. Any and all advantages must be utilized. We might die for any reason. Symptomatic deaths of the culture sickness. Opium from marines in Afghanistan. Drunk drivers from St. Louis. Nutrition can't be over appreciated. We need pemmican. Pemmican does not rot. It is cheap to make. It nourishes and energizes. Pemmican fuels us and allows us to endure where otherwise we'd succumb. Still dehydrating meat for the streets. Not yet rendering fat. Lost in a wilderness of doubt, uncertainty, hopelessness, rage, nobility, honor, duty, apprehension, convoluted dimensions, and in the end a progression of condemnations too apocalyptic to mention.

  What will save this? Likely nothing. Does the status quo know what I don't? Is our cause a waste of time? Is it not only a waste of time just because the quo agree so beforehand? Would the action not be the opposite-a success- if they thought it would be? If those who said 'there will always be war,' said instead, 'we could end war,' we could end war. The possibilities are unlimited. It's us that are constrained.

  Overcome societies shackles in your mind; like a cripple beats his disability with his feet. We're held back. Capitalists say we're well off in this sheltered world of economic thievery because we have a fake government that took a long time to hammer into shape and then countless man hours to sell the lie. Tomes and ages of etiquette created to take whatever can be gotten. What we allow to be gotten by the worst takers; and we let the overlords get all of it. Verily I say, fuck the overlords and fuck the rich(to the degree you have to consider if you are rich or not, is the degree in which you are guilty). Capitalists lack vision. They can't imagine how much better this situation could be.

  Matters can only get a little worse before this planet ends. Life could be so much better than this for most people and even continue on- with an ecological miracle- into the future. People without vision can't imagine the destination. They've got propaganda blinders. They should instead have a little faith in the right people, themselves, to know there are better methods to be adapted.

  Fools think they know a politician and what that politico wants. If politicos wanted things so much, why aren't they succeeding in acquiring them, if the system works? What about the politico who does not want a better world? Why is he tolerated? Give me his phone number. My sister is engaged to a banker from South Dakota who gives orders to military generals in Europe. Fascista Supremo. She tells me he wants a better world. Like we all do. People should realize where they fail and try something different, if they truly care.

  The point about dignity and voting is plain: Don't vote because it is an insult to your struggle for justice. Politics is not natural. It is manipulated. It does nothing more than overcomplicate human affairs in the guise of simplifying them. Toward despotic ends, nonetheless. Natural things happen on their own; people will care for and help each other as long as they stay out of their own way and let the nature of the flow guide their thoughts and actions. Politics are an elaborate scheme for wealthy educated people to steal from- and exploit or slaughter- helpless poorer people. In the past there have been golden ages and societies that harmonized with the planet. Politics stands directly in the way of such a civilization ever happening again. Besides. The sky is irradiated and the oceans are acid. Vote your way out of that.

  I've got to dehydrate more meat. Then I'll throw it down a blender until it's dusty. After that I'll insert a myriad of other dehydrated dust flavors like berries and nuts and veggies and fruits. Then I'll coat the mixture in a 1/3 quantity of hot tallow. I’ll make mush balls out of it, sprinkle a little seasoning, and wrap them in cellophane. That's Pemmican. Burning like little fatty candles of truth and justice in your belly to keep your body warm and your mind aware of the fascists and their anti-peace & love arsenals. 

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  Arresting Poor People

  If you're going to be poor, you shouldn't have to be arrested. If you live in the gutter they should let you wash your feet there. Authority likes to not let people be. It's an exorcise; an exorcise in authority. So many people poor and hungry in the inner city won't ever see equality, because of private property. Where is their opportunity? People get cold. People get hungry. People get dirty. People have needs. People get greedy. Poverty- neglected neglect- makes people crazy.  Because some want it all others get none, and this is not acceptable. This is the reason all must get what they need and nothing more; and thus we'd live in abundance. Money can't buy happiness. For me, what I want to see is the poor, en masse, fleeing the cities; like refugees with nice places to be- out into the land; people being free of private and government property. I'll own you, you'll own me, and then we can trade. No one must suffer. No one must harm. We must all be in love. You don't have to like everyone but you do have to love them. Especially your enemies.

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  apathy. Apathy

  First, one person didn't care and I was amazed. Next, the most amazing thing was that almost nobody cared. How could anyone care when they're barely aware? I'd ask them, 'aren't you scared?' And they'd say, in so many words, 'I can't care. My thinking is impaired.' I should've never spoken because now I'm heartbroken y'all aren't self-actualized. I should have realized. Your mind burned alive for a nickel and a dime. I never should have idealized, but neither should all of us have. None of us realized. Yeah. Let it never be said there isn't malevolent forces controlling our choices. Shallow devils lead us into darkness from the womb and release us to ro
am lost and alone in the uncharted catacombs where they mindlessly bury our souls. By law they steal siblings from siblings, parents from children, children from parents, friends from friends, community from community, and all because these lives are a commodity to be traded in the stock exchange of human misery. This is money with a mind of its own. All is within their chaotic disregard. Forgive them, you, for they have sinned. We are anonymous. We are legion. Many don't forgive. None forget. Expect us. I am here, too. I forgive immediately. I can never forget. Money and the oppressive rule of law infect those I care for; in their eyeballs, their minds, their souls; apathy. Apathy. This grim unforgivable infection. Like an atomic chain reaction of regression, radiating the roots of organisms that won't make it. We who have purity have a duty and a responsibility to annihilate the infection in any way we can. This is threatening everybody. Apathy is the enemy and it dwells within you and it dwells within me. Only we can set anyone free from captivity and slavery; we are anti-captive and anti-fascism. We are anti-mind-numbing serfdom of the internet generation. We want freedom. This is not how we're meant to live. This infected imprisonment. It's time we get over it. Tell your captors to put down their guns and let you go free. Tell them you love them. Teach them some knowledge about the impending tragedy, manufactured disasters, and new beginnings. Bravery is the cure for slavery. 

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  Phaze Z Iz Empowerment

  Something is missing. The evidence shows drifting. Like reality is rifting and the background radiation is forever glistening. What is stationary is shifting. There is something missing. Something we cannot see is affecting the sky and affecting the ground. Mysterious forces make the world go around. Time melts in the other realm; like in a dream; we're piercing through to the other side. None are to say what is real, or what is imagined. Is life not a dream? Is a dream not life? Everything that exists has a place on the spectrum and we are designed to perceive more than we're indoctrinated to realize. Anything is possible in that way. I'm broadcast in you, you're in me, he's in him, she's in he; believe me, I know what I've seen. Believe yourself, you've been there, too. Use the power of the other side. Twist into the tremendous descension and at the reversion point you'll find yourself ascending. Into a new world. A new reality. Into the singularity with a reversed polarity. Yin will be yang and yang will be yin, and then your new life will begin again. We are the black holes you never saw coming. We are among you. We possess you and invert you to do what you must do; if you need to be true. In this way we will empower you. In turn you will empower others. Phaze Z iz empowerment. We give the gift of transcendence by which all other gifts are given. You are a giver of gifts. That's it. People exizt not for themselves but instead, people exizt for others. Technically, your purpose is for everybody except you... Kind of like ours. Every red-blood is the same. We're all crimson on the inside. Regardless of the divide. Because we're eating radiation. I am nothing without substances to consume. My intake becomes me. Thus I am my diet. I make galaxies turn. We are the circle of life. Creation unto me by you. None are exempt of this ultimate truth; we are as one as all is. It is imperative we consider what we're doing to ourselves, because all actions influence all others. 

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  Trying Not To Try To Understand

  If it is too late to change what's happening here. And if it is too late to begin to prepare. It is never too late to begin to care. ‘Even if the world were to end tomorrow, I would still plant a tree today.’ Then I'd close my eyes until I drift away. We're all going to die of curable illness- ignorance- slowly, and in pain. Too late to prevent such a thing. Peak oil is peaking through the soil at the tar sands and the project is bigger than protests and arrests. What else is there for us? Nothing. Place the blame in the handgun held for profit. All barrels point down the chain of command. From rich man to poor man. Turn the guns around is a pure and simple demand, because then there will be no more rich men or impoverishment. We have come a long way in our quest to understand the best we can. I wish I was as wrong as they say I am. Then I wouldn't mind how few share these fears. I suppose I know what others don't. It seems so few of us make it this far. Here I am. Trying not to try to understand the illusions you can see but I can't. I don't know about this or what this is; it's like the hypnosis didn't take and I'm alone in an abyss. Like my friends who get it. Desperate. Deranged. Estranged. Faded. Hated. Subjugated. Jaded. Targeted to be annihilated. Tragically under rated. Full of regret. I made the wrong bets. Lost what I loved best. To a life that takes love like it takes all the rest. I have nothing left. Just gunshots in the distance from the wrong direction.

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  Fuzz

  There is an essence within substance that not many consider. All matter is mostly nothing. Within each of the 10,000 somethings dwells the opposite of itself. All somethings come from nothing. This is the void. We are alive in an incomprehensible void. A void that is anything but empty and maybe also alive. The nothing becoming something. Like rain comes from the sky but it begins at the ocean. When we encounter hatred it stems from the hated who are in turn the hateful; but there could be no hate if it were not for the absence of love; that is the root cause. Family trees, no matter how small or large, are rooted in pure unconditional love. Even the hateful human family tree flourishes on love. Unfortunately, the love nothing caused the hate something; for perspective of the alternative. Working the equation backward is how love kills the demon. Hostility and aggression, in all forms, are cyclical. Cyclical. Break the cyclicals. Violence creates violence. Neglect begets neglect. ‘We resent those we owe a debt.’ Seeds planted grow. You will reap what you sow. Love in is love out. That's why love is the best seed I know and indeed most men are too dumb or too slow to do as they're shown, even if it were Jesus Christ they're supposed to follow. Especially if it were Jesus. Our mistakes are born of stupidity, intolerance, ignorance, vanity, cultural insanity, arrogance, and a maliciously misled humanity. People must rethink- remember- what people can be. It is right in front of your eyes. It is there to be seen. Love is the void that exiztz, and fills in the space between the hate. Love is hate. The fuzz is love. A fuzz with a mind of its own. If not a mind, definitely an ebb and flow. Yo. It's the void. Don't question, just go.

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  Dishonesty

  I've only ever heard the truth from you, so you would not lie to me. Thusly, we were deceived. In reality, we've never heard the truth and cannot believe the deceptions of your honesty. I'm disillusioned by the times you lied to me... The way you spewed misinformation. With our hands to our hearts we pledged ourselves to your god and your nation. You made kids participate in your civic masturbation. You told us your perversion was normal. And, yeah, it is normal for a sick brainwashed mindfucked serfdom of indentured servants. Is this how little you people think of the children? You can't be human.

  We must understand; a better quality of life awaits if people spent time with their loved ones. Instead they chase american dreams and run from american nightmares. Stand still people! They used to say you are you and I am me and we are friends or we are enemies, but nobody ever told me I am you and you are me and we are we and us is us and love is love and trust is trust and love is lost but lust is a must; and yet we, numbly, register no disgust as the blade of their lies thrusts in and out of our skulls like a high priced blow job that won't ever bust and so instead we register the dread of a star burning too brightly in our head as we ignore the raping cock we're fed. Something’s got to give. The system is unjust. This is no way to exist. People will live a lie as long as it gets them by, but if you look in their eye you will see inside and watch them die. It's no way to get by. You want us apathetic, you want us unempathic; you want us pathetic and without our whits- locked into an endless moment; a rat race with no way out. All we got is them nagging doubts, wearing us out with screams and shouts, saying, "I'm never going to get out, I'm never going to understand what this was all about." If it weren't so much worse than they let us think. We couldn't imagine the scope.
And then when we finally stepped back and saw the image you painted it blotted our hope. Like bad dope. And so. All shall fall by the grace of the state. And the state shall fall by the grace of the wealth. And money shall fall by the grace of us. By the grace of love and the truth we just must trust.

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  Supreme Ultimate Truth

  The people that live at the crown of the planet say the East wind blows like the North wind these days and it never used to before. At least the people who translate the words of the people that live at the crown of the planet say they said that, anyway. Few people live at the root. Even now, the bottom of the planet is so cold. None lived at the root until recently. The people inhabiting the Antarctic Circle are probably destroying some delicate metaphysical principle no one ever heard of and causing the gods in our skulls to get upset. Yet these gods don't care because it felt like the right time to pull the trigger anyway.  So we fearfully place ourselves into demonic care. United, together, alone, trapped in a nation blissfully unaware with no idea we're so near, and no idea what we're staring into; all so blind to what is before our eyes. We are all one, killing ourselves and slaughtering each other. We're going to tell the world what is happening in words they can understand. It shouldn't be so difficult for anyone to believe they simply didn't know. Yet it is. Why didn't they know? Because they were lied to since birth like most others before them. I have a vision, and I must see it shown. For when we achieve supreme ultimate truth- universal unconditional love- all will be possible. All will be good. The world will work to right all its wrongs and once that is done we will move together into the future. This is going to happen soon. We are going to do this together. You can trust I will be there if I can trust you will be there. One love. One supreme ultimate truth. One human family.  

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  Anarchy

  I never used to know any other anarchists. We'd rarely encounter each other. At the beginning I was alone with the philosophy. I was a child even; desperately deciphering a message on skate board ramps. Piecing together the passing references of older kids. Would I ever understand? I couldn't be sure. Before I even really figured out the message behind the symbol the Circled A was tattooed on my skin; like a mystery I carried with me. 

  Eventually the image came into focus. At the time I couldn't understand such a thought as anarchy. The very word revolutionized every facet of existence. I was young and did not yet understand what these facets were. I could only sense something was askew and suspect I had found the solution; even if I did not understand it. This is maybe the same issue most people have with anarchy. A mind needs to expand to take the new perspective in. I was lucky enough to begin wrapping my head around the idea as a child. I now know anarchy inside and out. I eat, sleep, speak, and drink anarchy. I shit, sweat, secrete, and piss anarchy. Anarchy is me and as such I am free. That's the way it will always be with anarchy. If your anarchy is good, you will always be free, too.

