them, those, these stories

[moseley]

we are all telling ourselves a story
and unto each other, yet another
as needs dictate and depends
upon some interpretation we deem as need
we know very little but because we know we know
we stick to the story we are telling
because we know it is right
it may change and it may adapt
and we do this, because we are right
we know we are right
of only everyone saw what we do
then, they too, would be right
and we would be right
and the story we we need to tell most is that
everyone is alright and ok and also
that we are all agreed
that is what we want to hear
nothing less,
because it validates our story
with it we have free parking
because we do not want to pay
not even one concession
but we tell the story
that we are the flexible ones
as long as all bends to what we are flexing
but, we all tell ourselves a story
and when necessary, we invalidate all others
because that is the story
the one we are telling
the one we are told
the one we make when things
happen
when we defend
when we bleed
when we hurt
in some adaptation
in some retaliation
it is all parts of the story
the RNA that commands the proteins to forge
the catecholamines to stretch
stay, rot or remain
or be eaten and replaced
then, maybe we are in a lotus field
eating all we can, telling ourselves a story,
a story of how far we have gone
while we are inebriated on some idea we believe we have been to
because we are it, or while we chewed, it came to us
life, death, the inevitable tax
the prices of want, the scourge of need
we are entangled in some story, story within a story
stories high and to the basement
if there is a foundation
our sandcastles stand
tesseracts form, ebbs and flows
tides rise and fall, light and dark
we marvel at meaning in the things we cannot mean
and know the things that do not mean
and declare we are more for the lesser,
for the sake of the lesser
the least common denominator that divides us
like names labels and things
which give doctrine and discipline
and so far,so close and never needing reach
we are all telling ourselves a story
a story that is far when we are close, close when we are far
a story that allows us to never see
because that story, does something, something we enjoy
and with it we experience all six senses and more in it
and it washes clean
but it is only a story
one of many like grains of sand on a beach, each one needed for all that it is, but without the rest
the rest is the story within the story
a story we need not seek
for it is the story we know
the story we tell
the story we are prisoner to
and yet, it is just a story
we are much more
we are unwritten
underwritten and sometimes
indemnified
sometimes indebted or indentured
and we all seek something
to belong to, it is the story
we are told where we are
God watches, God experiences these stories
and God has none his own, God has no God to counter,
God stands alone
that too, is a story

[moseley]

when a story ends...
life begins

[moseley]

then ends
adieu

[heartfelt7]

I never fully understand your writings because they are so out there, so surprising, but they "always" make me smile. Thank you.

[artolmaeus]

many times, I don't get them either, however, for the most part, I feel my subconscious is trying to reach me, and I just write everything out as fast as I can, even if it is shit....I share that stuff, then, sometimes, I just accidentally review something, and then, it makes sense to me....often, I feel, I was always writing to my future self, it was about two years past the point to where, I reached a day where I was able to say, for the first time in my life, that I was not functionally insane, at least it was a semi-functional thing, my own mother was not so fortunate, it overcame her in her forties, many times, it is a form of inner personal train of thought, and no one was on the train when it started, it is as if, you might have just hit the train well into its destination, so the origin points are all missing....I do not compare what I do to James Joyce, because he had the balls to put it out into to vox populi, but some of his work was train of thought, like the comedy work of Andy Kaufman, both these guys, I am still filling in the blanks they left to get the context, some of it is still obscure, but, to be read by anyone, and they make effort to understand over dismissing, is for me, a kindness....a musician without an audience can still be fulfilled, but, any audience hones the experience, maybe takes a large unworked rock and helps give it a form, if there is some feedback and not just an echo...all of this, the coarse stuff, the esoteric and God knows what else just flaps out my doodle, is in part, therapy, shadow work, my relationship with YHVH, Shiva and the thing that like electricity we can never quite see, but we know, is the thing life, of which we all, are more one with than individuals....it is some kind of surrender, some way of getting out the defense of an ego and for me, a kind of love where, the effort to understand someone else, is a great deal more....it is transcendent and not just some effort in either extrinsic or intrinsic work. The original poem that inspired "Cats" on Broadway says that cats have three names: 1. A scientific one 2. The one given by owners and 3. The one that only the cat itself knows......I think that in some way, the whole Broadway show was an effort for the cat to share its own private name with the world....Sabrina said something to me about me that I cannot deny or shake as she said it was like I was "matriculating" like some college student, maybe stealing the learning of others to get more less my own. Possibly, the way Samuel Clemmons said about writing, all great writing is thievery....but not so much plagiarism, as rather, the spirit of, the nature of, the way of perspective that other writers might give a toaster in that sure, it is a tool, but also, a dear friend, helping the morning be a companion to coffee because of exact level of toast it gives bread whether you are spreading a bovril, anchovy paste, marmelade or bacon on....even though all the things we put on toast, sometimes, it is the nature of toast that is more important than the noise we decorate it with....at one point, oh, it is just toast, but then, sometimes, letting it linger on the tongue, just tasting the slight burnt flavor, the texture or whatever the experience you have just eating a piece of toast can make a mere toaster a gift from God, even if you had to buy it from Walmart and you have not cleaned it in forever and it does not work as well as it used to, sometimes, the older toaster does something a new one does not....but when someone might say, "when the toast hit my tongue, I came in my pants because I remember Nancy's tits were poking through her shirt and she did not have a bra on, and I never told her about it, but I never forgot"...there is a certain level of pretense or back story missing and you just go gonzo into the experience, and not the causation.....then, too, being too abrupt or too graphic is more like picking up a really dirty rag, not knowing how much of what is on it sticks to your hand. It is an awkward theory, many times disproven, but one I kinda stick with, but at some point being an inglorious bastard just ain't as romantic as it once was...so then too, earnest feedback is a great milestone in maybe monetizing some of this, if possible. Oh my god, I could have just said thank you....seems I have difficulty being conciliatory, and believe me, my boo, Liz, gives me hell for that, often...much to her chagrin, I am holding to my guns like Yosemite Sam, for a great part of my watching cartoons as a kid, I never quite got the purpose to all his rootin and tootin, darn varmit ways, but, he sure as hell kept that up.

[artolmaeus]

I believe, I have tried to tie in alot of references to other works in my writing, just little parts of them. I feel it is best defined as plagiarism as I am referencing the stuff without any notice of its original source. I hope it is obvious plagiarism. Every good hero needs a fatal fault. Achille's heel. So like borrowing from Steely Dan, "they got a name for the winners in the world, I, I want an name when I lose. They call Alabama the Crimson Tide, calle me Deacon Blues". Maybe a corrupted character can also have a fatal flaw, and if done well, then, he is not an inglorious bastard, but an unabashed bastard. So, maybe this plagiarism thing could make me the J.R. Ewing of whatever writing world I have yet to be loved to be hated or loved or whatever may come in. In the 48 Laws of Power, Greene makes one point to court attention at all costs, good or bad. Brittany Spears and several others who have copied her have used this effectively. To further quote Nikki Minaj, "bitches saying shit and they ain't saying nothing, 100 motherfuckers can't tell me nothing:. Oh, I think she is wrong, I have gotten a great deal of stuff from bitches and at least 100 motherfuckers. Not everyone who is a Dudley Doo Right in real life wants to be seen so, privately, he wants to be a little more Snidely Whiplashly, even if he puts out a whole lot of Milquetoasty flappery.

[artolmaeus]

Most people are very kind and supportive. I have not had many ever say just how much shit my shit is. I think too I need that. Maybe even the best Youtubers on Youtube, get something from all their trolls, even if those sons of bitches are just serial asses. I hope I would not just piss my pants and cry with some cruel unrelenting critics.