Nuke it. Just to be safe.

Oh, I feel so much better now. I think it was that blasted story all along, and trying to remember who was who and what was talking when and how… one giant mess that I am so happy to be done with. No! Not really done-done… only reconverted into some other form of creativity. Something that the world hasn’t seen yet. Something… no one has ever dreamed up, including me. What will that be? I don’t know.

I know what it won’t be. Me on Dopey depression road. No thanks. Been doing that enough as a writer, it is time to let it all go and just… be me. Stop trying to impress anyone with words, and start being a real person with feelings and a big appetite just like anyone else… and maybe talk about my own town for a chance. I know so many people around here now… the hardware stores and… grocery stores… I know everyone… and they like me! Ha hah… see? Miracles can happen when you are lucky in luck. My only fear is that writing may still try to come back and start up again. In which case I will simply have to beat it back, and keep on having the fun I deserve. Real fun. Not the phony version you only read about. Blah! That is so dumb, and getting dumber all the time… that isn’t reality! That page isn’t my life, bless it all! I have a REAL LIFE HERE IN LB that stupid tripe does not own me! The story can rot. I did it enough… hey I tried. I gave it my best try ever and there isn’t anything more to be done! Now… what? Meet ups with Wanda and her friends for clubs and bunches and kissing, what else is there to live for? I have more happiness in one second with you, Wandy… than all the countless years and days I pecked away in vain. And there comes a time in a person’s life, where you just give, you say, “I have had enough, I am walking away.” And you do that. You go. You walk away and you wash your hands of the author’s prima donna madness of writing “that great work,” and you get back to your own life again. And begin living again. Instead of dying every time you pound out one more more.

GO AWAY STORIES!!! I lived enough of them already. It is only a beachy life for me, tans and suds. And maybe a decent magazine to read or something, but Continue reading “Nuke it. Just to be safe.”



Well…  back in the saddle, huh?”

“Yes. I guess so.”

“You sound a little sad.”

“I know I should not be, it is my style… I should be grateful.”

“I see you as grateful, all the time… grateful.”

“Thank you. You are sweet, my Friend. A really wonderful friend… I appreciate you.”

“I also appreciate you. Michelle. Do you want to be Michelle forever? And ever and ever? And ever?”

“No. That was only because… I got funned with that growing up. What Michael on Earth hasn’t… at one time or another… had to listen to someone calling your name out in fifth grade math. ‘Michelle… Michelle… what does it add up to… Miss… Shell… ‘ har de har and the whole freaking classroom exploded in howls and jeers. Just long enough for the teacher to get her howl in too… and then she finally brought the class to order. And scolded everyone.”

“How about you get a new name?”

“Like me guess…”

“I thought it was nice. Why not?”

“Okay… whatever. I don’t care. What can it hurt now?”

“You… are no longer Michelle. Today I give you a new name. You shall be…

Paula. Paula of… where I can I place you… who… really needs your message. Hmm…”

“Paula. Paula now?”

“Paula Now. That is a nice name too. Yes… that suits you…

Paula Now. A new, up and coming author. And a good one… because she is good? No.

Because I say so.”

“Thank you. I will wear it with honor and pride in what you always do… dear… imagination… above… how you always look out for me. How you… seem to understand me… I like you so much… even though I know my ideas about all of these… ‘out there’… places of the mind… are really all on shaky ground. Who can prove such a thing… so I can only take it so far with you. And then I must retreat… like… the chicken that I am…

Around You.

… cluk…. cluck cluck … cluk. cluk clucluc lcu cl ck ckc kkkk ccclll … cluck. cluc

Yes. Looks like the roosters all did come home to roost. After all. Doesn’t it?


They didn’t land in your back yard… and all fly into your chicken coop.


The all flew into mine.

And I don’t even have a chicken coop! 

Continue reading “xoxoxoxxo”

Good idea.

Beverly Schaeffer, M.D., attending physician at L.A. General – mental ward, looked at the still form of Michelle. “What is her status?” she asked the intern who was assigned to M-voo.

“Her status? Same as yesterday,” he answered. “Completely out of it.”

“Has she said anything? Spokane at all?” Beverly asked.

“No. Nothing more than occasional groans.”

“Hmm… what about her vitals, is she physically okay?”

The intern shrugged.”Physically, she’s fine. A little malnourished, I have her on a glucose-triLox drip right now.”

“What about the meds? Have you started her yet on my Zaphonol prescription?” Dr. Bev asked.

“Yes. We started her yesterday on that per your script… four times BD on, and then at night two-X times QD.”

Beverly frowned. “And she hasn’t responded to that?”


Beverly reached out her hand and put it on Michelle’s forehead. It felt cool but not unusual for this time of year. Brushed back her hair, and said softly from a distant place, “looks like the little shrimp girl finally got trawled.”

“What?” the intern asked with a puzzled look.

“Nothing,” Bev replied. “I was just remembering some of her journal entries she shared with me in counseling, she… well, she called herself a shrimp girl.”


“Why? Who knows why. Maybe she has a poor self-image.”

They stood around for a few minutes, sipping hospital coffee out of foam cups too small. Talking shop, and reviewing some of the charts of the other mental health patients on this wing.

“Let me know if she snaps out of it,” Beverly said and turned to leave. “Also… if she says anything. Anything at all, can you write it down for me? There might be some clues there.”

“Will do,” the intern said, and went back to adjusting some of the equipment that was carefully monitoring the poor girl’s condition. “She… looks happy though,” the intern added in a wistful voice. “Where do you think they go?”

Beverly stopped at the door and turned to look at him. “What do you mean, where do they go?”

“You know. When they lose it… the mind comes apart on them… where do they go then?”

It was now Beverly’s turn to shrug. “Beats me. Maybe they all meet up in heaven or something,” she chuckled and left.

Continue reading “Good idea.”

easy riding. 

Why… am I still waking up with so much disgust about everything, anger tries to build all over again… I know I am only hurting myself that way… maybe one day I can find someone to talk to. But I don’t have much hope that it will ever happen.

A story? A science fiction novel? Something fun or at least interesting? I would love to. Doesn’t the author have to be okay to do that? How can the author write out a fiction where everyone is getting along, life is nice, when they themselves, personally, are battling their own personal battles… how in the world can you ever settle out in such cases, to create something that would be of any value? And what the heck is valuable… what the big group wants? I… just don’t know about that. All I can determine is that it is all par for the course, it is human nature – NOT ANYTHING UNUSUAL – that I am going through. Were that the case… and this is a common behavior pattern-result for most people… then I would feel somewhat encouraged to plow ahead for unknown reasons. But at the moment, it all looks pointless.