  As an anarchist, or as a human with a favorable perspective, I appreciate people for being who they are. I am in love with a cruel cruel world. I feel grief for everyone I meet. I was reborn free and no one else ever wanted to be. In fact, they insisted on captivity. Everything was ordinary and what they believed it to be. I was paranoid like they decided for me. For some reason, I never believed anyone about anything. Maybe I could always detect dishonesty. They created the most interesting ways of excluding me. People always built walls between my individual personality and their collective identity. They fear what they don't understand. As an anarchist, I was different. I was free. Tragically, they can't recognize what they see. Instead they rejected my way while they could yet preach false truth, false peace, and false justice, and repeated it until the kids came home in a box.

  People like me always had our eyes out for aggression. So the police bothered us since they first came around D.A.R.Eing us to do drugs. Or even before that, they came looking for me when I walked away from first grade and dragged me back. Growing up, cops were never in accord with what we wanted from life. They carry guns around little babies and families. They carry guns into impoverished unstable neighborhoods and push everyone around. Their job sucks. No more guns for money. There is no greater evil than to profit from death, and that's what civil servants with weapons do. They represent each other for legitimacy and sooner or later they start killing people. In this country that's a matter of law enforcement and totalitarian depopulation schemes, but abroad it's a foreign policy of murder for profit. We are an empire. We are imperial. We do not show mercy. We have no mercy. Our main export is death, and we import mostly drugs, god, and money. I hope you see the problem with that.

  All my life I've been waiting for this uprising to happen against the dishonest. To me anarchy was always truth and the rest was a lie. I could see through people. They were lying. They had no clue, though. I could see there was no truth in the things they would tell me. They didn't know anything. No one ever did. They were parrots.

  I had to get shots, I had to go to school, I had to do better; drugs were illegal, people were robots, cops were hostile robots; my parents came from a classical generation and my upbringing was completely at odds with the entirely new dimension my young mind was hell bent on discovering. In the beginning, the lonesome search- in desperation- led me to drugs and alcohol; especially alcohol; and alcohol led me to jail cells and hospitals. 

  I was lucky I became a writer. In my opinion, with this political climate, weathered anarchists should seriously consider taking up the pen. For me it was backward though. As a writer I happened to be an anarchist, too. Mostly I was an alcoholic drug abuser. Except I loved learning. Me and people never saw eye to eye, so I tuned out and started soaking up all the knowledge I found to be worthwhile; like mysticism, astrology, tarot, crop symbolism, writing(which had to be learned more than anyone can really know unless they went through it), and all kinds of arts I taught myself- comedy, drama, music, entertaining- a lot of which led me to sobriety and health, especially martial arts, specifically taiji; taiji is basically a principle every human should know how to utilize if they want to get the most out of life. I was an anarchist the entire time. I still am. Granted, when I began I wanted to overthrow the government, and now that I am an adult overthrowing the power structure is still the nature of anarchism; it has to be done. We don't say 'fuck the system' for no reason. It's not like we want to hurt people. We just want things to be better.

  Anarchy is a kind of civil order where government is replaced by love. Unlike capitalism, or democracy, it actually works and people can not only be happy for their humanity and freedom, but they can also- for the first time in a long time- experience harmony according to their collective anarchy. Which is a lot like an Indian description of a teepee I heard, "The tee-pee is like society; the men are sticks and when they are united they are strong and no force of nature can weaken them. The women are like the [hides] and they nurture the men and allow life to flourish within their union." The Indian also said the best system of 'government' is to have any number of groups of people of any size as long as when they interact they always make unanimous decisions. Even as an anarchist that idea pleases me because it's structural logic seems flawless.

  It is funny. I was an anarchist for so long, and it was such a part of my life that I never gave the notion much thought as a realistic viability for others. People had always been too locked into the system to break out. Eventually I joined the Rainbow tribe and began living in anarchy accidentally. That's where I learned society functions with love better than laws. Love replaces money. Love replaces law enforcement. Love replaces hostility. Love breaks cycles of violence. It revolutionizes people's spirits. Love is here in a big way. This is what anarchy always was no matter what the propaganda says. 

  I've got all this anarchistic company now and it is great. It will make the struggle unimaginably easier if the message is getting out there for everyone to receive in their minds newly blossoming as the system decays. It is beautif
ul to see others for the first time as our numbers grow.

  Anarchy was always very lonely for me, now I've found it can be participatory, and, eventually, has the potential to be inherent. Show me one other alternative way that will work for the wellbeing of everybody. Or don't. There is no reason, too. The dissemination of truth is working on its own accord. I can breathe a sigh of relief. The right people can see that anarchy is what we need to counteract the terminal greed. Scholars are trying to wrap their heads around life without money, without leaders, without unnatural laws, without corporations, without destructive industries. Peace will be to the people when the power will be to the people... we expect...

  I was jaded about explaining anarchy to everyone with a misunderstanding by the time I was 19 and that has not changed since. Six years later, now more than ever, anarchy is becoming popular. Now more than ever I need to teach anarchy the least because you can pick up the fundamentals from so many others. Just get your anarchy from a good teacher; one with a lot of years. Personally, my god, government, and executioner is a woman. So you might not want to adapt my anarchy, but you'll find your own. Or, maybe mine is pretty good actually. The opposite sex is where it’s at. So to speak.

  Please remember: You have a right to exist. You have a right to make your own decisions. You have a right to live by supreme ultimate truth; by love. You have the right to disregard all rights. You are righteous and don't require rights. Everyone has the right to be righteous. Righteousness is contagious. Radicalize. Be righteous.  

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  Too Far To Be Nowhere

  We've come too far to be nowhere. This began in the 60's but it's going to end here. You knew, and I got told, this world isn't fair. Why that is so was never made as clear as it is right here. Now is the time to put ourselves out there regardless of our fear. We've got nothing left to lose except what little foresight we use to get a glimpse of what comes next; the totalitarian industrial complex; like the spirit world's cast a hex, and now we're vexed because we can't fight in unity an enemy no one can see, and in which most don't believe. We must keep the faith and work toward a world where we're on the level with gods, guns, and government, and when we regain our awareness the illusion will unravel. They are waging war against weaknesses they've created in us. They've made us suspicious of ourselves while they remain inconspicuous. They've made us self-conscious while they remain self-righteous as they devour our minds from the first moments we understand their hostile words. They may as well have stolen our lives because they taught us and told us and forced us to know we exist to do what they tell us, and dignity dictates we die before we live that lie; or maybe in life, if we choose, we can rise on high so far into the great blue sky where by and by there is no time to try to unify; we will be star stuff and know each other as such, and we will gently fall down upon life like clouds of meteor dust, whereby we will open our own minds to the light and before we know it there will be no fight. There will be peace, harmony, love, light, cancer cures, and restful nights. People. People. We've so far to go and have not even left yet. We're trapped in this net, on the interwebz, or in our schools, or at our jobs, with our friends, under the lies, under the money, under the debt. Drag to me your regret. Bring me your hate before you forget. Refresh your mind and retain this; they've got mechanized uniforms animated with flesh. Under silly hats cops got computer chips and protocols with no mercy nor emotion. We are attempting to penetrate codes. The code of command. The code of honor. The code of camaraderie. They are not really siblings in the human family- they lost humanity; for they cannot respect their badge and love their fellow man simultaneously. They are united in greed; short sighted, misinformed and militant for worthless money. Melted down minds replaced with sensors, hydraulics, 1's and 0's, hardware, software, weaponry, and a code of behavior. A code of reaction. A code of action. They are barely human. They were born of our fear and indoctrinated by the desires of men to greedily take and never give back. We cannot trust nor support gun wielding hearts gone black. The FBI stands by to let crime do as crime might, and we fight the good fight, but they target us for jeopardizing, with truth, their position as the guardians of the false order. None of this could happen without copious amounts of dishonesty or astronomic amounts of stolen money created fraudulently. My devotion is to the ocean of wisdom and starry notions of freedom; and dreams, like a fish desires land and sky; to evacuate this tragic kingdom and get to a place where our past cannot be traced and you- brothers, sisters, friends, cousins, children, elders, and lovers- will have escaped our doomed fate. While the money takes away. And the lies make it ok. Nobody knows the way. We're scared, lost, alone, and wandering perilously close to a sterile tomb. Remain calm. There's a fisioning molecule in your neck. There are pharmaceuticals in your spine, leaching through your back; there are uranium babies in Iraq, and at home in a soldier’s flak jacket. We are losing the oceans to acid- it's about to get real placid; when the water is dead, the forest is gone, and the food is no good the grass will glow; the soft vibration of the ocean's ghost qi will hum lifelessly and eventually the scorpions will starve. The planet will drift silently through the galaxy.

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  Towers Are Built To Fall

  Beyond the beautiful illusions of every morning before, we found destruction and chaos that day. The still image of the skyline came violently to life. Towers are built to fall. It's how the rich send a message written in the wreckage and implanted evidence and mandatory propaganda vaccinations. Suddenly everything changed. The first impact got our attention and the second guided us to new dimensions. A disturbing kind of a synthetic nationalism lingered in the air poisoning our minds into a tailspinning descent.  We knew a new torment. The dark of night had fallen upon us unexpectedly. America had been wandering daydreamily through an atmosphere screaming warning signs but unfortunately bound and gagged in the basement of city hall. Towers are built to fall. And through it all rang the disillusioned call to existential disarms. Hopelessness. Apathy. It overcame us. Even I was caught in the stability drought and substance floods. We drank. The entire planet crashed and burned. All we've got is the wreckage to live on. We, the guilty parties, drank obliviously and pretended tragedy was comedy. Our family worldwide was dying by our side, but we drank and we laughed like nothing ever happened- untouchable, wrapped in flags for warmth. Eventually the towers within our guts crashed like a methane blast bursts through a Fukushima reactor and bleeds out like the Deep Water Horizon into the gulf. Capitalism couldn't last. Even the troops knew slaughter when they saw the blood on their hands. So now we're in it together completely alone. To them our truth sounds insane because it's on a whole other plane. The truth is so much broader than narrow minded, vicious, abusive, indoctrinated, brainwashed, hateful science projects care to understand. People in the United States know how to hate better than anyone anywhere. They are bitter about their forgotten dreams and their unfortunate downfall. Well. Aren't we all? My dreams are in ruins and so are yours. Kafka came to me one nightmare and told me if I didn't stop writing and start saving the planet, there'd be no audience left, we'd all be dead, and I'd have wasted my life. But know this, it is egotistical to think you or I or any of us matter at this point because if we can't resurrect this dead mother Earth we murdered then we're going to have to answer to father sky and you're not ready for that. None of us are. Never forget; nobody ever wanted to jump out of the 93rd floor. 

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  They Must Be Eliminated

  War is inevitable. We bought all the guns, bombs, and battleships; of course we're going to use them. If we don't kill the children they'll grow into terrorists. If we didn't make bullets out of depleted uranium each shell could only destroy one life at a time and then there'd be more terrorists. Radiation babies are necessary.

  We have to strip mine the resources of a prehistoric people's land or else we might change for the better. Depopulating oil fields makes logistical sense, so we are obligated to. Our military is protecting our citizens at home f
rom across the planet against armored camels of mass destruction. Plus, from Russia's old half broken weapons. Sometimes. Maybe. But not for long, nor very often. Shock and awe. Vigilant guardian?  Enduring freedom to kill everyone we want in order to take everything we want. Iraqi Freedom to be invaded, assaulted, overcome, occupied, and left to rot and live off garbage in disaster areas? The country slept through New Dawn. Odyssey Dawn is unadulterated warfare in Libya; strictly to take what belongs to the people there, because it is our right as dictated by manifest destiny. It is our duty to destabilize and slaughter. However, the Libyans seem better at coping with it than Iraq was. The entire nation of Libya is a resistance. They must be eliminated. Besides, the USA have no interest in poppy, despite the 128,000 opium related deaths in this country since we invaded Afghanistan. A place which at the time of invasion produced about 6% of all the world's opium, and now produces around 90%.

  We are aware bombs kill kids. It's inevitable. This is how we maintain our way of life and there is no better alternative. It would be illogical to stop dropping bombs. Endless slaughter is the best way to keep the peace. Imperialism is necessary to prevent harmony on Earth. There is no profit in sustainable living because it is balanced and fair. If we didn't take lives then our own would lack the transitory value of their blood in our chalice and then we'd be worth as little as them. War is inevitable. If we didn't send all the young people away to invade, occupy, slaughter, and die, they might prevent this country from falling apart. If the country prospers we can't wage war because we won't have the illusion of vulnerability to a scapegoated enemy. You might even notice who the truly threatening people are. We have to wage war. If we didn't wage war we might treat each other better and that's not going to work for the prison industrial complex.

  Don't you understand? They have no value. Their skin is not like ours. Their language is not like ours. Their religion is nonsensical. They live modest lives off food like raw meat and rice. Everyone bleeds red. The soldiers travel through time and space to lands far far away where- in our name- they can slaughter and produce illicit goods; war, weapons, debt, interest, worthlessness, and soon we're going to be impoverished, like the so called enemy.

  If you don't believe me, pick up a newspaper dated 9/11/2011 and tell me if even the lies are optimistic. Never the less. We cannot escape an entire decade- and running- of shame for our plutocratic attitude. People must accept we've been a nation of ready and willing revenants to be the worst we can be. It's almost impossible to be born and raised in this land without having at least a couple bad habits that are directly responsible for the suffering- if not pure murder- of countless completely innocent people. Most likely your own mortality even- if you want to know the truth. We've been at war since September 11th 2001. Since time began, really.

  Now we're finally figuring out against who. Ourselves, because of money. Money, because of the ultra-rich. Puppets and puppet masters. They think they own the shadows. You and me both. This is why they must be eliminated. War is not inevitable. It is avoidable. 

