Last Night at club oasis in Oakland they painted a
ladie's dress while she was wearing it which must have
been some public sex demonstration, who knows? There
where little kids in the bar, lots of suits, fire
breathing, comedians and magicians, lots of puppets,
etc...
That is everything right?
Where am I? Where is my mind?
Is it not also an Italian restaurant? Was I on every
drug? Have I read every magazine, heard every song
read every book, seen every movie and every play? Have
I been around the world, climbed every mountain walked
and trenched through the globes forests and swamps?
Have I built alters to my gods, performed rituals of
tributary, built totems on the shores, feasted and
copulated till I could eat and fuck no longer? Is my
hair a rainbow of colors and my clothes emblematic and
informed yet distinctly individualistic to me? Do I
know the tongue of every race, had those jobs, known
those symbols, made those connections, seen it real,
been there, made it, held it all.
I'm the future and know the future, know whats coming,
what's in stock what will happen. Everything goes much
quicker now. I'm the child that trips and races to
death.
I want nothing, I am nothing, am the embodiment of
nothing. Formless. A void and devoid of any
characteristic. I am negative space. To want and
desire or to reject and dispel would be the beginnings
of my subjectivity. My face has no face. My tongue is
in a lack of words. If I enter a light room it becomes
dark. If I enter a dark room it becomes light. My
existence is a perpetual plummet through a never
ending hole, falling forever. I come from eternity and
that is exactly where I'm going.
The grabbing hands
Grab all they can
Everything counts in large amounts
dig?
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