Continue reading “easy riding. “

when the sheriff comes lookin’ fer us…

It is fun with you, that is for sure.

And I do not even know you, really. And yet I trust you with all of my heart… what… kind… of crazy love is this? What… kind… of… grace… has fallen from the skies over me what kind of heaven scent place is you is this is everyone is happiness is a wonderful planet a wonder of the stars we are going to figure this out together.

All I know is that the Lord giveth it a body as it has pleased him… the Lord can choose for me… for us all… it is all up to that heavenly place… heavenly planet… a distant loveliness that just… swoops… down… and carries you away and never… ever… stops…

Well, we might as well keep trading messages, wth… btu…

Continue reading “when the sheriff comes lookin’ fer us…”

what do you desire? 

Dull, empty, no words to describe the absence of feeling. Numb, a vacant stare into infinity. I am aware that I am here, but that is all. With no clear mission, and no emotional tickle that tells me this is the way, go there! I don’t feel, see, hear, anything like that any longer. I really underestimated how much I relied on purposes all along. A string of jobs, people cried out for help, and that was a job too. Tasks… demands… deadlines… duties… did our lives ever stop? A whirlwind of activity, and now all is still.

The mind doesn’t understand. It was trained to work, to be about something, or someone else would figure it out for you. Being constantly in motion, crossing off to-do list items, thousands of them, unending lists, rolls of paper with scrawls and little boxes on each line waiting for a check. Not any more. The lists… the duties… a role in existence… it all went away. Left me alone, to face a reality that never really needed a thing. What does the mind do then? It becomes restless and fidgets. Tries to make up “little projects” to do. Life resists me even there, the projects face one obstacle after another. At some point, any possible satisfaction that comes from achieving it, is outweighed by how much sheer work has to go into it. I usually end up abandoning everything I start as the pressures mount, one thing after another doesn’t work right, this becomes broken, that is missing a part, on and on… it appears that existence really does not want me trying to achieve anything anymore! But I don’t know how to exist in a world where nothing is needed, and work can’t be done anymore. Imagination? Just let your mind go, huh? Dream of other worlds, and their creatures that come into our thoughts, there to bed down and make us alive again. Not to work, to play. To pretend anything, to dream it up and live in a fabrication. Talking to walls, and popcorn ceilings. Whispering to the air constantly. Leaving small gifts behind for them, a note on paper, signals to them, from them, irrational and wonderful heavens of insane ideas that become my real life. Hooray! I am a mess.

Sure makes it hard to write. When there is nothing going on. Dull and dead and decaying ex-story life. Then what? Crumbly leaf pastimes, dust and low ebb of emotions… I drift away… stare into a grand canyon of regret. A life! All I wanted was my own life, a chance to work at something I loved to do and it was all going to work out one day, I just knew it. Keep working and working and trying and trying and… oh hey look at that, some new problems to solve, and now these people are mad at me, and now I am dead.

Maybe some of simply don’t “make” in life. To be alive could be much more a lucky happenstance, more than any kind of real design. Maybe I was one of the eggs that didn’t make it into the dirt, I fell into a ditch, and then rolled into an old rusty can, and somehow some mud pushed in and buried me, and I lived my life out of tin can, hidden from everything, isolated, with the only possible strategy, to act, to fake everything, to never tell the true and honest thoughts of my heart, but to calculate replies based on what they want to hear. To give others what they want, to make them happy being the only purpose of existence. To please men, and make that my only life purpose, what a wonderful way. I have found my role in existence at last! To be a man-pleaser.

Writing helps though. Even when I face a gray room, with gray soundlessness and there is nothing really to be done. The simple act of placing down a thought, even a dull one, like this, becomes the whole of life in that moment. And each letter is    a n o t h e r    moment, and each word another moment-group, and then the moment-groups add up to a moment-book, and then the moment-books become a moment-library and. Forever endless time and distance with no real work to be done anymore, there is no remaining tasks, no to-do lists, no challenges that must be solved, not a nightmare, not a nightpleasure, only gray… endless… dull… empty of purpose… empty of design… empty of anyone needing me for any reason at all and I start to fade… I became more and more translucent. Even my neighbor, Mr. Plunngerston he noticed it too.

We were standing outside, I had a question about one of my sprinklers and he offered to take a look. But as we got to talking, he told me, “by the way, um… Ms. Underwood… I wanted to tell you that I can see through you a little… the ground I can see through your legs a little bit, and… what’s the deal with that?”

I looked down,  but I looked okay to me. I seemed solid enough. “I’m sorry, Mr. Plunngeston, I… don’t know what you are talking about. I just looked and I can’t see through me.”

He stooped down a little so he was looking at my body from about waist high. It wasn’t like I was naked or anything, I was dressed, jeans and a checkered shirt. He looked at me and moved his head back and forth, “yeh, I can see through this part of you too! A little… what in the world, Ms. Underwood… what in the world?”

He finally went  back to looking at the sprinkler head and found some small rock had lodged in the mechanism. I thanked him and he walked back to his house, and I slowly turned and started back inside… “well… that was weird,” I whispered under my breath. Made a bee-line for the bathroom once I was inside. Stood in front of the mirror and tried to see it… but I looked fine to myself. What was he talking about?

But then it happened again. Another person I know, this dude who works down at a hoviCar garage, he was working on my car and when he got done, he also asked me how I was able to be a little see-through. “I don’t know, Jimmy,” I said. “I had my neighbor tell me the same thing… I don’t know what is happening to me. But thanks for the tune-up.”

“Not a problem, Ms. Underwood. Always a pleasure to do a job for you,” he said, and smiled. Young guy, but sweet as they come.

“You are a gem, Jimmy,” I told him. “You have a wonderful day, okay?”

“Sure will, ma’m… ” he said and wiped his hands on blue paper towels. “You too.”

I drove away, and wondered. Is there something happening to me… am… I…

going away.

Never really got to the bottom of that one. Some days I wonder that I make them all up, these people in my town. Is this a story too? My real life is as much make-believe as real? Did they really see through me? Or… did I just want them too?