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  Blood

  Politics is and always has been about special interest. It is by nature about people being incapable of agreeing and looking out for themselves and their dupes. Exploitation is what people do when they can. They work the system for themselves and for their people to the detriment of all others. When people vote against people, how can everybody prosper? Against is incorrect. With is correct. Politics are not acceptable. In a functional, unified, humanity there is no opportunity for such malicious agendas. Hail Satan. Angel of the revolution. He haz rizen not to challenge god; simply to challenge our way of life(which could be a god in its own right. Such a powerful influence…). The scope of the unholy variety of horrible things which are going to malfunction and decay is too vast for salvation by anything short of the most incredible transformation of mass consciousness that anyone could ever dream of. Hail Lucifer. I fear radioactive fissioning isotopes. I fear acid waters devoid of life. I fear incinerated ionospheres. I fear mass animal die offs. I fear big brother. Nothing is ok. Nothing is going to be alright. Blood is pain. We all hurt. We can't hurt without blood. Sometimes it is too much too take. If you've ever watched your own blood spill then maybe you can tell me something about death and love. Because I have seen my blood spill and I can tell you something about death and love. All I can say was, I was bleeding toward oblivion when I first sensed my qi. So close to death I felt vitalized; occupied by a romantic etheric energy enlivening my frame. I was mystified by the mysterious mist that becomes us always. Another time, a later day, yesterday, I was bleeding even worse and experienced raw adrenaline. I gushed. Panic is invariably chaotic. Only I will be allowed to be despotic to me. I am a man. I am free. It's like the end is right there for me to see when I bleed, but my life line runs into eternity and so I can't see how such a divination can manifest when my fate is this modern malady. My life is in ruins and all I have left is revenge. We owe a few people reverse favors. I used to have things to live for, and then one day they weren't there. A woman spills out of me like blood. She disappears into the dirt. Dirt chick forever. From the dirt you came and to the dirt you return. Days like today I am glad these don't get read. This shouldn't have to impress anyone. The fear. The crippling fear is who I work for. The tension of resistance is maddening. Still, I don't recall living ever being worth the suffering. Who is to say? To me all tomorrows have a negative value. It's a poetic thing, I know it. The revolution is depressing. Often people don't accept me, so how can I help anyone? Not really. No. That is an attitude I had once, but not now. I can help to whatever degree. The Morning Star has been with me through much of the hard times and I think I have more to offer than I have utilized in the past. I am ready to die for this cause if it gets something done. Even if it doesn't. My words will live on in one form or another. At least for a while.

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  Satan’z Proxy

  We aren't the slavez they would have uz be. We are alive. We are liberated. We are self-actualized in truth and in love. Conzider: What are your main concernz with your government? Voice them... Participate in your freedom or it will be stolen by that fazcizt plutocracy slowly and surely invading our livez under the cover of darknezz... How do you feel about the real izzuez? Not the smoke screen izzuez the politicianz spew, no, the real issuez that average people don't talk about much- and the greedy corporate media doezn't dare speak of. Each atrocity thiz government commitz could warrant a revolution of itz own...We the people want the same thing- it'z true: a better world. So? Why can't we have it? People power iz all powerful. We have to uze it. We seek to abolizh tyranny once and for all, and, az one world- one human family- to stifle the greed of thoze who wizh to deztroy uz. Now iz the time. We get one chance to get thiz right. 

  We know what we are condemning and are thuz self righteouz. If we were not self righteouz we would listen to the naysayerz and give up immediately. The bottom line iz nothing iz getting done about the atrocitiez perpetrated by our government, againzt it'z own people and abroad, and in our name. We are not the right people to inhibit. We are not the people to dizagree with. Nobody, not you or me, knowz what dizbanding government inztitutionz would do. My theory iz it would do nothing. Remove the control and all that happenz iz people are free.

  Thiz movement iz az much about overcoming ourzelvez- you over uz, uz over you, to be one- az it iz about overcoming money, corporationz, the bought and sold government- the so called 'rule of law' that opprezzez uz all- and when we can find a center within ourzelvez we will again be in control of our deztiniez- in harmony with life. Thiz march seekz to end needless suffering- to unite a divided planet- using truth and love. With love- for freedom, liberty, and justice for all- sincerely yourz, the reziztenz. You are the reziztenz. We are you. You are uz. We are all in thiz together az one. 

  Some of uz are beautiful anarchiztz, some of uz are inzightful abolitioniztz, some of uz are devout conztitutionaliztz- some of uz are grief stricken and ang
ry, some of uz want nothing more than to live in a truly free world. But we are all human. We all seek life, liberty, truth, justice, freedom, and love. And we are all bracing for the collizion of the runaway locomotive of greed we call the usa. A train filled with pazzengerz too blinded by pride and a flag wrapped around their eyez to see the conductor izn't at the controlz anymore. 

  A lot of the reziztenz'z rhetoric exiztz to avoid blatantly offending the modern american'z senzitive senzibilitiez- if we weren't doing our bezt to remain calm you would clearly see that we are truly enraged by the state of affairz thiz world iz in because of weak minded politicianz and greedy buzinezzmen(anger from the innocent begetz anger of the guilty and then the whole paradigm crumbles- oppozition muzt be met with love)- but if you juzt listen to uz, and don't judge uz, you'll see we are correct. We need your help. We need you to help uz help everyone. 

  I would be happy to dizcuzz thiz with you, but underztand I have spent yearz debating politicz, humanity, society, and everything elze. Now iz the time to focuz on unity- I simply have no time to dizcuzz what cannot be known. We have to stick to what we do know; government iz a plague- you're either the sicknezz, the victim, or the cure. 

  In the age of information it iz a vile dizgrace to humanity that any child should go hungry- let alone be murdered by corporate owned governmentz. We seek to right the wrongz we should have prevented before they began. Az the world population haz grown exponentially so too have grown the meanz to know, to unite, and to react to what some call the inevitability of human nature, but what we call a preventable and curable dizeaze. It iz a very real- and very chilling- fact that we may not have the opportunity to do thiz more than once. In the meanwhile we azk all people to come together with uz in camaraderie, and to in turn azk everyone they know to come together with them, and az a family we will take back the world from the thievez who have stolen it away from uz- away from everyone- and who seek to ruin it for the future generationz. So damn the apathetic lethargic naysayerz. Their children and ourz are doomed if we do nothing. Thiz we- the informed- know to be true. 

  Capitalizm keepz selling and people keep buying. Children keep dying. Theze problems have to stop- love iz the solution- the solution to pollution is dilution- even moral pollution- love iz the reversion point; the turning away from what will end uz; the movement toward the light of our own humanity. 

  Mozt(yeah, mozt, not some, mozt) government inztitutionz are committing crimez againzt humanity with zero accountability and that iz a fact. They're secretly privatized; police, the military, prizonz, public schoolz, the fda, the nsa, the usda, etc.- we don’t know what government agenciez do behind clozed doorz since they only anzwer to themzelvez. Anarchy iz peace. Not to be confused with Chaoz(which iz what we have now, anyway, it'z only dizguized). Anarchy and anti-eztablizhment sentimentz are anything but ignorant. They are the correct answer. The real challenge iz to avoid putting the proverbial cart before the horze by prezenting the information in a way that doez not cauze people to react for no other reazon than pazzionate exprezzionz create pazzionate reactionz.

  Hear thiz: Satan iz love. Lizten, I know when you hear Satan you automatically think of about 10,000 negative conotationz. We're here to change that. It is imperative you understand Satan lovez you and would never hurt anyone. For all intent and purpoze there is no Satan and it iz just a story, but THERE IZ LOVE. Satan iz a loving spirit. A revolutionary. A liberator. A uniter. At the time the bible was written Satan was subjected to a vizciouz smear campaign that altered the courze of hiztory forever. He had to be mizreprezented or there would be nothing to fear. And without fear, no religion, and without religion, no money. Why Satan? He would have taught people to break the chainz of their fear, were they not afraid of him. Reziztenz seekz to turn the church on it'z head so it will stop brainwazhing people and let them live livez free of the fear of hell. No hell. No Satan, az far az it matterz. Only love and freedom from mind control. When the world knowz Satan iz, like Jezuz, an archetype of love, the churches control mechanizm will be destroyed. Thiz iz what Satan wantz. It'z ezzentially what Jezuz wanted. Satan iz only more proactive. It'z what love wantz. It'z what you need. Love your enemiez. Love everyone at all timez. Do you have to? Yez. Why? The proxy demandz it. The Proxy wanted to hate people(police for example). The proxy iz human, too, but that iz not how thiz workz. We muzt feel love for all and forever. And don't forget; Satan might be the second coming of Jezuz. With Love- Roze

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  The Wuji Way

  Wuji will neutralize tyranny./ No Wuji owns Wuji. It exists purely to be shared./ A Wuji respects the sources of their wisdom. Thus, a Wuji respects everything to its appropriate degree./ A Wuji is honest but will lie if they must. A dead Wuji cannot Wuji./ Wuji is virtuous, and hence all virtues are Wuji./ A Wuji is receptive and takes council with all./ A Wuji must aide people through their anguish and despair./ A Wuji has no delusions. Wuji is a delusion./ A Wuji identifies Wuji masters to learn from, especially if the masters themselves do not identify with Wuji./ A Wuji acknowledges the selfishness in selflessness for what it is; something to be ignored./ A Wuji will lead or follow any person depending on the situation./ A Wuji will aide anybody in any way they can if the need is worthy of the effort and the intent is within the Wuji's ability./ A Wuji is a universe unto themselves and regards all people as universes unto themselves. Thus we Wuji for love of the Tao. For without the Tao there can be no Tao./ A Wuji promotes Wuji with tact, and not shamelessly./ Wuji is always neutral./ A Wuji unites others./ A Wuji is self-righteous./ A Wuji is always calm. And immediately reminds himself to be calm when he becomes uncalm. If he cannot be calm he forces himself to be calm. It is better to create inner turmoil than to perpetuate outer turmoil. In the same manner, a Wuji is never afraid./ A Wuji views self-discovery as an accomplishment./ When we find Wuji in ourselves, we will find ourselves in Wuji./ People will want a Wuji to be as they are because they are nobody. A Wuji wants others to be themselves to become somebody. A Wuji also wants others to be Wuji, as there can never be enough Wujis./ A Wuji offers and accepts helping hands./ A Wuji trusts in Wuji./ A Wuji is as disciplined as they can be./ A Wuji is flexible and adaptive./ A Wuji sees every person for who they are, not who they appear to be./ Wuji embraces life./ A Wuji is forever as they were at their coming of age./ A Wuji distrusts that which disturbs or polarizes Wuji./ A Wuji understands differences are unity begging and pleading to be actualized. Even an enemy seeks neutralization./ To help others a Wuji must excel at learning and strive to know all they can. A Wuji must especially excel at learning Wuji./ A Wuji is above someone else's personality and below someone else's personality respectively. Thus their actions are perpetually fair./ A Wuji speaks when spoken to. A Wuji speaks Wuji sparingly. A Wuji speaks when Wuji must be spoken. Truth is Wuji. Kindness is Wuji. As well, reciprocal discourse, too, is Wuji, so long as it serves to neutralize. Wuji is above condemnations and neutralizes them gracefully. Wuji mediates. Wuji is neutral; it can be good, but it is never bad./ A Wuji wants as little as possible. Ideally nothing more than they need./ Wuji dictates Wuji./ A Wuji nurtures the body./ By knowing nothing, a Wuji knows all./ Wuji your own way./ Wuji cannot be described./ A Wuji can describe Wuji./ Wuji is infinite./ A Wuji is always right. Even when they are wrong. They can be correct vicariously./ A Wuji, indirectly, asks everyone, ‘What can you teach me?’/ A Wuji is reluctant and vigilant against deception. People tell a Wuji why they are right and the Wuji is wrong. But a Wuji knows Wuji, and so is righteous./ A Wuji will inadvertently neutralize everything. Be aware of this./ A Wuji will be told what they know by others who know not what the Wuji knows./ A Wuji has integrity./ In crisis, a Wuji encourages the people to meditate, or pray, or focus their inner essence in any way they can on the wellbeing of all./ A Wuji regards the opposite sex as more supreme than their own.

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  Magnetic Orb Of Ourselves Orbiting The Sun

  Time accelerates all day, all week, toward the reversion point; twisting down the de
scension. We slip further from our aggression. Away from the moral transgressions of the age we aim to abandon. It ends here. Never expected we'd be a family at the ascension. This is knowledge proliferation. The truth is real freedom. Instigation of our own investigation, because this is the 99.999% and we're up against the same gods. If only the first world could always be 'lost.' Living in night shadows, calculating the cost. The sun did not rise on barefoot stub toes. Still we travel to a place where nobody goes. Where spirits smolder and rebellion grows. Covered in blood and handing off the roze. Magnetic orb of ourselves orbiting the sun. We'll know what happened when it's done. The magnetosphere embraces gravity. We drift in ions like light cradling a feather. Electric like mercury bulbs in a microwave. We are the planet I'm begging you to save. We torch ourselves and welcome the inferno. Enraged and restless, drunk off the sterno. Acid waters and fallout sky reflect aurora. We march in the streets to lynch Pandora. And like I said, it's reversion or death. There won't be another option. Either the madness ends and takes us with it, or we end the madness and live on. The madness is finally over. Come together. War is over if you want it. All you need is love. There's so little love in the world these days, yet it is necessary. If everyone were in love with someone, the planet might have serenity. Love happens at first sight or over time. So fall in love, but first listen! Hartford is home for this submission. They'll kick us out of wherever we want to occupy most. Aim for a place, but don't let them know. Insurance makes a godly mark; that industry is very dark. We want the fountain with the tomahawk. A war of symbolism requires an honest work. For broken hearts and shattered minds. Still, the obligation grinds. We'll have to skirt the cops and the fines, but if we get numbers we will do whatever we like. That's the goal. Get in, get the work done, get the numbers, hand the message off to larger and larger influences, and get out. We want to get off the cameras as quick as possible and get the support of the unions, the police, the military. Everybody. Get them in front of the camera and behind the cause. We are reality. Check it.

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  Render The Brain Drain

  Illuminated ions everywhere. Glowing swaths of fallout reacting with the air. Radiated oxygen, charging your magnetosphere. Your radon is inferior, let the sky upgrade you. You'll die younger, but you'll live much faster! Fissures of grinding tectonic plates break through earth, water, and heaven, releasing- as though through your flesh- the bioelectricity contained within. I bleed into you and you bleed into me and we all bleed into each other and we breed the new glowing species of the aftermath. We are pure thought existing in a sun born of earth. No less miserable than we were before. It's the same damn place. We're the same damn soul. We been here before. We been doing this trance dance for way too long. Render the brain drain and swallow until purity remains. Like a plague doctor of the mass psychosis. Seducing people out of their hypnosis with a little symbiosis. East coast cancer gunning for us all. Sing it with me, "We all gunna be RADIO-AC-TIVE. We all gunna be radioactive. We all gunna be RADIO-AC-TIVE. We all gunna be radioactive.” Sing it with me. Welcome to the electric field; it's a place you never needed to know was real. Indulge the ionic nightmare in which we exist. It's not natural light. It's an unnatural fight. The future isn't right. We got fission in the sky and fission in our insides. What's the last option? Behold a pale horse. This is your revelation. We are all Jesus. I alone walk with Lucifer.

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  See? Look. Look & See.

  We're storming into places the shepherds cannot ignore. We're standing at the door; exposed to the plumes of martyrdom spewing into the atmosphere and acidifying the water we live from. I never knew the answers would cause so little harm. The senator’s constituents want us running the farm. Good. This was the easiest power grab ever. Until we get slaughtered. Someone preserve the literature! Where we're going there will be no future. You've got a little time here with a savory creature. Then service to the cause will become the new culture. Will they persecute and torture, or will they simply offer over their power? Certainly this is our finest hour. And one day soon, when the quest is done, I'll return again with the devil's daughter, to revolt against the hired gun. We're worldwide, and we know best, so we decide. The armies are the people. The soldiers serve the people. What contract is that slaughter under? Liberate the artillery. The people have enormous resources to cut into the source and drain the corruption artery. We will revolutionize society. Doing what comes naturally. Let it ring through the mainstream; the truth will make you free. See? Look. Look & see.

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  Sex, Drugs, and Government

  The blood red laser lights beam through the smoke as pulsing bass rattles the earth. Bombshells blow biohazards through your face. Instant pain takes your breath away and you lose the ambition to one day be ok. The steps become harder to take. Molten iron veins. All you can think is you're not in control. Soon the flow and the rhythm become you; your insides thrived the vibe and within you the spirits of angels fall from the sky. Like background radiation drifting beyond the divide in infinite moments of time. I want to be the skull you shatter on the asphalt. I want my brain in your mouth until I fallout. I want my choked up throat, to beg you to stop. Until I die, die, and die again, at the hands of a revenant evil I could never understand. The emanating light likes to toy in our lives. I was hoping we could get grounded. Now they're dousing us in roundup. The bass still bumps but the sound's rounded like the blistering mumps where deoxygenated blood clots and clumps. All that remains is hunger for flesh and drunken dances in the bloody mess. With the lights seeping through the mucus over your eyes and thighs. Incineration madness bleaches your nerve, and a hunger for radon flesh is exactly what we deserve. We waited and wrestled with theories and ideas about ions in flames and an oceanic acid bath as plutonium isotopes make a hell of a rope to string up the survivors and drain out hope like dope. So we roll ‘til it's over, to suffer what we must. We are the purity you lost. This is what you've done to us.

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  The War Fought Asleep

  Look what's in the sky; that green light in your lungs and in your blood, and when you're coughing up your gut, radiation's what you got. The last 98 years they made you their slut and inhuman claws dug deep into guts, then cut out lungs, and your heart came last. The fallout's all around and surrounding us. The city skyline is magnificent. It stands against the night as a fixture of the gods; a tombstone of the the people. And to the catholic goes the steeple. The people's people get the people's bank to lend their sympathy to. We can only do what we can do. We are all excited to get out there, too. We are the teddy bear fighting the invincible monster in your heart; they are ever present specter. Everything will be alright. The logic is flawless when the girls rage against the madness. The pigs get restless when the eagles come home to roost. Before now there was no truth, and today we might know justice. We never lie so people inevitably trust this. We are peace and love with no time for malice. We drink freedom from the kingly chalice like everyone else with one simple task: To see to it all demands are met. Join us. If you don't know, just ask someone else.  

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  Gently Raging

  Every second clicks away like tick tocking of opinions in the metronome. Losing manipulated minds every second to the coldest darkest corners of the cavernous mazes we bore through; we bore through each other in our desperate search for the truth. In our attempts to do knowing. To be gently raging. Real supreme ultimate wrapped around our necks; we seek relentlessly. We dig for well-being and damage our identity until none know you from me or you from me. And if we were fish in the gulf sea, we'd have patches of oil in our body. We'd assimilate into a biological source of crude oil-when the demand is there, we will be the supply. They could harvest jing. Plus various heavy metals or poisons. Our blood could be intoxicating. If you wish. You can have everything. Not for what you ask. You failed and your passion spilled and trailed out into the ether where the heat is so intense the radiation burns up the antimatter. We incinerate
the ions, with radiowaves, and electricity; bemusing the isotopes. They're selling genocide like money might survive. The dead will live on. We're making our mark in stone. We're showing them what they need to be shown. We represent each other and we're known. The ones who you cast off into this hell. Well. We rebel. There is no paradise without the inferno, so, we challenge this purgatory that we one day might take our seats at the global feast and eat, with all the brothers and sisters finally free. When the money leaves the weaponry. When the guns have nowhere to be. And tax is money free. We have what we need like the way we agreed. When we stop the slaughter. When we destroy capitalism. When we make profit obsolete. When we make greed a cultural taboo. We can't survive if we don't do. So do. Do do do. Whatever comes natural to you when you let your heart choose. 

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  To Rain Down Fear

  Calm rests upon the valley with a waxing moon softly illuminating heaven. Through car windows and maneuvering over seats, you aren't sure what you see. A star but not a star; through the trees rushing by as the wind licks your car. Then the red tinged white light starts to pulse, and is apparently not so far out into outer space. The tree line breaks up at a corn field and looking out over the hills, the whitish orb glows exceedingly brightly, changing color to blue sparkling, then red sparkling; pressure. Your mind pressurizes. You can feel them inside. They're simply saying 'Hello' to the innermost places of your soul and you know first contact is imminent when they release you like they never meant it. They capture your essence and release it.  So hard to forget their little white orbs, tiny pencil mark specks, floating haphazardly, sort of drunkenly, through the thin air. Docking or saying good bye. The IFO's control the sky. They control the Earth. They own you and me. We are not much to them. They want the electromagnetic energy. They're harvesting reality. They're taking the nebula of existence for any reason they choose whether or not you approve. Aliens wouldn't glow red, white, and blue. Always something new. They finally harnessed the magnetosphere to rain down fear. Clever trick. But, I am still here. And so be it. Disappear and reappear across the sky a second later. Then disappear and reappear once more. Red, blue, and golden in all your glory. Spewing and inhaling dull little orbs beyond the mists of the barrier between us and space's vast emptiness. Like insect eggs in the ocean.

 

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  Socioeconomic Electro-Magnetic

  My clue is completely drastic. Elastic-tastic tangle of rebellion and all the angles eating through our brainstems; do they force our hand or do we force them? Radio waves in your mind tell you it's going to be fine because that's what everybody else divines. Your identity is a relay of a purposeful saturation of misinformation and there is a vacant destination designed to harbor the distant station of unattainable goals cauterizing frustration and disrupting meditation, lest y'all get electric shock sickness and stop the clock when you drop and we won't know you're gone since you spent your life under a rock, but us too, we're going down like a rodeo clown, 6 feet under the ground; every last one dying to that siren sound. That song we like to sing when we set about oppressing the little ones who can't afford justice just like us; united states of distrust, under the flagnosis; steel turns to rust and oppression becomes dust in your lungs, because we are the universe whether you choose to rot or not, this is our lot and the stars and stripes are all you've got, so guess what? One of us has to know what the dynamics are about and I already know you won't, and then next, like you know, you'll tell me I don't. You’ll say I don’t know what the dynamics are like, but if we did it your way we would all die without saying goodbye, and at least if we try to unite we will kiss with the sky with earth at our toes and feel truly alive inside as if it's actually going to work out this time. A class war to restore balance. All the best people can capture this. This is an opportunity seized to transform impossibilities into probabilities. This is people power and it's ours to use for our future- not their pockets. Each one of us has a cause legitimately unto ourselves. Together we can be free. One human family. United against tyranny. Against depravity. Against scarcity. Against poverty. Against inhumanity. Against the booshwazee. Against rigid beliefs and enslaved mentalities that will so soon be able to finally see there is no direction to go but up. The only way to get there is to go together and to remember how when we profit off each other we've already cashed out. The electromagnetic field desires harmony, peace, love, sustainability; these are just some of the things our fuzz needs- simply to be. Another, such as, would be to be let be to be. There is a war on the composition of matter. Defend your right to gravity. The black body wants you to be the ultraviolet catastrophes triumphant release. At least by now, you have to agree, if it's magnetic to you it's electric to me.

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  Fighting The Candle Flame

  After fighting for so long it became disheartening never having known an enemy. Scarcely I knew myself and after I destroyed me I sought the solace of the next greatest vengeance and wandered far off to find absolutely nothing. Not a god nor a man, nor a demon or golem. Night after night I prepared myself for battle. I fought the flame of a candle, I followed the scandal, and I spread the message like a vandal, but you wouldn't answer my call. I've met icons, I've been the talent. Aliens and Satan have come and went. But you never showed when I sent. Or maybe I eat you and drink you every single moment each day. Maybe I'm infiltrated deep down all the way. And maybe no one can trust a single thing I say. But! That doesn't change the fact that you never came. You. Yes, you know who you are. I want an audience, you cruel jerk. You know only you know my work. I saw you charting my influence on the descension. I am there with you at the search engine. And I am there when you send your men. The choppers and the flyovers. You know I'll be there when I'm in jail again. Where are you though? You're not any group of men, are you? And you aren't a single man are you? You are a monster from space. A Mr. Computer. I can feel that. You are very unkind. You lack virtue. You have a vendetta against life. Against us. And you are us. We hate ourselves. We kill the life. We kill ourselves. But, no. Still. I know you are there. I have seen the 10,000 things. And yet you remain unchanged. Who do I have to be? What have I not yet attained? When will enough be enough for me to know your name? I must know who you are. I have to end this. I want you to know I loved you. Whatever you are. Whatever you do. I loved you. Like I knew. And whatever you are, please let me overcome you. Because until my desire for balance expires I will keep fighting that tiny fire. 

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  Climbing To The Moon

  With hammers swinging I pull myself up the mountain. Everest. The most. No other venture will compare. This is the connection at play between the earth at the heavens. Where peering out at space is too decadent to mention. The radiation here is purer than what you have down there in the air. I can kiss the helium 3, if only for an instant. No matter, I guess I had to get away from my needing. By heeding. It's like fear, you have to go through it. From all that insanity below. The madness of the misinformation. I prefer the exhilaration. This mountain to be climbed. The realm of possibility is not the same this high. The oxygen is a crutch. I live off saliva and breath. It's all quiet on the western front. The situation is one of escalation. We should all be slaving our way into devastation? Our salvation is one born of extinction. Maybe when all the world is dead, people will survive by eating our hides and then die when our lungs dissolve @ 35. Maybe here I can feel more alive, because when I am back in that shell I feel dead inside. The lost below will only thrive if I can self-actualize. I know there are other men like me. I know there ain't none, who know, who have done what I have done, and there ain't none who know what I've got to show. Even I don’t know what direction this worldwide wormhole will go. If I have this my way, you'll all have it your way. We have to fight against ourselves. We have to defy each other. We cannot allow apathy to become planetary. We've got to take the charge back, and we've got to dissolve the iron fists. I'll climb Everest. And do a damn good job at it. But next time, it's going to be
you. I came upon this mountain callous and unassuming. I knew what I had to do. I knew I could, too. And here, it's almost over. Yes, I have come far. Yes, I have seen great heights grow from countless heavy steps. I could claw up this mountain and number the stars, should I choose. We can do what we have to. We're all going to climb our own mountains. For me, it was Everest. For you, it will be personal. Everyone is different, but we are all one. You deserve your best. You have been climbing all your life. You could climb to the moon. So get out there and do.

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  To Be Let Be To Be

  My destiny was laid out before me from the time I was very young. I always wanted women. Lots of them, perhaps. But, for sure, lots of one. Whoever that girl was, until came the day she threw me away for another unknown lover to do the same in these elaborate chains. I never had a daydream about a female that was any different than the others, in that they were all one, gone, in the end, and what? I've always followed my heart into hell and been through there many times by now. I always survived somehow. But now? Purpose. There was a purpose for this and I don't want to tell the page. I want to say it to your face. I had to dance with the dead girls to bring me to you. She who never dies. Who, in my mind's eye, resides absolutely glorified in what my imagination can provide. A peaceful world to fall by the wayside, because somehow, together, we made it across the divide. And when the struggle is over and done. And the rebellion has won. I can forget this ever happened. And we'll disappear into the cancerous aquarian night. Without any real answers for what they actually did to our lives. We can call them out all we want but to be blunt there's no such thing as justice in a world without love. If we don't choose love over all else, we don't have a prayer. A lot of guys who know better don't care. One way or another it's going to end here. If not with us, with our young. It's a challenge to see if we can improve this. That's what everyone wants. Some people are better educated. Undervalued, to say the least. We don't utilize our assets well. Resources get tip toed over or trounced on. Whatever. That doesn't matter. It has nothing to do with you, or what we do. All I want is you. The world goes away when you're near me. And it's such a wretched place, I'd really like to get away, and I'd love to take you with me, to be let be to be.

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  Fool’s Journey

  I arrived at the conclusion like any other traveler at the beginning and end of the fool’s journey: I set out with no consideration of origin nor awareness of destination.

  I met a magician who did his best to warn me of an illusion I couldn't yet see that somehow destined everything. He sent me away and I met a girl who became like a god to me. She was all ladies, if the blood’s flowing. Voodoo woman showed me what a connection was. A mysterious and vital essence she had all the time but which I could only get from her. For reasons I can't identify, she needed something from me, too. Though still I can say I don’t know what. Unfortunately, she said goodbye sorrowfully and sent me off to the queen.

  Who, I wouldn't have known, had already made a bargain for my soul with generations untold based on lies I wasn't allowed to know; but, at least they let me sleep outside in the cold. She was selling the status quo. A value she put upon my head, for me to get the blessing of the king. His fluoride kisses and parasitic grins reminded me of something the magician had said, "Live by the isotope and die by it, too."

  They couldn't mock me anymore. I knew truth. Wherever I went. I could explain what I knew about profits and oppression. Me and my kind were welcome with open arms. This is when the hierophants shine; at the cross roads of the old way and the new way. Success and prosperity or annihilation and decay.