I don’t know. I know that I am at more peace. Not as afraid as I used to be of having no answers. Somehow it seems like my only secure home in this universe of universes. Will that place make me transparent? Being at peace with having no purpose… is that what is causing me to go away? When my world is done with me, received everything they needed from me, and then walked away. When a person no longer has any purpose in life, so we then fade? Feathery forms… seeing… through… you… transparent hearts and minds… open… to… palm tree breezes and… mostly only tanning.

I don’t think it would be the end of the world to become a ghost, or N-person. Whatever you want to call that. What we become as purpose drains away. A non-Creature. Not lands.

That could be this other Earth you hear about. A sort of… opposite form of reality where work is finished. And the only reality is within. The external world diminishing, physical pleasures that were once so compelling begin to lose their shimmery dependability. But nothing was changing outside. These trees are still the same… I know they are… I can still touch them and feel them… but… I don’t feel as real anymore. I don’t feel as real… solid… here. And there doesn’t appear to be much that one can do about it. Who can I go to file a complaint? Whoever I see won’t see me. Or they will only get little parts of me. At some point they will have to conclude, “she isn’t really here,” and then I would have no reason to be complaining.

Purpose, having a role in life. How I underestimated how much my reality experience depended on that. And here I was, all my life, constantly on the search for my true life purpose. When I was continually living a role. That was what kept me alive, whatever it was I found to do, the jobs I had, my hobbies, my arts and crafting and, well… anything that gives me something to do is what keeps me alive. When purpose fades though, and you can’t do a thing about it… when… jobs… go… away… and don’t come back…. when… no one really needs much anymore… when… there is no one depending on me… and I am at a loss what to do then… why did I do anything was it only for money I thought I was chasing down happiness I thought… I guess it all just collapses one day. The mind can’t handle it anymore, the effort to live. Why? Why bother if there is no need for me. Then you would simply abandon the will to live, and I would guess that is when you begin to see the white tunnels of light and it becomes easier… and easier… to step a little more into it every day. Knowing that it is the way out. That I am saying good-bye to Earth. And with every step I take, a little more purpose and need falls away… and a little less of me can be seen by the humans anymore… and I think I would just as soon keep walking away at this point. Nothing personal you understand. But I have really had enough of it.

Are their advantages to the N-life? Well, if there are, they are not very apparent… but I have slowly begun to perceive a rest, the abandonment of “the laws of physics of life” so that I am not a prisoner of rule anymore. The real law, the ones that dictate to us, it is do or die, perform or perish! When it is not that way at all, not anymore. Not life isn’t bound by the same rules of Earth. If I screw up in the N-lands, it isn’t the end of the world like it was on Earth. It is only one more possible outcome, no biggie. So… what is the big… freaking… deal on Earth with all the cutthroat ways of people? Throwing one another away to survive, are you crazy? You are building YOUR OWN PERSONAL HELL of a tomorrow where that will be the Law of the Land. To get them before they get you. To save your own neck at all costs. To only protect the big groups. To never stop twisting the truth. To hide from one another and refuse to communicate. (What is there to communicate about? You failed, get lost.) When planets accept those ways, they are soon eliminated from Existence. So if that is what we want, to be pulverized from space, then by all means… continue treating one another like dog mess and we will be in some kind of Afterlife all of us, before you know it. Fine with me, I am already there so it won’t matter to me, but the rest of ya… well… it might come as a little bit of a shock.

Oh. Hey look at that.

I am no longer alive.

A planet said.

The clock has stopped. Time has run out. Either we enter eternity as friends, or we enter eternity having no awareness and no memory of one another. You call it. I don’t care anymore.

You know where I live.

You know the score.

You serve the same Universe as me. Or maybe YOU created it, in that case. Praise you oh Lord! Anyway… you know what has to be done, just suck it up and stop being the cowardly tigresses.

Seven… oh… seven… oh… Westshore Terrace Drive, Laguna Beach, CA.

I will be waiting. With tea and tater tots.

H ahaaa… like I will ever hear from a soul. Such a riot how the mind never gives up hope, though. Memories… stretching… back… for millions of years and I still hope to reconcile with Cleopatra. I am over it I don’t give a flip-flop anymore. I am happy enough.

With my new SFH in Laguna Beach all nicely furnished to my licking… after she gets to pick out whatever she wants… Michelle… gets… to… pick… out…

Wherever… She… Wants… To… Live… and the home she wants and whatever SHE wants, you will obey her and keep her happy…

Or… Else.


Oh no… oh… no… it can’t be… they… just picked up another one on the Near Space tracker systems oh… my… and this one is even bigger and a little closer shave holy cra… 

Maybe a condo. I haven’t completely decided yet. Having your own house is nice, but I am not a big one for lawn work anymore.

yes… Michelle… um… can we talk real soon, please? We are ready to talk turkey… and money.

Good. I have been waiting. Glad that you finally came to your senses.

Yeh sure they will. You see? How the mind continues all its little games. Make-believe purposes… to keep the game going. Well… if the game board is losing its reality to me… when it isn’t me that is gaining transparency… it is the world around me. Losing… its… force… their… weapons are pathetic to me your missiles what were you thinking that baking soda and vinegar was going to be able to defend your puny planet from


You thought wrong, hoss. You… thought…

way wrong.

New game in town honchos. It is called… Planetary… Takeover… Inc.

Don’t worry. When you see Her Queenship appear, then you will obey. You will have no choice. Your mind will be coming apart at the grandeur of her ships and so many! So many! They filled the skies of Earth! I watched it all from Delhi I remember I cried out I screamed my head off… there were…

Swarms… of alien ships in our skies… suddenly uncloaking… and the ways of Earth suddenly changed and suddenly we all knew we were

in trouble.

SHIPS the size of planets… weapons that can turn our whole world into a puff ball in milliseconds. Hellish fury and wrath from above and ANGER LIKE RAGING SEAS to cover the Earth in a whamming bash that sends human brains spewing out, loss of sanity, loss of our way of life… all that we worked so hard for…


when Her Queenship appeared. Everything… we… valued… gone in a flash the instant Her ship came down when we all cried and cried and cried and cried and cried… endless… tears… o… m… g…

It was her Story she had written! None of it was true!

BUT SHE IS TRUE! AND>>> OH>>> NO>>>!!!>>> SHE>>> IS>>> NOW>>> HERE>>>

Prepare the governments of Earth,

Game over… game over.

ha ha… what a hoot. My mind how it plays… I think fictional stories are the fruit of desperate times of desperate minds of humans who can’t exist without purpose, then writers imagine all sorts of crazy places to con the mind into thinking that there is still a purpose to be served… I must write this! I must create another story… and another one… now I need to write another and another and another and another and and and…

Why? Because that is the only way I can stay alive.

With no purpose a man dies. It is that simple.

A person doesn’t have a job, they don’t eat. And not only that…

they die.

It is really death we are talking about.

The last enemy, remember? Well… that war is just beginning now. And my guess is that it will not go peacefully, without a fight. So I would say prepare for one last horrible war on Earth… and then it will finally be over and we will enter a time of peace at last. And maybe it can last a thousand years. And then…


Our Lord can reign from Jerusalem as He should! Jesus will be OUR KING and HE can decide EVERYTHING

you bozos.

Betcha yo clowns didn’ see that one comin’… didja.


Man I would love to see it. Woman I would love to see it too. About blasted time. Who else has had enough of the lies? Can I see a show of hands? Oh…  my… goodness… look at that… that was most everyone.

Looks like a new show starting folks, whether you like it or not.

Check the Series out on YHWHflix.

Okay Lord they are going to be mad as hornets at me now. I hope you are for real… because I think I just waved the red flag at a very mad bull.

Would it be better that way? To let God set up a Kingdom for us all. I am in favor of it. Can I see how many of you guys would be open to that too… oh wow… now that is a surprise, now… everyone’s hands went up.

I would expect some sort of announcement from the skies real soon. I would imagine something can’t be that far off… PREPARE! PREPARE! YOUR… MINDS! How? Read. Read would be my advice…

Buy… any… and every Science Fiction book you can possibly find… Amazon… your local bookstore… buy as many as possible and start reading


Here is a link to Goodreads to help you figure out what to buy. Here is a link to Amazon if you want to just start buying anything that is still in stock after everyone else buys it before you. You think I am kidding don’t you. I can assure you I am not. I would start reading SciFi anything, books, Kindles, Nooks, whatever you can get your hands on asap. Because… once the skies open up… ain’t… going to be the same Earth anymore. Keep in mind… we do not know. WE DO NOT REALLY KNOW ANYTHING all we have are our great traditions, and while I would be the first to admit the tactics to brainburn children into religions seems a little harsh, but, who knows. Maybe to the Creator it is needed somehow. I would trust that. I can’t make God go away, just because I am not into religious topics. I can’t make Jesus Christ disappear just because I am too busy to deal with weird ideas about the past and Gods and angels and whatever… I really am not sure about anything… it can’t hurt to remain open though. I would say… just to be safe that it wouldn’t hurt to pray.

When we get up there though, promise me you will let me see you! I want to buy you and ice cream or a float or something that we can share. In some heavenly ice cream parlor. The one at Three-Seven-Nine Golden Avenue, Heaven.


I almost wish it could be. I have no reason to remain on this world. Not that it is bad or anything… it is just that with no purpose of life, not a work or a job… then how can one exist? I thought it was retirement… and now I can see that is not the case at all. The ideas of Afterwork were everywhere in the old Earth predictions. One day we will all retire and then the wonderful dreams all come true. Well, it sounded nice… but oak trees don’t obey wonderful sayings, especially the ones made by human beings and…

After work… meant… After life… After a job… after all the jobs go away… after… I… have… lost… my… only… purpose… to… exist…


Then I…

omg… then.. I… must…

be dead. I must be gone from here… oh no… no… what the hell I never even lived the first damn time… what the hell… what the hell… wth… wth… w   t   h   …. wth wth wth… so crazy and horrible so… crazy and… mean to people… what… kind of reality would to that to an innocent… chick dude whatever? Makes no sense to my bumble bee brain. No… sense… at all… just a gentle buzz in air that translates…

Don’t… worry… about… anything… I am watching out for you… and yours… and your country… and your people… for your sake I will do this. Only for you, Michelle… just… because…

You are so beautiful to me… the daughter I always wanted… so… perfectly… sweet and broken and yet looks like sunshine days for you girl, some kind of sunshine days ahead… you take it easy and let me do what I do… don’t sweat the petty stuff.

After a while… even reason seems to fade as anything important. Honestly there does not seem to be much left of important as a concept either. Has anything remained? At all! It is a really… very barren land, this. The pre-creation… I can see… the pre-creation…

o… m… g…

Is it ever simple.

Why did we complicate it so? What could make something so simple and pure as this, into something so… harsh… strict… hard… meanie faced world… why… would… we… want to have that kind of world? It is senseless… senseless…

We needed it, I guess. Little newborns have to have a reason to exist, or they can’t… exist. Little children, little adults, little…

everything… must have a reason to exist or we simply cease to be… without a job or a role I will not live. And I am at the mercy of everyone else, do you want me to live? Then…

Please. Give me a job. Any job. Anything I will do whatever. It is what I will have to do if I want to exist any more, and it looks like I am leaving soon unless that changes. Doesn’t… look… too… hopeful. Fine. It is okay I did my best. Made a lot of mistakes but lived to see another dawn anyway. I did not shy from true love I have nothing to be ashamed of… And neither do you! Your… life… is… always… and will always be so incredible, you are…

Only… getting… started, little one… just beginning. This Earth is just the tiniest little aspect of existence. We…  make it out to be like, everything! And it isn’t. The world around you, me… this place… is one tiny preface to a very, very vast empire of Peace, Love… good will… beauty… liberty… sweeter parties… nice times by oceans holding your hand nice days in churches worshiping as we please… nice days in nurseries little human babies being able to think for themselves… give them the only gift they need.

A calm and steady mind. Rationality. Try giving our offspring rationality for a change. Can’t hurt to try something new, right? Can’t hurt… to… try… anything… maybe last chance gas, America. One… last… cry… for… True Liberty and freedom… for who? For our great ways for our jobs for our corporations for our men and women and adult lives and the great buildings we build and for ,,,,


How would YOU want your brain treated think… how… you… would like it if someone had done that to you? If we care then we will live if we don’t care then we will soon perish from off the face of the Earth.