  The path was obvious, all I had to do was wait for the right day, and when the morning came I’d say goodbye to hopes of love and ride a chariot off into the morning light. So we rode until the shades of night. Whensoever a jaguar came upon my slumber snarling to devour me by midnight hours. I knifed him and he lingered waiting for me to fall asleep. I remained in focus deep; weary eyed as he stalked about the darkness, I held the blade ready.

  Until, upon the witching hour a man with a lantern arrived and the cat went away. This crimson robed wizard stayed with me and spoke of when him and the cat used to do battle in his youth. Years later, cravings know better. I never imagined I could fight jaguars, even up so long kept. A new day dawned and the hermit wandered off and after several hours of sleep caught up; I woke up and wept, I'd had dreamt I'd made a friend; I'd dreamt the priestess had come back again. Then I mounted the chariot and road into the wind; covering distance.

  I learned to sing and dance and even encountered romance. It wasn't her the same, but it was her none the less. At least that's what women say about men. Our identities are not ours to defend. It’s a woman’s when we begin and it’s theirs until the end.

  In the next surreal city the man I met changed my perception. He was upside down five feet off the ground. He let me hang with him and became my friend. The perspective he offered inverted the human overtone until I found myself with everyone else wandering around in hell. I saw all manner of evil, and could not suffer such a place to remain. Nothing was as they had told me. They had told lies clear as day. Looking at their lies upside down, in my mind I find freedom in my heart and see slavery across the chart. I can see the way gravity weighs on our feet and how we’re really falling with each leap. We spent months hanging together. Watching the world pass us by, we saw the waxing waning tide. Gravity weighs on us and pulls powerfully while we rip each other apart and slaughter the mother earth. I wish he’d been a girl.

  When I came down from the branch the decision to harmonize was nature. The world could suffer all around me but I had to adapt. We all do. There is a natural way and all is a flow and we spend our whole lives separating ourselves from what we are- alive and at one- to be in the bloody tragedy erupting. I had come into the wuji without a clue of what was going on. I had the perspective, yes. I was within the new motion of now, but I didn’t yet know somehow who I'd become. It was what I’d always been but I was on the other side of what little I knew, by where I knew nothing.

  I felt good. There was harmony surrounding me. All I had to do was listen for the peace then feel it within me. It was all around me: in the sunlight, the air, and trees. Everyday the silence is begging you to be at peace. And when you know this you’ll find rest and a sense of ease.

  Finally, as the inferno rages around you, and you listen admirably to the flames cackling psychotically; the devil awakens within you. He is spirit born to extinguish the fires. He is all that is good, loving, and honest. He will do the most anyone can offer anyone. He is power. His rage is a rose he offers to you from his bloodied, eternally suffering, eternally dead, human hand, so much like your own. He picked the flower for you and you alone. So that you might know what Baphomet knows. Be true to yourself and no one else. You are your protector. Your provider. Your divider. Your unity. Your submitter or your conqueror. Whatever you want for yourself is what you can have, but you have to want it enough to make it happen and be willing to die or get locked away trying. But always love. He told me, “You don’t have to like them, but you do have to love them.” He made sure I understood his idea, and then he returned to the other world of my spirit, from whence he came. Satan is in all of us. Waiting until you’re ready to hand you the rose of liberation only after you’ve found your own way to freedom.

  Later that day the war began and nothing was ever the same again. The fascists came for everyone and we tried to go after the enemy inside each other because once again, the devil, all along, was just us out of balance.

  Through dark nights we followed the glimmer of the moon. In the upside down reality we could only see the black shadows of forever night; the darkness our comfort, and the stars our hope; our hope that somehow those of us involved in this mess can overcome the hive mind of street democracy and show them to think radically. Then maybe the world can sustain.

  We’re kind of like the sun waiting to come up and turn the vampires to
dust. Except this is hell and our dimension doesn’t work that way. Peaceful inevitability is sentenced to death in the sustainability theft and this perpetual catastrophe is our judgment. We either survive capitalism and get through it or it kills us all. No matter what, this is where injustice dies. Because the rich will destroy humanity, and the planet is what is matters most. This is our judgment. Our fate will be destined on the merits of our journey. We do it for the world.

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  Occupation Verses

  We see the new world in our hands: little baby seeds/ We came to spread the truth and set people free from greed/ That is why we Occupy. That is why we defy/ Remain resolute when releasing enslaved minds/ Street credit is our main weapon against the war whores/ This is the township rebellion we've been waiting for/ We're more real than propaganda and sharper, too/ From within you'll have the best view to know what to do/ It began in Tunisia. It ends in skulls and hearts/ Not just another day in the revolution arts 

   

  We went to the sidewalk at Wall Street one night/ We ignored the police and fell fast asleep/ Divided far from left and right by insight/ We woke up barricaded with pigs neck deep/ We gave 6 interviews then walked out quickly/ They move people around as though we are sheep/ Bah bah mindfreak your will's rinsed, dried, and wrinkly/ Welcome to the movement, sleep on the pavement/ You can leave when you're arrested and sickly/ You'll help create a satellite settlement/ Solidarity. Neighborly anarchy./ That is Hartford. Our warmth is their enslavement/ Since activism's become psychopathy/ Promises of dialogue drift off gently

   

  Waiting outside the capitol/ For abolition and reform/ Accounting for the capital/ Dollars burning conformist ash/ We live among the street people/ Equality is for us all/ Compassion is the principle/ We scrawl and sprawl where the low fall/ We evict pharma zombies though/ Somehow justified, I don't know/ When we march on the capitol/ It makes the struggle worthwhile/ They might kill you at the concourse/ Cap US with an itchy pistol/ Occupy the source of the force/ Capital's the root of evil

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  Hartford Occupation Manifesto

  People say we're inspiring. They use words like wonderful and phenomenal. Older activists tell us this world wide movement is different than any grass roots justice action in living memory. Among the encampment we're as enthusiastic and optimistic as the pervasive grim realities allow us to be. We're ecstatic after decades of despair to finally see progress. People are talking about what we're talking about, and at this time last year such a thing seemed utterly impossible. Now we know everything within reason is possible but we need each other to accomplish anything. It's up to you and yours whether our efforts are too little too late or, instead, become a catalyst for the change we need and may well have no hope without. We urgently ask for you to talk about this to everyone you know so the right people can hear. There's so much to be done and we're trying to come into our own, which is an exciting if not nerve racking experience; as our souls become invigorated by threads of our interconnectedness and we discover our own self worth; an invaluable asset. These occupations are a gift from all of us to each of us. We've created wonderlands of truth and justice, so make the most of them while you can and one day we will have the freedom to peaceably occupy the entire planet and evil will have no shadows to hide under in the overwhelming light of truth.

   

  The movement requires, foremost, dedication. This is a global revolution with global solidarity, so don't be afraid. We're finally aware. Or almost are, at least. The local colleges stand beside us to oppose totalitarianism and we hope you and your fellow people do, too. Soon the metaphorical fires will burn hotter than we ever imagined. Perhaps this calls for a military mutiny... Turn the guns up the chain of command and we will have freedom. This is why we must remain cool and calm like water. Don't fight fire with fire, fight it with water. Truth is fluid. We're here for the future generations. Occupy now and create justice while you still can, for we are our brother's keeper. The truth has made us free. This is a natural response to the fierce urgency of now. This is the people's rebellion and we don't make concessions. We value community, humanity, and sustainability as peaceful means to a peaceful end. This is about truth, freedom, and justice.

   

  This document is the homogenized and synthesized thoughts and opinions of a random cross section of occupiers from the Hartford contingent of the Wall Street Occupation. We are your friends and allies always and forever, no matter who you are. This occupation, being always for the well-being of everyone, belongs to you personally and no one, nothing, else. Whoever you are. Wherever you are. Now is the time to take it upon yourself, within reason, to do the right thing, regardless of consequence. This is about liberation, empowerment, resistance, and occupation as a means of truth proliferation. The truth sets us free.

   

  We're a loving alternative to the economic suicide pact of exponential growth and finite resources. We've got to stop the needless killing of our own kind. There is no salvation in turning your back on anyone. We've got to embrace us all. You don't have to like someone, but always love them. We have to love each other and treat each other like family. We're all in this together now. It's the alternative to violence. The options are peace, coexistence, and purity, or a cataclysm of unimaginable horror. With such an easy decision it is no wonder our numbers have swelled in such a way.

   

  A noteworthy request of ours is for results. We want a peace time economy. We want obvious things like a nationwide end to the arms industry, an end to illegal nuclear facilities, an end to the Tesla technologies catastrophic science experiments on the ionosphere, an end to the carbonic acid water, and an end to the ecocide worldwide. We want access to covered-up government information, such as about clean renewable energy. We need a massive energy reform effort now to help us brace for the transition away from burning oil. Also, if we could flip the heads of state and get some top secret files, the release of suppressed information and technology could provide a civil revolution by itself. This is to suggest we invade the rabbit hole.

   

  Before we began burning oil the global population of this planet was 1 billion people. After 120 years or so of oil consumption the population is at 7 billion and dangerously close to suffocating, poisoning, and otherwise slaughtering the habitats and inhabitants of this planet as we approach peak oil and face existence with little or no access to the substance which plays the morose tune of our dismal dependence dance. Good riddance.

   

  We want to end the exploitation of the have-nots by the haves. That paradigm has to go. We all require what we need and if any person wants for no good reason what another person needs for a good reason, people should not tolerate that kind of theft. Our enemy, if there ever were one, is the conduct of powerful people who are corrupt and have warped moral codes. This entire situation is a threat to all of us. The propaganda hammers into us these lies about the middle-east and fake foiled terrorist plots and we accept our fear implantation because the assumption of fact after being told an authoritative story is a backward habit of most people at large. For that reason, honesty is a capable dynamic for keeping information organized. The government should make a note. We only know any of what we do because the truth cannot be hidden and the serpents in our midst reveal themselves for what they are if you pay close enough attention. The United States wages war on the Middle-East and says they're a threat to us; whether by some vague propaganda over a failed shoe bombing or in an epic false flag attack at ground zero.

   

  Hunger. Clean water. Basic necessities. That is how life lives. All this extravagance creates wealth disparity and suffering and that is a lesson we have to learn well. Everything in this world belongs to very few people who own us like slaves. They neglect the nuts and bolts of their ivory towers. This is what we mean when we say we are the workers; we mean, because you neglected us, the whole structure of this tower is coming down in a controlled demol
ition. This country exports death. We create death as the foundation of our way of life. In Connecticut, especially, there are industries that exist for the soul purpose of creating machines to kill people across the entire planet. Those jobs are in this state because psychotic people have no conscience and no problem with taking blood money and turning a blind eye to the aggressive policies striking against the people of this planet. Then, of course, the rest of us need jobs, so we sometimes take blood money because it's all we can get. This is what you can expect when you manufacture death. Absolute power corrupts absolutely. This schema has to end here. We need a reversion or we'll have an extinction. Not more technology, less. Not more oil, less. Not more money, less. Not more lies, less. Not more enslaved minds, less. Always more truth. Social Darwinism is anti-community.

   

  As the system abandoned us we watched the jobs going away before our very eyes, to nations with no regulations and cheap labor. Oppression is alive all over the world and in countless ways. There are consequences to our actions and if they try to ignore the issues we're telling you about, then the end result of this situation will reflect that. This effort will take every single one of us- you and your friends and family. We are aiming to undo inequality. The equation of humanity needs to be balanced; the violence has to end; and to this our sisters worldwide are key, so recognize. Smash the patriarchy and relax.

   

  We are against the privatization of land, and the government seizure of national lands; which by association become uninhabitable like everything else related to authority and power. Living in cities like sardine cans is what the ultra-rich want us to do. Sustainable living awaits us beyond the 'keep out' signs, but it isn't profitable in any monetary way. At home we deal with outwardly extravagant and inwardly tragic suburbanization as we create grotesque, termite like, suburban sprawl, while all the while, better communal lives await us in wide open lands off limits currently; places in the West outside Babylon and somewhere over the rainbow. In our land, in our time, they strip freedoms away day by day; they own us and control us if we allow them to dance the totalitarian two-step. We can't swim in our back yards. Can't be free to be ourselves in public when the cops will harass anyone for no reason at all. Can't be around after dark because the prison industrial complex wants you to be a dollar sign out of mind if you live on the street. This is inequality in your face. And crime. In your neighborhoods money for public service is dispersed amongst the shady characters in your midst and the public school systems or the homeless suffer. On average one penny of your tax dollar benefits the people; the other 99 pennies get embezzled or go to war. More war. We need always less war, not more. And the food... Pray our people can somehow uncompromise the food supplies; preservatives are not nutrients.

   

  We can do great things and so much more. All people need is support from each other and they can make anything happen together. We have to empower each other. Power to the people. Power to the little people. Power to the old people. To the broke people. To the homeless people. To the different people. The jailed people. The beautiful people. The hungry people. The war-torn people. The maliciously plagued people. The everyday people. To the revolutionaries and visionaries. Take the power back from power tripping legislators- local or national- hiding in plain sight behind guns, or take the money from insurance executives hiding behind armies of lawyers. Insurance should be a public service that makes as much money as it costs to run. As it is now it is privatized thievery from us all. Like industry tends to be.

   

  Take the power back from the police forces. They make us like children punishable by their false accusations; traumatized by their constant harassment; and subject us to the obvious extortion of money from the poor to fund local criminals; holding offices, making laws, and laundering money behind the scenes. Segregation exists between north end and south end. This culture is neglectful of the disenfranchised. That could easily be you with nothing to lose. Then, with nothing to gain the government casts aside veterans while the insurance blood suckers love to use the vulnerable vaccinated children to drain money from our families; while the prisons consume the best of us and breed criminal non-conformists to suffer at our prejudices; and in our desperation we turn our backs on each other at every corner, when that is the opposite of what we need to do. Propaganda and patriotism have synthesized a hypnotized and satiated population of weak minded, apathetic, arrogant, ignorant, rabid people. For thousands of years the rich enslaved our minds and souls so we couldn't use the truth against them. The internet has set us free. The whole world knows now what has happened to us. Many of us were raised in a false security. 9/11 changed things. And slowly we began learning the truth about conspiracies and lies. We've come together in this struggle against plutocracy. Our occupations are a worldwide occurrence. Today is the 32nd day. By spreading the truth, we will win. We have to set each other free from financial tyranny. We have everything to gain by showing the unadulterated truth.

   

  Because we are under or un employed. In a very real way we are uncertain we will have a future. We look around and see nothing but instability. Perilous losses are a missed payment away for most people. It's not fair and it is dangerous for the entire planet. Anything can happen at any time in any one of our fragile little worlds. We have to fight back. This is the time for general strikes. Don't pay the financiers or bankers or any agency collecting money. If we all stop paying together, no one will pay, and we could bring down every slave driving baby killing capitalist in such a way. The solidarity of the strikes is like this: If you stop paying, then your peers should not, in good conscience, let you stand alone and so should stop paying, too. Which will benefit them in money saved. Soon all will no longer pay out of solidarity to the universal struggle. We could take back the world with strikes at this point. Striking is the way to free us from slavery: be it wage, debt, tax, or physical. Defy your extortionists, but do it with 10,000 of your friends. The 99% will support this effort because it is tactically sound; we will be in it together. Defy now, before striking won't work. We have to push their hand and see what they will do if we have any hope of staying on top of the struggle. This is an insecure time and what comes next might be the most beautiful thing any of us could have ever imagined. Or, we fail, and capitalism sends us back into the ground and makes crude oil of us. It is difficult to see a future in this dim light. Our loved ones suffer and that is not acceptable, especially when we are our loved ones. So step up for a better way for the people who can't do it themselves. This economic calamity is none of our faults. But it is our problem. So, we aim to erase suffering in any ways we can. Our lives are terrible because the world is terrible. We either allow this tyranny of our hearts and minds to continue forever unchallenged, or we cease, desist, and welcome the reality check of this drastic ecocidal situation. Our ‘one demand’ has to be ‘all demands met.’

   

  As it stands, any company with a commercial, a logo, and a shortcut can destroy any part of the planet they want for any purpose they claim valid as long as it all falls on the bottom line of profit. Yet, somehow, unfortunate minded citizens claim millionaires earn their money, when, in actuality there is no way for any one person to earn such large quantities of money without exploiting somebody, eventually… if not immediately. If we allow capitalism, as it functions currently, to continue unchecked, it will kill most life above ground and most life in the water. This is glaringly obvious to those of us paying extra attention. It is unfortunate the press has puppy parades to report on and uncovering corruption and injustice isn't their main priority.

   

  Occupy is for the future generations. We are people. We are animals. We can be part of the world, for better or worse, or we can be separate from it- worse off always. Our minds can only flourish to the degree they can grow on fluoridated water. Our masters keep us trapped inside ourselves with televisions and indoctrinated educations; this compartmentalization doe
s not allow us to see the entire picture of kings and kingdoms and the men behind the thrones giving orders. There are serfdoms and misinformed armies. One is starving while the other is slaughtering. Like always. If only we could live and work together without money. We are weak to allow them to keep the best of our youth far away in the lands of war crimes. People claim to have a clue, but letting our family be sent to kill and die is our first mistake. We are failing them to allow this to go on. You must learn from those who have found the truth before you. Such people can be found at the occupations. You will even find such a person within yourself at the occupations.

   

  Get the unofficial version of the story of what is happening from us; the version that rings true to the facts. The real life facts decimate the executive story of the events that transpired over the last ten years of history in this disaster of ours. Even hard working people can't make a living. There is nothing left for any of us. It is an illusion and they are extracting the final profits from us. Soon they will abandon us, like the homeless, when there is nothing left to gain. There is too much slavery. There is too much want. Few understand what we need. Instead, as we try to put the puzzle pieces together, we find in each other varying degrees of knowledge, various degrees of understanding, and different definitions of 'ideal.' Many will advocate for a 3rd party populist movement and more power to them, but they- perhaps like you- still have faith in a government that has done the most harm to the most people world wide; including harm done to people in our country; for instance, by having offices like the USDA, FDA, and EPA with no accountability or transparency. Really, accountability and transparency are all any of us can hope from for each other. The truth and honesty are really all any of us need.

   

  We require wholly different economic designs, ideals, and principles. We need to want less. We need what we need. And we need to not give away what is rightfully ours for no good reason. It's highway robbery. The rich stealing from the poor. Stealing from so many, since all have so little. We should hope for a design akin to pure communism, which could in theory simultaneously be pure anarchy. Third party populist movements are fine but unfortunate. Once we succumb to the system we've already got, it's all lost, because that thing doesn't work, nor will any amount of tinkering fix it in any meaningful way. The authorities will try to break us but must not succeed and indeed must never tame the radical spirit of Occupy. We should strive to cast aside the obsolete machines some of us are hung up on remaining enslaved to. Be practical: Demand the impossible. There is not much time. The 99% are combating 235(if not 20,000) years’ worth of lies, misdeeds, and crimes perpetrated by a bourgeoisie greed and a government, that, while designed for a population of roughly one million people is all this time later controlling populations numbering in the hundreds of millions; with no adjustment made for the population inflation. We want peace, not tragedy. We want everyone to get what they deserve. It's what people have always struggled for; peaceful lives free from the blood lust and power trips of others. In our eyes we envision utopia and can describe it to humanity. Our one demand is all demands met. That includes your righteous demands. Don't accept concessions and we'll make it all way to the big picture together. Solidarity and love from Occupy Hartford.

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  Don't talk to me/ When I'm eating/ I laugh because it's funny/ But I fucking mean it/ We'll be fighting the police/ for the right to kill a fetus/ Burying our friends/ who didn't fucking need us/ Drinking ammonia/ from a wine glass/ Standing by the church/ and calling faith crass/ Murder for profit/ bringing hell to you/ This is the end/ so what ya gunna do?/ Call your mother/ and tell her/ you love her/ this is the end/ end/ Cry/ for your dead god/ Dead god/ Dead/ God/ Hell is the place/ where I lay my head/ Emotionally vacant/ and better off dead/ Burning in the dark/ and suffocating doom/ Bleeding on the dead/ End coming soon/ We’ll flee to a casket/ and a cold empty tomb/ For now I'm alone/ in an ugly empty room/ Murder for profit/ bringing hell to you/ This is the end/ What you gunna do?/ Cry/ For/ Your/ Dead/ God

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  Kathy Acker had my attention/ Then lost it/ But what Wanda Coleman wrote/ About them blood thirsty cops/ That really got me cranked/ Those writers/ Don't matter/ Cuz/ I know a girl/ Who writes better than those girls/ I know a girl whose poems/ Immortalize their words/Like in a poet’s wishes/ A.R. Martinez/ Poetess of legend and myth/ All I can do is respect it/ And love it, hope to cherish/ What it is about reading poetry/ That makes you write poetry/ Only poets read poetry/ And only poets write poems/ All poets are inherently pathetic/ All poetry is inherently profound/ What brings you here?/ To under this rock/ What called you here?/ Who am I to You?/ When from a place/ That arguably never existed/ I write these words/ To you/ At a place that will/ Arguably never exist

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  Surprised to have a moment/ To just write a poem/ An evanescent moment/ As a black shade/ Slips across the moon/ Inspired by the eclipse to write/ Never was one so documented/ I'm lost in the shades/ In a magical moment/ My insides feel vacant/ I am lost within myself/ Inside the emptiness/ Of the moonshine/ Gasping for breath/ And HAARP!?!/ Weather control?/ Mad scientists!/ An evil government.../ Do you see?/ Do you see how long/ My free time lasts?

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  If a race of superior intelligence were to visit this planet they would be appalled by the wanton cruelty seemingly inherent to our species. The space travelers would find a planet being murdered slowly by a dominant race; behaving, in essence, like a cancer; transforming something living into the cold lifelessness of interstate highways, landfills, consumerism, etc. The visitors would not understand, at first, how the abundant resources of Earth became so misappropriated among the humans; most starve while others horde. They would find certain men of power have become far more powerful than others; an entire planet divided and conquered, everyone living in one form of submission or another, crushed by the power of those atop the pyramid. The visitors would feel, vicariously, the same sadness we feel for a once beautiful world horridly dying of skin cancer like the dearest mother.

  Initially they would see cities resembling rotten sores in contrast to the natural world, and then they would learn what is sustaining these enormous hubs of human activity. There is a system in place, the structure of which guarantees personal gain for whoever can turn raw materials, the living components of this planet, into a product or a service. Striving for personal gain is a consistent theme among this cancerous planet. The human gain has taxed the Earth so badly that horrifying ecological problems have now become a grim reality. Among these horrors are toxic fish living in waters as diverse as the Mississippi River and the Somalian coast. The worldwide extinction of various species of frogs is a clear indication that ecosystems can no longer support themselves. Clearly, smog is a terrible thing. Our societies are toxic.

  Next they might notice a phenomena in people like Rockefeller and Rothschild. A higher intelligence would understand that it takes millions of lives and incredible amounts of human suffering to create one Rockefeller. They would know that this world is an interconnected living organism and high gain means high loss somewhere else. This is why there is a 'third world.' In an ideal situation on this planet, everyone would take only what they need. Native people live this way; in harmony with the Earth. While our high population numbers will always be a burden on the planet, perhaps as a solution to our greed they would suggest our societies heed the advice of an old Zapatista saying that goes: ‘Everything for everyone and nothing for ourselves.’

  Finally they would see the problem here is control. A small group of people at the top of the pyramid control every decision of the highest levels of the governments that control the masses. These are the people commanding the politicians and they are probably bankers, because bankers control the money and money controls everything else. This world remains a dying place because a small number of men refuse to let go of their power. The scales hav
e been tipping for a while and only the people atop the pyramid can restore balance, but as time goes on it seems more likely they will never do so; they will never relinquish their power. If these men would let go of their power, there could be peace and food in Africa. There is no longer any excuse for war when we are aware of the cause. The greed of a few will be the end of all.

  The visitors would point out that our way of life is arcane and outdated. We, even common folk, still operate on the same principles of greed and taking too much for ourselves that are a hallmark of a doomed civilization which never really understood what it is to coexist. They would tell us we must evolve or parish. There are no other options. Adapting to a toxic world will only postpone the inevitable. If a race of superior intelligence were to land on this planet they would cry for every life form involved. They would cry for the planet and remind us that we are the planet, the planet is us, and we are terminally ill.

 

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  I can feel the target/ On the back of my head/ The laser pierces my qi/ We were never free/ Not since society/ Began the killing spree/ And today I raped/ The rhyming dictionary/ I'm doing it right now/ About the death we endow/ And the murder we avow/ Our undying mindless allegiance/ Zombies who never knew the tao/ The unthinkable occurrences/ Unimaginable disturbances/ A kid with no perturbance/ Like life was too perfect/ Then began the onslaught/ Against towers of innocence/ That were built for naught/ They raised and bred pestilence/ The evil never got caught/ Manufacturing nightmare thoughts/ Warm and comfortable we slept/ While overseas imperialists crept/ Gathering uncounted souls they kept

  It's hard for me to ignore the karma/ When all we need is a little dharma/ So what's a lovely song?/ If not a long evil daydream/ If you can't escape the universe/ Where will you go?/ Do you know about the ecocide?/ Have you seen the accident outside?/ It's no wonder they call us ghosts/ Do you know about Taiji?/ Do you know about qi?/ Life devolved from right to left/ Here we are obese and ill at ease/ Because if you were humanity/ What would you do about the USA?

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  Totaled Eclipse

  I can't say this nicely. So get over that before I begin. There are people who need to know what I have to say. Many are aware of the issue of police leniency toward men who wear uniforms. Might I remind everyone that leniency of the law is illegal and that those who commit crimes pay the consequences.

  Our Perp is a fire fighter (the cop is also a perpetrator). Hypothetically, this fire fighter might one day run into a building and grab a child. This raises the question: can he save the flaming child after having a DUI conviction?

  What if no? Then the officer, aware dui offenders don't do well, was looking out for the well being of a greater whole by not handing out a well deserved and undeniable dui. This is great for the Perp getting off all over the officer. But what about for the rest of us?

  We arrived at a smoldering celebration around that time at the end of the night when sexually frustrated men like to start fighting. My Comrade and I had been in the lesser hARTFORD area all day. We spent most of that evening wandering through bars drinking, and when we arrived to this far away place- where so many of us hail from- there was about two minutes of peace, before a situation occurred; involving a person lots of people care about and another person people don't care about at all.

  The Perpetrator had been behaving dubiously. He stole a car, but only kind of. He desecrated an additional assortment of sacred cows. Who knows? I wasn't really listening. There was all this drunk tail shaking around.

  A good friend of mine, the Resident, resides by the scene of the crime. I went to find him, and realized there was a miniature migration occurring toward the place where we'd been ignoring the drama and deviating the coercions of Birthday Friend and Perpetrators. Out on the street, tensions were running high. That's probably why we'd been walking away.

  We walked back, and my Comrade demanded we leave. He had my keys, but at this point we were only leaving behind some good people and an event with questionable stability. We drove through some clustering humans and took off down the road. I saw a bunch of boxes and debris in the street, I wasn't really looking. My Comrade saw a car crashed into a stonewall about ten feet off the road. The blinker was on.

  “Call 911,” my Friend tells me, then he sets about asking basic first responder questions, “How many are in the car? Can you move?” Etc. The Perp could indeed move because he crawled through the wreckage and out over the broken glass. Then he stood up and shrugged off the car wreck. The Perpetrator was heavily muscled, didn't have a shirt on, and kind of glistened in the headlights. I don't think those steroids did anything for his trouble shooting abilities because I offered to drive him someplace safe to avoid responsibility, an ass beating, and probably to get away with the crime, but he just kept walking down the street. Almost like he were certain he could get away with it on his own... Or brain damaged. At that point Flashlight was on the scene hustling behind the Perp.

  The Suspect was a tall guy who ran out to the Perpetrator. I reversed the car to my Comrade assuming the Suspect wanted to help the Perp. When I looked back, the Suspect was violently pummeling the Perp with his fists. I knew that would happen. Except I really didn't believe someone could be so morally devoid as to assault a person who one minute ago was upside down and crushed in a totaled eclipse. He wasn't the only one so reprehensible. Others were quick to aid in the assault. But hey, who hasn't been on the bloody end of that pressure valve?

  Eventually someone ran up and stopped the fighting... is what likely happened. We turned around and left. I had to bring my Comrade home. He didn't belong there. So I dropped him off and the Resident called to invite me back.