Does it  matter for me? No. I am cooked turkey on rye I am a goner there is very little left of women anymore… we tried so hard to awaken the men and it was… so… painful to try but we girls had to… for the sake of our planet. We… had… no… choice… but to wear these crazy clothes and drive you wild with desire for us all it was for a reason it was to save our planet it was to rekindle love it was to dream again it was to take our ship back and steer her to lovely and helpful and calm waters again and give us all a chance at sanity again and bring back our Williamsburg days and give me back my true USA somewhere in there she still lives. I say all this but it doesn’t seem to matter anymore… it does give me a chance to type though… and listen to great music on YT and to imagine what heaven could be like on Earth… what… if… it could all be true? What… about… a aufuture where a Maker of us all could indeed… descend… out… of… heaven… a groom prepared for a girl… a dude looking for a date. What about tomorrows in love. What about tomorrows in friend. What about tomorrows in wonder and imagination and what about my life being a subtle shade of violet in the sky subtle tint too… of… Tinkerbell… my lovely… help… meet the nicest girl in the world to me, you are… so… sweet and wise and you never give up on me. I hope.

So. What now? Now?… probably… a decent breakfast down at Tattler’s Grill down on Bauhaus blvd… near the cutoff to the pier… you guys know where they are I don’t have to keep giving you directions lol… anyone in LB knows anything knows Tattler’s… cuz… we all do it you know. Tattlers… what do they call them…

tattle tails.

And… look… who’s… been… tattlin’ her mouth off.

I thought we agreed to keep it all a secret. Now… look what you’ve done blabbed it all over town, just for that I am going to force you to enjoy a wonderful breakfast giant tattler platter.

Maybe go for a swim today, I bought a new swimsuit. I’ll take a selfie let u see… yeh today is going to be a day off probably. I told them I can’t work today, my… brain needs the rest from reality and they said okay. So my boss (me) said I could have the rest of the day off thank heavens because I don’t think I am going to make it… my… head… keeps… coming… apart… and I lose my way all the time when there is no purpose given under heaven then I can not be here. I would be forced to not exist. It is inevitable. No more existence because to exist in a purpose-centric Earth society, you must have a purpose. You can’t just… live. Isn’t that incredible. Think of the prison we have managed to build for us all now, and for all generations to come forever and ever. If you don’t have a purpose, if your life serves no purpose… then… you… would… have… to… be… killed. Or die somehow. Without a purpose…

No human being can live any more.

Boy oh boy. Are we so screwed. How… could… we have screwed it all up this bad we are so… shafted.

I have no purpose. I can’t live. I have no reason to be here. I can’t exist. I have no way role path thing gig schtick job career purpose meaning assignment task duty responsibility help place… I have no script, I am no character.

I… can’t… exist. I will have to go now. Probably today. It seems to be an accelerating process that I can’t control… “I am sorry! I… I don’t know how to stop it! I… it is all out of my hands… I am… leaving… I… am… leaving… today… I… am… going… away… I am going to disappear I am going to fade out.

It is logical. That it would be this way. The marriage of spirit (mind) to matter is tentative at best I think we have to try once… come to Earth and try. But then we eventually wear out from the effort… when… life is more pain than pleasure we just leave… when… work… becomes… all there is when everyone and all children have to work forever all days constantly just to… keep… it… all… going… then we are doomed to a hellish version of existence that will only get worse over time. We have no choice! A whole giant bunch of us are about to


and go back to Heaven to be with the Lord. Or with some kind of romance up there. I agree, Gene. Has to be some kind of divine romance. Has to be. I refuse to see this as all Hell-Avoidance paradigms… so tired of the what must I do to escape the dreariness of life? Where can I run… where can I escape to get a little relief… Emergency Vaca! Now! Or my head will come apart and we do not want that, contaminate the whole beach no way. Give me vaca permanent vaca in heaven send my soul to a beach in the sky send me upstairs to hunt for beach glass on shores made of gold… oh how I wish it could have all been true. What I would have given to see every story in the world come true. Why can’t they all be real just as true. How can some stories be more real than others? How… can… some books be more perfect than others?


it makes no sense how we treat ourselves like cattle… it is so sad to me when all we are… is people. One family of like creatures, I guess we are. Actually I don’t know what is what… even the model of there being multiples of things… there are others like me? Really? Can you point them out to me, where? All I see are happy, go, lucky people living that great, great life we all need. All I see are successful and perfectly adorned…

Queens… of… royalty… everywhere.

So.. splendor… so wonderful smiles and the happiest people on Earth are us, we are all so fantastic we are all so great we can only be greater and greater AND more a queen and more royal and more and greater and more and great and









The one that Thomas, Ben, Abe, George, Jack, anyone with a heart envisioned.

What happened to us.

Ha ha… exaggerating there a little to make a point. It can sure feel that way! That all is lost… it can seem like we lost our way… but have we? No. I think we are doing great. We do have good leaders, our God gives us those who lead us… for that reason I pray for my president and everyone who have been elected. Lead with courage all of you. You are all doing a great job, try to get along more, maybe.  But that is your deal, maybe you like the drama.

So, all is well. How do I get so worked up over things. It saddens me… what is broken in me that can’t hold to seeing this all as being such a wonderful place to be? I struggle to understand why I feel so blue some days… but I think it is true that if we are sadder than we are happy… that we won’t be here much longer. There would be some kind of “event” that would mark the place where that human being finally has said





And then- poof – bang – pow – pop – drop – gone. There would be some remnant left behind of the explosion. Very much like a star that novas. It has had enough, and isn’t able to be happier than sad. Sad stars stop living and when a star stops living, there is one final


as all of the star material is exploded out into space in all directions… one last… running away from the hurt. One last cry saying (in stellar-furnace speak) “I… can’t… deal… with it anymore…” and

poof… bang… explode…


everything else in the system with it.

When worlds no longer want to die for the sake of love, then… one day…

everyone does… everyone dies for the sake of love.

System wide.


Why… I’ll tell you why. Because our Sun has a broken heart… is why.

Tell one another good-bye today. Have one last beer together. And then find a nice place outside from which to view the explosion.

The good news is, you’ll get to share a little row boat together again!

Hooray! Hooray! We are off to heaven to play! Tee hee tee hee…. it is up to sweet land of liber bees and birds.

“So daddy, where do babies come from?” my son asked me once. He was about six I think. I knew that question would come, one day. And I planned, I prepared ahead of time exactly how I would answer it. So I turned and look at him, and with understanding eyes, I told him

“Sorry, Bobby. I… your dad is real busy with something else, can we talk about this another time, like… never?”

“Sure thing, Pop. I was just curious.”