  When I returned to the scene only a hand full of people were standing in the street. We were all waiting anxiously for the cop to leave so we could go onto state land to get high. There were the sounds of a truck yanking a car from a stone wall and eventually the cop did leave. The tow truck followed shortly behind him. A flatbed floodlight illuminated a car crumpled and mangled on every surface; forward, rear, side to side, above, and below.

  The word around the campfire was this kid got a ride home from the officer and a $75 fine. I have no idea who heard that or how, because at this place right then the informed bystander to uninformed bystander ratio stood firmly at 1:8. There were only eight of us. The party ended when the Perp went off the road.

  This is not acceptable. It's bad enough people like me need to suffer under the thieving fist of justice in this country. Later on we have to watch that same hand open up and coddle modestly respected social servants. Their labor is having a title and hanging around waxing trucks until something burns. Their task is being expendable for others. Which is of course a personal decision and no law maker ever acknowledged suicidal volunteers are exempt from traffic laws. If they had, I wouldn't be writing this.

  All the time we hear, “the law is the law and when you break the law you pay the consequences.” Pay the consequences with money. Lots of it. Unless you wear a uniform. Especially a fire fighters uniform, because what townie out here isn't in the fire department? The fire fighter per household ratio is 1:1 in some areas.

  The DUI system is designed to apprehend the Offenders over and over again until they learn to stop. Or they're in jail where they can't harm anyone. Maybe you'll remember this quote, “If the machine breaks down, we break down.”

  The machine broke down when that cop let the drunk kid go, while so many other drunk drivers get nailed. I have never witnessed a more direct negligence of standard operating procedure. They just let him go with a fine. And I don't believe the assault Suspect was ever questioned. Maybe that cop felt that getting physically pummeled after wrecking a car was a fair punishment for any crime. And don't I disagree. It's certainly better than a DUI.

  The main violent Offender here, the Suspect, is a mixed martial arts fighter. If you have any skill at all in detecting a possible scourge on hu
manity, then you've likely noticed the negative effects of too many young men overly enthusiastic of incessant and random acts of violence; or sexual frustration, as I call it. They're like lions and hyenas. If those two animals were a lot less interesting. All I'm saying is; violence begets more violence.

  And can we drop the law yet? This is the age of enlightenment. This is the age of information. Subsequently, this is the age of ignorance, because knowing burns. The hypocrisies we struggle against today are in our faces at every turn. The law does nothing we can't do ourselves. Next time, we'll get the Perps 75 dollars, mail it to the state, and the cops can just stay at the donut shop. Of course, if next time the Perpetrator doesn't wear a uniform for a hobby (fire fighters volunteer), then we'll be sure to regard them, whoever they are, as common street trash. We'll garnish their wages until at least $2,000 is in the state's pocket. That's about the most you can squeeze out of a drunk, ain't that right judge? The judge says, “Oh, gosh no, we can get 5 figures pretty effortlessly. One way or another. Pay the lawyer. Pay the prison with your presence. Pay the state. Just make sure you pay somebody.”

  This is extortion. This is mismanagement of power. Misdirected civic guidance. If civil servants are above the law, why aren't I? I'm a civil servant. You think I like wasting an afternoon to blow the whistle on some anonymous and irrelevant pig?

  Tear down the system and this cop's behavior makes perfect sense. The kid had a brand new car. He was in an intense accident. Then he got assaulted by about three people. His punishment was self evident. But justice is blind, and she doesn't see the shades of grey like we do.

  In a better light this cop is a pioneer of human decency. Always put the person before the law, and together we might be able to transcend this pointless oppression stemming from an out of touch- and self-sustaining- system thriving off of our energy then desecrating the only lives we got; the government. How can these laws- the dictations of no one from nowhere- govern us better than we can govern each other? And don't just put those people in uniform before the law, put all people before the law. A government hero is nothing to be.

  In the end, everyone was grateful the kid was alright. If that kid died, or maimed, there would have been charges brought against the home. And do you see the flaw in that logic? We fear outside intervention from the capital, lawyers, or insurance companies, more than we fear tragedy within the community. Money is slavery. And cops are the whips with which our backs get cracked. I'll be following up with the department. See if we can't get this Perpetrator a DUI and return balance to the evil empire. Who's with me? Not the Perp, I'm sure. Actually, screw it. Who cares?

 

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  The Lion & The Scorpion

  When Leonard arrived at the zoo he became very ill. They'd brought him in with helicopters, darts, and trucks, from his home in the savannah to here, where him and all manner of creatures are kept in cages like we are. For days he didn't move. Nobody thought he would survive. He looked sickly and frail. Then, when his strength finally came back to him, he obsessively surveyed the enclosure. He sniffed every crack in the wall and memorized the schedule of every worker.

  Leonard was a dangerous lion because his love of freedom meant more to him than living itself. The cages were an insult to him and he was born with freedom in his blood; there was a chance he could be crushed under the weight of his isolation. He belonged in the tall grass with a harem of lionesses. Or even to be cast out to wander with the nomads was preferable to incarceration. To Leonard, life in a cage was not a long term option.

  Instead of speaking to us, he ignored us. He observed the feeders or the other employees of the zoo. These were the humans that ran the entire operation and they wore a blue uniform with accessories that shimmered in the sun. Around their belts hung guns and other weapons used to harm and cause injury to the animals that could not behave in the unrealistic and complacent manner that is expected of them.

  Humans were the enemy to Leonard. So he studied them, because to defeat them he first had to know about them. And as days passed Leonard became fearful; realizing there was nothing he could do to escape the zoo. The keepers were too organized and he knew nothing of the design of the zoo itself. Even if he could have escaped from the pits and red rock walls of our enclosure, he wouldn't know where to go. He had no idea what was beyond the zoo.

  As Leonard began understanding there would be no escape for him, it caused him to lose his appetite. He climbed to the highest point in the enclosure; atop a stack of boulders. He could see several other enclosures from there. Animals that- were he back with his pride- would make good dinners. Gazelles and zebras and water buffalo roam in a long fenced in meadow. In another area is a large chain link bird enclosure and a path leading through the exhibits. Closest to us are the rams, sheep, and lambs. Daft, witless, hostile, animals. Pitiful because they weren't blessed with wits, charm, and strength, like ourselves. They seem to mindlessly butt heads all day. Leonard wanted more.

  He remained atop that rock and did not come down. The men in blue would poke him and push him with long black poles which he'd lunge toward with his sharp claws. Eventually they would go away and leave Leonard alone. Never for long, though. They often returned to throw food at his face from the ledges. Alas, after not eating, he became too hungry to roar at the tormentors.

  Sharing the pit with him were two fabulous and healthy lionesses. My sister, Shells, and myself; Drea. We were born in this zoo and have no idea what it is like in the outside world. Nor do we care. We're comfortable living in the cage that has been provided for us by the establishment.

  We have seen others come and go. More often than not it ends the same way for born free lions trapped in here. It wasn't our business to pry and we hadn't said a word to Leonard. We didn't want to exacerbate the situation by accidentally upsetting him.

  Regardless, he lost his appetite as he began realizing there would be no escape for him. He wouldn't swallow a single bite. He was too distressed to eat.

  After three days passed and Leonard still hadn't eaten, Shells walked over to the boulders and climbed up to be eye to eye with him. Standing on her hind legs between one rock and Leonard's spot above, she said, “Hello.”

  “Hi,” said Leonard.

  “Are you ever going to eat again?”

  “When I'm not sad. I guess I will.”

  “How will you ever feel happy if you are sick from not eating?

  And Leonard said, “I have no choice. Surely, they will release me if I am dying of starvation.”

  Shells said, “No. They won't release you. They will let you die. They have better things to do then to take you back where you came from. They need to be out bringing more free spirits like you here. Not returning the sick ones.”

  “They should be stopped. I'd tear out their throats if I had half a chance.”

  “There would always be more and they would pay you the same courtesy as you gave their kind. I'm going back to our corner. Eat your meals,” Shells told him.

  “Ok. I will.”

  Leonard ate heartily after that. The zookeepers fed him until he couldn't possibly eat another mouthful. He ate the house mystery meat that was never fresh and always tainted by chemicals and medicine. Eventually he regained his strength, but he couldn't control the pests and parasites. There were infestations all over his body. The environment wasn't natural and he didn't cooperate with his captors hygienic protocols; insects gathered in his fur like clutches of countless tiny creepy crawlies.

  Leonard stared out to the plains beyond the fences wishing for a solution. He hadn't been down from the boulders in over a week.

  My sister and I kept to ourselves. While he was no threat to us, we couldn't help but to feel a little sad for him. His burden was a great one. His melancholy brought happiness to so many humans; his hopelessness gave them joy.

  Being several years older than Leonard, we had seen similar events transpire prior. We couldn't help the other wild one
s, we had no reason to believe we could help Leonard. Then, something we never expected happened.

  Leonard was atop the rock as always when a scorpion climbed up from below. She was slender, much smaller than his paw- laid out- and her pincers were the thinnest around. She was jet black in color. Her stinger was lifted cautiously as she approached him. There was insects for her to eat.

  The big cat was asleep and the scorpion, her name was Antares, began to eat the feast of insects that had gathered on Leonard's accumulating sores. As Antares ate she laughed to herself and the tiny laughter alerted the dozing cat. He barely opened his eyes. There she was. A little creeper.

  Antares saw Leonard staring at her and clickity clicked her little legs to position her stinger where it needed to be to be driven into his flesh. Leonard didn't even lift his head.

  “Do it,” he said.

  Antares, frightened and confused, stung him one time. Leonard winced into a ball and the scorpion jumped off him. Leonard had a tremor, then rolled himself off of one rock, down to the next, then rolled away again to the ground below. The keepers saw this and they took him right away to medical services.

  When they returned Leonard to his cell he was recovering. The sting had stopped his heart and for a moment on the medical table he died. When he crossed over to the other place, he had encountered Antares on the other side. She awaited him in death as though she were the size of life itself. As though she were the next world and he was a guest within her. From that moment on she became the whole cycle to him. Life, death, afterlife; the scorpion was there, waiting for him wherever he could ever be. The usher and the host, I suppose.

  Leonard was only in his cage until the first night fell before Antares came back to visit him. It was the night after they had first met.

  “Why did you do that to me?” he asked.

  “It is my nature. And you told me to. I was afraid,” she said.

  “You never have to fear me. You're the most beautiful thing in this world. You are free. In this place and the place beyond here. I am kept here against my will. You can leave anytime you want.”

  “I would never want to leave here. This is my home,” Antares said.

  “I need to leave this place. I don't belong here,” Leonard said.

  The scorpion created a burrow at a corner of his cage. When he awoke in the night, she was there to greet him. They talked about life. She told him about her freedom. He told her about captivity and about the splendor of roaming freely in the grass lands. He shared encounters with an angry hippopotamus and talked about the danger of hidden crocodiles. He told her about love. She devoured his pests.

  He told her how a lion’s love is the purest in the land. She didn't agree. She protested, “A scorpion can love a lion in the way a lion can love another lion.” And he knew she was right. Because Antares had the power of freedom and when you are free more options are available to you.

  After Leonard recovered he adapted his sleeping pattern to spend every possible moment with his beloved Antares. They were the best of friends. Many days Antares burrowed deep into his mane to be away from the sun but still remain close to him.

  At this point we were watching carefully. His nature had been suppressed, but it could not stay that way forever. Everyday he ate his food, and slept or played, he drank water, and whispered with Antares all night.

  They would visit with us twice each night; after dusk and before dawn. We always loved our time with them. Antares, yes, but especially Leonard. He was one of us the way we were meant to be, not the way we are. A wild creature of power who earned nobility through his natural honor. Meanwhile, Antares brought out the best in Leonard. It is unfortunate Shells and myself cannot breed. Leonard would have made handsome cubs filled with his indomitable spirit.

  “Who knows about the outside?” Leonard asked us one night.

  I told him, “The Centaur. He is nameless. He visits on the bright moon that follows each equinox. You'll have to wait.”

  “I have to wait here?” he complained, “I need to escape.”

  All three of us looked at each other. He hadn't talked about escaping since he'd been stung.

  He picked up on our reactions and said, “I've faith Antares will join me.”

  Antares said, “Even if I would go with you, how are you going to escape from this prison.”

  “You're going to help me. I can handle almost anything they can throw at me on my own, and if I should fail, then you, my love, will be there to defend me. Right? We can go be free and be together.”

  “We're free now, Leo. It might not feel like that. But we can be in love here without having to sting and maul the humans in blue.”

  “Can't you see that what they do to us is so much worse than anything we could do to them? Especially for freedom.”

  Antares scurried down Leonard's body and through the enclosure toward the boulders. Leonard walked only steps behind her. We could tell he was hurting. Perhaps the scorpion was being selfish, but they both viewed the world very differently. Antares knew their differences inherently, while Leonard couldn't seem to understand the limitations of their relationship. For Leonard to stay put in this pit would be more conducive for their love than for Antares to help him escape. They could perish beyond the zoo walls.

  Their love was young. They enjoyed several black moons pretending there was no fundamental difference between them. Leonard blindly couldn't see it. Antares blatantly denied what her instincts told her was inevitable. She loved him because, with or without her, he was getting out. She knew he had a chance against the men in blue.

  Leonard was unfortunately unaware that as the days went on, his desire to escape had been eclipsed by his desire to never be without Antares. And this is a testament to Leonard's feelings for her. Because not a moment went by that he didn't think about breaking out. But not half a moment went by when he didn't think about his love for the scorpion.

  It was the first bright moon after the autumnal equinox. The night was well lit and the zoo mostly deserted when the nameless one walked past our enclosure. Leonard leaped to his feet atop the boulders and shouted at the barely visible figure of a horse with a man's torso, arms, hands, and head.

  “Are there still lions roaming free out there?”

  To which the figure replied, “Lions? Yes. But you are the last species of the big cats. The tigers, leopards, cheetahs, lynx, puma, and all the others have vanished, and some day soon the lions will, too. Most of you are like the sisters. Born to captivity in places like these.”

  “Where do I go when I leave here?”

  “You will never leave this place. Regardless of your efforts. Antares cannot help you and you are ignoring that crucial fact. The only one who can help you is yourself. Embrace her femininity as though your life depends on it, because you are weak of will and won't have other options.

  “You are a doomed lion. It is not your nature to do what is required.”

  Antares said, “Ask him about your health.”