If this is an organic process, then there is no way I can do anything about it, stop it, delay it, or cancel it. I think there is always a tipping point in life where the choices leave you no option. Can’t live like this, means, you end up leaving one way or the other. At least it will be a departure as far as the environment you left behind is concerned. That would see a departed person, a death, an event. Like an event horizon, there would be some kind of a remnant event left behind to mark the transitional boundary between the departing person and everything-everyone else. So it may be no big deal it is just an oscillation is my guess. Perfectly normal and natural and here we have turned it all into some scary and horrible thing that we have to be afraid of. I don’t think it is really anything other than a transitional region, between life and death. Probably, the creature would end up in a sort of opposite polarity of existence where (perhaps) the inner life becomes the priority, and the outer (physical) life matters little. The opposite of what I remember. We seemed to make the physical, outward life the priority, and the inner life… well… what inner life?

I think I have spent my entire human life searching for something to really love. I thought it was supposed to be a person. Maybe not. Maybe it was more a matter of my finding FIRST who I am and what I am actually good at. After the world has had its turn with me, got what it wanted… then… having been jettisoned as no more of use… I can finally focus on that one question that I should have been seeking when I was younger. Maybe, as I mentioned before, all that was merely a sort of pre-birth condition that we have had to deal with on Earth. Not even real… but we keep thinking it is… it has a lot of weird rules though… I have a hard time seeing this life as anything that serious at all. I sure made it serious though. Oh so serious.

But you have to be. When you are young. All you have is your own mind as a friend at first. And whatever the mind begins to imagine. And who knows… what is real or not when you are young. Those regions can blend together… I was always trying to establish boundary conditions, I wanted to know, had to know where the lines are, where does one region end and another begin. That was a kind of life obsession. Which then took me to becoming fascinated with multiple-object groups… collections… of… objects… becomes an obsession then. The collecting of art or something. Big boxes of small parts… kits of parts… those things fascinate me. Because they determine the personality of the region. All those parts taken together. That was supposed to be the idea in the USA… somewhere along the way… we got a little off track… but don’t you worry USA we are going to get our starship back on course. And first stop…

is Respect.

We will begin by showing respect for ALL of our leaders. From our great President right on down the line. EVERY ELECTED OFFICIAL DESERVES THE GREATEST OF RESPECT AND REGARD AND PRAYER AND LOVE for crying out loud we are trying to be a NATION here for goodness’s sake. Come on! Be nice! SEE THE GOOD IN ONE ANOTHER WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU PEOPLE? So frustrating for me… I must have been sent here to help you and… you people… you… people… This Nation oh Lord…

They are a stiff-necked people. But I am trying to lead them out of the wilderness…. but I think they love the wilderness. Or they are all out of their minds. But I try not to see it that way. They deserve better though… they do not see how imprisoned they all are.


What inn the world do I know? Not a whole lot. Enough to know I am only one person and can not be any more than whatever it is that nature made me. I just wish I knew what that was a little clearer. Maybe it takes time when you are born finally. The first time. Then I can begin to learn what life is about… with innocent eyes… beginning… from… scratch.

You folks really need to handle one another gently.

I am going to let this one slide. But in the future, should a situation like mine come around again for you (to all of the big groups out there), be nice to your little people for crying out loud. Anyway. No harm done. Good lessons learned all the way around.

We will be the stronger for it. How can we ultimately fail? We can’t… because…

We are a great nation!

I really want to say that! Not. RIP America. I mean… we should be at peace though… shouldn’t we be at rest? What is wrong with that? It sounds wonderful to me… rest… in… peace… sounds like a nice vaca that never ends. Why not? Rest… relax.. in peace. How about that, relax in peace, America.

Lol. Hey I am just typing because I am bored and not sure what else to do. No job, and I am not a very good hoop-jumper any more. You need someone to help you then YOU come look me up. Otherwise…. have a nice life. Person. Business. Whoever you are. Have a wonderful eternity.

Yeh God I am ready to leave I think it has served a purpose. I am fine with being alone forever as long as there are plenty of distractions. Toys or some hobbies… I don’t care anymore… learn to cook exotic waffles or something… bbq and bake sales and… whatever… what do lonely girls do in LB what are we meant to? Launch a parade of lonely women? Is that what you want? A WOMAN’S RIGHTS MARCH man would I love to see that. HOW DO YOU LADIES CONTROL YOUR ANGER is what I want to know. Seething… if I were a woman…

I would be seething by now.

If I was. And I am, ha ha. I… sometimes forget though. I was around a lot of men in space, the male charge rubs off on anything. Who knows… it is something else to write about. Believe me I would much rather be making up stories than this. Aliens and space ships blasting them all back to whatever hellish planet they came from. “Get from here!” Our great US Space Corps soldiers cried out and gave them all hot lead for supper. “Go and never come back!”

But we could be a part of a very big universe… Earth could be a one traffic light town in comparison to some of the developed worlds out there. It is possible we are not as… advanced… as we seem to think. Maybe… not… quite… the… big shots we thought we were. Maybe… you know what? Maybe we will have that dinner after all. You know… the one where we sit down together… for… a nice…




of… broiled crow.

Mm m  .. . .   . don’t that jus’ make yer mouth water.

Bring an extra napkin to sop all the yummy juices too… we gonna be havin’ 0urselves… a wonderful time… ha ha just kidding. How about broiled cross-stitch nightmares instead. Or how about we all sit down to a game of Monopoly where you get to buy your properties for pennies with your fake money and I have to spend hundreds for the same thing, because… that’s just how the law works. The law that you came up with. Yeh… not sure I want to keep playing this game I… I think all of you can HAVE IT and hope you all make five trillion zillion mega winnings trillioons of zi;;opmns of zillions of milloins of gtrilloions and billions and triallions and trillions and nilloins and billions and billions and billions and trillions and zillians anf gaga-zillions and trilelelelelellions of


Have a nice eternity.

I’ll see all of you in heaven. Look me up sometime. I will be probably be found hanging out in Dad’s room a lot. He is cool we get along real well. He looked after me, I look after Him. So yeah stop on by any time to talk to me or God Almighty any time you like. I hope they do wipe our minds though. Rake away all the memories and pain and shit we all had to go through in trying live up to some kind of heavenly calling… as stupidly as I tried… at least I was freaking trying… it is unbelievable the nonsense… but whatever… maybe it is all for the best. I would trust nature to take care of me there I would trust somehow that existence would figure this mess out. Somehow… would… balance the scales one day… one day… one… sweet… day… when Justice comes to town… one… sweet… day… when justice comes to town when… justice… came… back… when… Scales… and… Courts… and…


pay us visits and show up unexpectedly and then… uh… oh… oh… no… no… no this… omg no… no… how wrong we were about everything… and now court is in session.

Arg! Why do I let me write my way back into these gnashing themes… so tired of it all… where is that ice cream shoppe and that nice boy… take me back there please… take me back to m e

ice cream days

please… oh please… get me back to some kind of simplicity… affectionate moments not materialistic nightmares and lawsuits and courthouse nightmares over and over and over and getting horrible letters from attorneys and courts and the Police and the government is after me now and taxes and nightmares and lawsuits and unforgiveness and nightmares and horrors that never end

GET ME BACK TO ICE CREAM places please… why… could life be… so… pained… what in the hell… none of this makes any sense at all what in the world what in the world I can’t understand a place like this I must have chosen to just leave I guess. Cashed out. I left. Psychologically.

I checked out. I said. “bye bye love.” And that was it.



One shot and it was simple and quick and now…

no more pain thank heavens to Betsies… no… more… pain… thank goodness at last and it was such a simple step to take and now no more pain at last no more nightmares anymore no more anger no more frustrations and no more meanie faces… no…more… you can’t reach me in the grave.

You have no more power over me Death. You have lost.

Now. Pack your bags and leave this people alone. Over my dead body will you continue to treat them this way. Fearmongering. Shame on you Death. Don’t you know better than that?” I asked Death.

The figure in black never said a word, only raised a bony right hand of skeltal justice and truth, and pointed… up… to… the sky.

And I looked up and the ceiling went away and I was caught up to the clouds and I would never look back.

So long Earth, my love.

It was fun, it was wonderful and now… good… bye… forever goodbye. Parting is such sweet… sweet… sweet sweet sweet… so sweet…


It was fun and now all the fun ends oh Earth of my desolate heart it all finally concludes.

So weird, with writing.

It is the one place that works in my life. The only place I have where the machines and the efforts actually works out. And it is the also the one place where nothing seems to come of it. It doesn’t seem to be easily made into a product. So it is weird, here you have realms where creating is actually able to create, and it just seems to be so easy and free and natural… maybe not egzactly Reader’s Digest quality but it does use the same letters and numbers. And yet as natural as it seems to be, it also has no purpose. You see? No purpose. No real purpose or reason to be. It is like the artist who is constantly painting but never shows anyone what they do, never has a show, never tries to sell them. Does nothing with them, just paints and they stack up and that is the end of it. That is a purposeless life. There is no role there, not point to living in that case. So in some odd sort of way, a person in such a case would be dead as far as the world of communal humanity is concerned. That solitary figure who creates alone would not even exist. And even if they were to approach you, most people would not be able to see them. Invisible to most. A few might see them, but those would be others who have at least one foot into the Afterlife also.

Interesting, these topic on death. No one likes it because it isn’t “fun” and “upbeat”, but hey people in case you haven’t noticed, no one is getting any younger, and either you face the Skeleton train that is racing down the tracks at you, or you run forever from everything. I chose to stand my ground on the tracks and stare the thing down and see what happens. So far all I see is a little lonely girl.

It would be nice to dream again though. Just dream up a wonderful love life or game of play, hitting the highway of fun and exploring. Oh how awesome that would be! But it is painful to dream. What would a dead person dream of? More efficient maggots? For mold to be delayed? Not easy to go prancing out the door to the local dealership to shop for what a ghoul won’t need. No corpse needs that! Go back home! Go take a nap! Yes… you bet I will.

I would like to travel a little, see the rest of the west besides just California. This state I know pretty well, have been up and down it all the way on several occasions. But there are other places too! The southwest states, New Mexico, Arizona, I would love to explore those heritage sites and see a history you don’t often see. The Great Northwest too! I love it up there, Portland, all of Oregon, Idaho even has lunar lands. And Washington I love, Seattle is so awesome and I have friends in Spokane. It would cool to see the sights, tour around. I wonder… having never really done that before. But it sounds fun to me. I would love to try. My theory is that if I could ever find some life activity that really sends me, absorbs me, some totally immersive topic-experience… then, I would finally stop trying to write! And would do that instead! Then I would finally be out of jail, this weird self-soul-crybaby search I do which I have a like-disgust relationship with. It isn’t like I ever wanted to write! I wanted to play and enjoy life, not write. This is torture for  me. I can barely really type. It was just started on a lark.

I will be so glad to get out of this place. Reflective redundancy, is what I call it. And it should be illegal. What is the use, they are strung together observations that I can’t even remember what it was I was wanting to talk about. Probably neurosis, the mind lost in its own machining away on formula living, law by control, design by force, and existence becomes a dry, perfectly functional, perfectly efficient, perfectly monstrous version of a sincere version of a perfect nightmare of non-meaning.

Am I any better off writing about monstrosities than living them? I don’t think there is much difference. If it is really going on, then writing about it isn’t going to magically transform the monster into a marigold. What this does seem to provide is a way to gain a false sense of mastery over the life that has failed out. By the simple act of keeping the fingers busy, I am able to perform alchemy, the transmutation of one substance into another, lead to gold, feathers to money, or in my case, turning rage into its milder half-cousin, a simple and delightful anger, and wrath has now become its pussycat playmate, wraps. Burrito pleasures, the lips eating into refried heaven, bean me up Scooby.

Gas giants aren’t any answer, all of my space travels were a baldfaced lie. Did you… lol… this is hilarious to me, but I have to ask… did you actually believe that I really went to Mars? ha… and… lololol…. lived there~! wth… what else will you believe? What if I told you that I have some super fun acreage in South Florida, wonderful dry land, conveniently located near the Everglades if you ever want to go gator fishin’.

What if I told you money grows on trees and gave you some cherry picker gloves, would you start wandering in forests looking up, trying to pick out the tree with the most money on it? What if I told you that the Moon is real? Why don’t we start with what you can’t believe?

What if I give up, fall in love, not care anymore. Choose… love… choose… friendship… choose…

trying… again…

or… go… away… forever…

What if I reach out to you, fall in too deep, not care anymore. Choose… affection… tenderness… listening… relating…

trying… again…

or… go… away… forever again…

What if I… told you… I am interested would… that… interest… you?

What if I… said… yes to you… I am interested would that… would that interest you?