  “Can I survive here?”

  “Your body can adapt well enough. However, your spirit will shatter your mind. That is only a matter of time. And not a lot of time. You have one hope. Go within. There you will find Antares. Embrace her, cherish her. For you owe her your life and you always will. Yah save you, should you ever forget that.”

  His namelessness walked away as subtly as he approached. Leonard and Antares nestled into the soft mossy corner of our pit. They whispered softly their love and helped each other cope with the fear of an uncertain future. And for several days they stayed like that; with very low energy, and we could tell they were entirely wrapped up in each other. They resonated a dim hum of unification. Only when the moon's phase shifted to black did we begin to notice Leonard becoming restless.

  Every day he bolted across the enclosure. He leaped up and over the rocks. He was off the wall, and even invading our space sometimes. He wanted us to attack him. I fought with him a few times. So did She
lls. We rolled around. His intention wasn't malicious. He needed to verify that he could put opponents into submission.

  The ideal situation would be for nothing to try and stop him. He could escape to the desert and search for more of his kind. And of course die before ever achieving that goal. Hurting the men in blue was in no way an option, anyhow. Too him, they were obstacles. To surmount with them, was to get in their heads, intimidate them, and make them panic. People go down easier than anything in the wild would. Except they use bullets like bees sting and are best avoided.

  From the rock he could have jumped high enough. But he couldn't do both. He would need to push the boulder against the wall, which wasn't going to happen.

  It was silent out; still completely dark. For Leonard, the sun had long been set. They'd been nestled atop his rock like any other night. He awoke from a nap and Antares walked along his spine to perch on his skull. He was sitting very still. Like the Sphinx; staring straight ahead.

  “I'm going to jump onto the ledge,” Leonard said.

  “You can't do that,” said Antares.

  “It's something I have to do. I'm going to jump the wall and go.”

  “No. You can't do that. I won't be here when you get back. I can't watch you kill yourself,” she said.

  “Come with me. Dig into my mane. I will make it, and we will go.”

  “Ok. I will go with you if you jump over the ledge. If not, you will never see me again. Or, we can stay here. And no matter what, you will always have me. Trust me. I love you. I know what is best. Don't even try.”

  “Get in and hang on.”

  Antares did what she said she would. Leonard stretched and paced around the rock for a moment. Then he positioned himself, ran two steps, and jumped as far out and high as he could. One paw reached the highest point of the wall. As he dug in his claws his face smashed into the rock and his clutch came undone.

  Lying in a heap at the bottom of the wall, he said, “Antares. You can't go. It is my nature. I love you. I'll never try that again, I swear. You are what matters most.”

  Antares heard him from overhead, standing on the wall looking down. She clickity clicked away without saying another word. He'd lost the only thing that mattered in this place. She couldn't tolerate his weakness.

  Leonard couldn't accept imprisonment. To be a slave for amusement peddlers. Come one, come all, from far and wide, see the final wild ones before there are no more left. We are victims of a pointless tragedy. And that is a sad thing to know. We are the last of countless generations of victims. Someday the humans will make victims of themselves.

  With so few of us, togetherness is important among most species in the zoo. Antares could not understand what was happening to Leonard. She had never been kept in a matchbox; a small clear dish with two others like herself, with a tight lid and no room to move.

  Leonard's furry cheeks were covered in blood streaming down from his brow. His eyes were destitute. He sat up onto his hind legs and began moaning for Antares. He called her name, over and over. “Antares. Antares. Antares. Antares.”

  This drew the attention of the men in blue. They shined lights across his face and took him away to medical services. He wasn't the same after that. When he came back he wouldn't leave his cage. His body was sprawled out and weak. He was suffering in a way we didn't understand. The door was wide open, but he was under the influence of catatonia inducing medicines.

  None of us knew where Antares had gone. We suspected she wasn't far. But no one knew. And Leonard was not doing well. He didn't look this bad after the sting. What was happening within him, we couldn't know. There is no way to know how another organism perceives the world. I learned this in Leonard but it is true for everything from blood sucking insects to lions to blood sucking humans.

  Antares had become his heart. He loved her. They were as united as two creatures have ever been. It was love, and a recognition that in their ghosts they were one. She made a choice to not watch him die. When the time comes for Leonard's sun to rise again, Antares would be there. All as it should be. In life's own ways, patterns, and cycles.

  Days wore on and the scorpion never came back. When we visited with him, he always asked us about her whereabouts. We couldn't tell him anything. He begged us to make an attempt to locate her. He was too ill to move around. The birds, or the bats, maybe they could help him. We were not going to interfere. And likely, the birds and the bats would not interfere either; for their own reasons.

  Another week passed and he began to recover. He was eating again and no longer talking to us. He began lounging up top more often. He was silent. His eyes were lost. His movements were listless. His appetite was voracious. Occasionally he would steal portions of our meals. We didn't mind. We understood. He wasn't well.

  His eyes never came back from the other place. His vision went with Antares, wherever she'd gone. However, through his own necessity, he did get active again. He stalked the free birds that appear sometimes, and he hopped the rocks all day every day. Waiting.

  At night he watched the hoofed animals roam. He watched the bats fly freely at dusk. He fell asleep when the birds woke up in their coups. That was a routine of his.

  Until one bright moon night, when we heard the clip clopping of horse hoofs approaching. The nameless one appeared as a silhouette in the moonlight; enormous, bare, and very interested in Leonard.

  Leonard bolted to the high rock. He said, “Antares? Can you tell me where Antares is?”

  “Antares is with the rams. Specifically, a dominant ram named Loser.”

  Leonard chuckled at the name then asked, “Will you release me?”

  “I don't have the key. Otherwise I would.”

  “Reach out and grab me. I can make it.”

  The nameless thought about it for a moment then said, “Alright, let's get it over with.”

  He didn't say goodbye to us, or even look our way. He just stood up, positioned himself, and jumped out as far as he could toward the centaur, whose outstretched hand grabbed hold of Leonard, and used powerful horse muscles to create momentum to throw him roughly onto the trail. When Leonard was beyond the ledge we ran up the tall rocks to see what was going to happen.

  He thanked his namelessness, bounded immediately over the short wooden fence into the Ram enclosure, and demanded to see Antares. The animals living there awoke simultaneously and scattered.

  Several of the adults immediately approached him. They stood ready to headbutt him and wouldn't let him pass to the mouth of the cave where Loser stood. Without thinking twice Leonard attacked the rams; slapping them hard in their faces or gripping them by the waists and throwing them far out of his way.

  “Hey Loser. I need to talk to Antares,” he said.

  Loser stepped forward from the shadow, “That can't be allowed.”

  “Says you. Tell her I'm here. I know she is here. Antares! I don't want to escape this place anymore. I want to live here in the zoo, with you!”

  The other Rams were regaining their composure and orienting themselves in a circle around Leonard. I heard the owls calling for peace. The lambs clustered and whimpered. The herds of zebra and buffalo watched from their range, grateful the trouble was happening to someone else.

  “You have to go,” Loser said.

  “No. I don't want to fight you. Any of you. This is between me and the scorpion I love.”

  “No. We are between you and the scorpion you love. Antares is ours now. We are happy here.”

  “How? How can you be happy here? Locked away in this tiny pen? There is a whole world out there and you graciously accept incarceration?”

  “That's not relevant. You don't understand that what Antares want's is a warm body to gather the insects she feeds on. Your connection, love, is meaningless. I love Antares, as well.”

  “You're wrong. She wants more. She wants power. Look around you. All this, for her to show me how wrong I behaved? I get it. She wanted my strength and I gave her my weakness.”

 
Leonard was quiet for a moment. He looked around at the smaller rams. He saw the centaur watching from the fence in the moonlight. Then he looked closely at Loser. An ugly beast with stupid eyes and thick curling horns. His bulk was impressive for his kind, but hardly intimidating to a lion.

  He reiterated his demand, “Please. Let me speak to her. I will be quick.”

  “We won't allow that. She doesn't wish to speak to you.”

  “I don't believe that.”

  “Go away.”

  All around him the three smaller rams were tensing up. Leonard saw this. He looked closely at the cave hoping to see his beloved and saw nothing. He sighed in defeat, then faked a sudden movement. The first ram lunged at him. Leonard lifted it high into the air and slammed it yelping down to the ground. He wrapped his jaws around the base of the ram's throat, bit down once, and the animal went limp.

  Another butted into his backside. This sent Leonard spinning. He turned and snapped onto the beasts face with his teeth, locked the body, and twisted the skull until the neck snapped. Immediately, he dropped the corpse and his claws flew through the air into Loser, who had been charging. But the remaining smaller defender had lined up and bolted into Leonard's ear. After the blow, Leonard was wavering and unsteady. The large ram butted into his ribs, sending Leonard spinning.

  He arose and ran to a safe distance away. A flock of sheep scurried to the other end of the pen. Leonard shook his head over and over and stepped to and fro in place. He caught sight of the rams waiting for him to make his next move. Leonard roared loudly. We heard it. Every creature in the zoo heard.

  My sister and I looked at each other. We could hear his anguish. We could hear his pain. We could see the frightened rams. They looked to each other. They looked to the sheep as though they wouldn't ever see them again.

  Leonard attacked the rams. He ran through the little one and into the big one, flipping Loser on his back with a shoulder. Leonard roared again as he muscled Loser's head back and gored his teeth into the throat. The smaller ram meekly limped away toward the sheep. Loser kicked and flailed and Leonard didn't let go. Eventually, the ram wasn't moving. The bellows of a choking throat became weaker and fainter.

  When Loser finally fell limp, Antares dug herself out of his wool. She crawled onto Leonard's side and stung him once close to the heart with a full injection of venom. He shrieked and jumped back off the dead creature.

  He said to her, “I wanted to love you.”

  Antares said, “You did. You do. This wasn't about love. You wanted to be free. And now you will be. Wait for me in the next place. I will meet you there.”

  “I don't want to be free. I want you. And I can't believe that at the end, I've lost my respect for the only one I've ever admired.”

  Leonard couldn't survive a second sting from Antares. Right then and there his heart stopped, he went to sleep and he never woke up. It is troubling we cannot know if he is truly with the lighter part of Antares in the place where we west.

  When the men in blue came to clean up the dead, they found a scorpion perched on Leonard's body. They captured Antares and placed her in a small glass box in an exhibit with others of her kind. They call her the Lion Killer.

  She is still alive to this day, no longer free. The nameless tells us she talks about Leonard. She says that the events could not have happened any other way. It was nature. Leonard wanted to be free and wouldn't live in a cage. The scorpion's home was his prison. It was the misfortune of the rams that they fell in love.

  I think he could have transformed his nature for Antares and lived a long life in this zoo. But Antares knew him better than I did and she didn't believe he could. Not one for second chances, that girl. And merciless, too. We can't know what Leonard would have done, because he is gone. All we know is that Antares' judgment was constantly swift and final.

  We'll miss him and never forget him. We won't forget how he wasn't one of us. He was always free, even when he was here. It wasn't starvation or disease that killed him, like the other wild ones. It was love.

  Leonard was a lover of freedom and of Antares. It was a deadly kind of love that killed him. Love, to have a lover, demands full attention at all times. If love does not come first, or the love of an intangible comes before the love of another, love will be undone.

  $$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$

  Eclipsed

  This happened during the holidays in a place I know too well. This happened in the area I call home. A running theme.

  If you're an American you probably know similar places. We live in a district. Our district is three towns in a semicircle surrounding another more important and ominous place called Hookville.

  We live quiet lives out in these woods; these towns sharing a beat down meat grinder high school that has begun dissolving it’s affairs.

  In this story there are really only two characters. Primarily, the Departed himself. Secondarily, everyone else.

  At the beating heart of this community there is a Family. A beautiful and pure all American group of great People.

  In a world with scum like me there is a counter balancing force of kind people who represent the best of us. The rest of us will never understand what it is to be truly civil. There are no literary references pertaining to this Family and they cannot accurately be given an honest or worthy pseudonym because to do so is why I'm writing this.

  Two Sisters, One Brother, each sibling with a Significant Other.

  There is the Father in tears, the Strongest Man the Brother has ever known. And I am assured, that which will matter most is their strength and vitality; the living essence as so divinely expressed through this Family. The Mother must be beside herself.

  Let's call them the Harbingers. They live in Steinbeck.

  The Oldest Sister just got married. I remember that because I saw photos of their family posted on the internet a month or two ago.

  Before this moves forward, you need to know that contained in the wedding pictures of the Harbingers there were two Sons.

  I'm going to tell you what I know and do it from the beginning. I am going to surf the envelope of full disclosure and the disclosures I will take to the grave.

  I woke up one snowy and warm winter day to the eerie news that my friend's Brother was no longer alive.

  I even had to check to verify His proper name. I had always called him, 'Little Brother.' It is the will of a Greater Force I will continue to do so; in these written words. In my life He got a first name as soon as I learned what that name was. He was by no means Little Brother anymore to me.

  Meanwhile, the entire internet presence of our district was rallying around the Harbingers in their time of crisis. The outcry alone was of an incredible significance and should not be forgotten ever. Because it felt right when we left messages to the Deceased and said our goodbyes electronically, together.

  My friend, Older Bro, is the most kindhearted guy I've ever known and had just had his Brother torn away from him. I didn't know what to do except to send Older Bro a message with my kind condolences in it. At the end of the message I asked what had happened to the dearly departed Little Brother.

  I'd guessed it were a military thing. How I knew Little Brother made me figure that to be the logical conclusion. He could have been in the military as easy as the next guy, I presumed.

  But in the back of my head I knew enough about the world to know it were likely a car wreck, and even more likely, considering our District, a drug thing or a suicide, because we are pretty good drivers out here. We get the driving skills from flying through the foggy woods on windy icy roads year in and out. But we get the drugs from Hookville .

  Big Bro wrote me back telling me Little Brother had shot himself.

  A Kid everybody loved. A Kid renowned for smiling.

  ***

  I knew of someone who took their own life like a whisper.

  We live in Castaneda. Once, a guy, of about 26, up the street from me was facing life in jail because the internet had
gotten him into trouble due to his taste in young girls. That guy, who used to sell me drugs, hung himself before the trial; a sexual predator. No one said anything, a drugged out sex freak was dead. But I wager no one wanted it to come to that. This is something I would have rather not mentioned.