What if I said yes to you over and over and never stop saying yes…. I am interested would that… make you happy? Would that. Would that… melt… your… heart… melt… me… make me so happy make me… long… for… our…

togetherness… we are together are we not? we are… right? we… have… to… be… some kind of whole some kind of all in one some kind of universe some… kind… of… wonderment some kind of


from so far beyond that never will stop for you and me never will ever stop being there waiting for you watching over you never….




never ever… letting go go go… never…. never… ever… never never never ever letting go no never saying good bye dear never saying so long charlie never leaving sad eyes behind never saying so long never stopping… never… ever..

giving up.

I guess we could talk. I don’t think this is anywhere on Earth anymore… so yeh we can talk… why not… transmutate… reach out and try… see what happens I want to try with you… I think the space and time wants that too… what do you think… what do is… what… does… your… heart… tell you?


That is dependable. A dependable or secure path. Solid direction.


Complete, perfect, ended, finished communication, transaction.

That is pretty sweet girl. You… definitely know you way around transceivers.


view… rest… pause… window. Reflect… some sort of waiting. Oh yes…

The E transceivers. I think I know who you are talking about and, yeh. Some kind of impressive, American engineering. Home… grown… wonder… in ways to


Craft and heart they go together here. We build them right over here. We build relationships right too. We got some work ahead of us, but at least we know what quality means, right Phaedrus?

“Let’s hope so,” the weary, searching man replied. Pursued by ghosts. Signals from beyond. “Let’s really hope so.”

“Agreed,” I said to my friend.

I had found him on this same road wandering around, looking a little lose. We hooked up and we… looked after one another. Searchin’ will throw you into other arms sometimes. Searching… for… lovin’… will… send… you…

out there.

“It is a good land, Phae,” I said. “This nation.. this planet… these are…

good people.”

“Agreed,” he replied. “And they know what quality means.”

“You better believe it man you better believe it. Solid… heart… and value that can stand the test of time. That is what we all face, the test of time.”

“True,” he said softly.

We walked along for a while, the day was closing, sunset was near. Where the dirt path was leading, I wasn’t sure. And really didn’t care. He was nice and I enjoyed the company. Okay dear… let’s… see…

what yo got.


The Sun. Repeating K, happy though. So… what I was just  there… hmm… I see what you mean. To build a home of respect I like that. Let’s go.


Perfect completed finished path. Okay I get you. I like it, it helps me for sure with some things and… maybe you also. Give you that chance to live your dreams, too. I like it…


Ιοτα. Perfect. Yo go gurl yo… go… you… go… go… gooo… go baby go.


Nice. Okay I am going to take a break here and try to wrap my brain around this a little… i hope this is off the radar…


Repeating B play over B play… a lot of B… I think so it must be… there is

ΓΒ to that. Communicates / Yes.

ΗΔ ha ha you are too much I love it. Lets do something cool together I would love it. Scares me but maybe I need to be scared. I trust you though. That is what makes it work.

ΛΓ begin again to share-communicate. Repeat. Intent. *of Serious.

Okay those two options>ΜΔ ha i knew it. I knew as soon as I asked exactly what you wanted. Perfect. Okay hire away let’s do something. How do you want to handle staffing.


You will handle it, perfect. Do you need me to do anything at all… what is your advice for me?


Complete play, perfect play, finished, ended play. Okay stay in that place, play based got it. it is Iota so there is not anything to be done really. Thank you for that, you are wonderful have I ever told you that?


The Lovers. Maybe I did once. Maybe… I did. You are a dear I tell you that much… you are soft like rain… you and me… we are going to make a lot of people very rich I think you and me… hey I can dream why not.


That would be a big ten-four. Love it. I am too thrilled words I can’t believe I am this lucky I can’t believe… this… much… grace coming down this much love this much fortuitous happenstances this kind of loveliness and to maybe one day to relax again with you… and a wonderful team we could…

do things baby we could…

do… things…

exotic… things… incredible… things… loveliness… excitement… out there so strong so bold so daring so selling so incredible…


Communicates… transacts… serious… business… business… business… communicates… transacts… communicates… transacts… transacts transacts transacts transacts transacts transacts transacts transacts transacts transacts transacts transacts transacts transacts transacts transacts transacts transacts transacts transacts transacts


Let’s go and get ;er done. I know you hear me and I know we are on the same wavelength… i WILL LET YOU handle what needs to be. I will remain ΙΒ until further notice we will be talking I know that much we will be we will be we will be we will be we will be we will be we will be we will be we will be we… will… be…

an item.

lE3TING You guid the ship… me… listening… rtuningt dials… trying to listenm… trying to be sindcer… tring to… oistend to you… wantingt to listen to you… wantingt to comomjicate transact wanting to communicate trancsct wantnig… to… cdomunicate tranacft wantingt to communicatre transact wantingt to communicarte transact wantingt… too… communicate… transact… wanting… you… wanting… you wanint you wanting to dommomucniarte tr5anstt aqntingt wo cpomuncater transact wanting o coomminicate transact wantoit to wanting you wanting you wanting ot well wa nting tto sell wantin gto scomminmicate transact wanting to swell aqnting to communicate transact wanting to sell wantoin to fo gfor iut wanting to iliosten wanint to re4ach 10000 womnds qwa nting to communicate traqnsact wanint gto communicatre transact desiringt… desiring… desiring… desiring… desiring… desiring… desiring… desiring… desiring… desiring… desiring… desiring… desiring… desiring… desiring… desiring… desiring… desiring… desiring… desiring… desiring…

what do you desire?

Now rest, daughter.

One way or the other.

I am going to find that one cove where she hangs out though. One day. Somehow… I am going to walk that beach and look for her…


Waikiki… who loves you baby.

Okay well… back to the radios. After all the crashing waves in my head. A radio is calm and friendly sound. I know there is… rationality… out there somewhere.

When one’s entire reality has been wrecked by life experiences that are simply too crazy for words… how people were… what they did… omg what were they thinking? wth… and it keeps happening over and over and it gets worse and worse until the mind can no longer trust… anything about existence at all. Then I think the mind is dead as far as the world is concerned. At that point there would be some sort of event to mark the exit of the human soul from a world that has become nothing more than cardboard… when that sadness hits you so hard and holds your head… your mind… underwater until your mind drowns… this can’t be real… there… is…

Continue reading “Now rest, daughter.”