i used to post all the time.
i started taking 200mg of seroquel and a blue oval abilify to go to sleep, quell the ghost bugs.
Sleeping well now, and eating some.
Producing endless rhymy word salad, weird side effect i guess???
'it is only held together by the force of knowledge, like horse radish burns the night halo; around a mouse engine turned to 'stop' the walls have ears; give me a leaf, mr president, a flower in the damn, sense in the watchpot; after a built arrow flow through solid tubing, and expanding world the size of fries and a hamburger tune-up with gravy, you need a hair icicle beam into the future, retro-silent'. 'Acorns hung from the tops of trees can invert the weather; (acorns move freely on the ether.);' The horse is frozen; frozen from the altitude, frozen out of the race. One more stop for the onderdonk house, alone in the twilight, where a candle burns and a heart glows, song of fire coming up from underneath the ice. (Across the barbeque I stretch the meat and the flesh sizzles.) Calm, I wait in silence for the question, the completely unknown question mark, the unknowable that is just over the wire so that even infinite mind cannot know, that is the one question mark I am waiting for, cold in the new non climate and walking around with closed eyes, flooded lungs, brave heart, and closed mind. in the silent darkness a small traveler waves an icy wand -onderdonk on a rooster walk across the picnic table location - North of San Fran, south of Cisco! The zigzag design that entrances the porcupine: you don't smear next year, & keep the hyperbubbles pumpin .it's the relationship between good & universe, bad & kingdom. (abducted by aliens cause I asked them to tell me a story, monsters come drawing paradise screens on the air; they were out fishing anyway and I just swam up to the hook. lightning justified, release unknown....) Horses take their place at the front of the line, dressed for forever in lightning parade costume, and hearing their bells, saturn starts turning; calling down birds of forgetfulness into the tree of mind, & flying wide into the candle's nest in a glorious dream of heaven's light, patterns come slowly down, bringing currents of energy on fantastic rivers of connectedness; molecular caverns rounded by the grace stream, many gardens twinkle in the icicle current, burning tornadoes of madness twisting on the garden wind. The castle of forever has a mindless glow, freight train of understanding completely blocked by the snow;floating armies surprise hostile neighbors with a face that heals the iron water, on the golden hospital floor where we serve the poison cure, in a worldwide kingdom of ancient purpose. Fry the frog slowly, and push the horse forward with the cross wired essence of the dream. Gruesome shade on the lime seafloor, light another candle, take another test; wise bubbles of sea-floor assuredness opened out into the darkness, take another look; walking beam of silence in a crowd of disarray, on a golden island flowing cross the river "holiday*Riding to work on the San Jose light rail, everybody's staring at their smart phones and tablets:Canyon's mist taking first light, candlestones charge to the lightning booth, where there's an old soul in a yellow home with a garden gnome, unbelievable grow zone;A quiet element beams through the city;Screaming tablets test the minds of monkeys; patterns grow, softly chunking, delivering frantic notions of criticality in a battery-centered world, green with frosty channels, quaking on the grain, dust and travel up and down the lane, critically open, certified sane, and endlessly purposed in the soft flowing rain.Tick like a clock, burrowing through mankind on a bad day; fleas in jars drive their zodiac cars, an example arrives from as far as mars, drivin' down the fleaway;In the sandstorm of function and aptitude, take another test; they told the book to start following you, and now you're a treasure. Find the door in the box, break the key without the locks, turn tornado, empty knocks, and at noon the sudden chance for ecstasy on the wild mile. Give me a wish and i'll make it new again.At its center, the forest bakes its remaining fruit. The captain calls and the tides come alive, temple whirlwind, reminder of actions in the snow that benefit their owners.Quiet in the nursery, cold in the canyon, secret in the mystery civic center tavern. Download all the news, tyrant battle, faceless pattern views, and the quarter horse has lost his better shoes. Their actions are on a time-schedule of justice - the whirlwind learns, the castle comes alive; sit inside and act surprised.The captain of the sea turtles has a lonely reply: planet turns, stomach burns, the captain says "hello".*Walking up mission peak sunday afternoonSun-fried and redolent, a river of Onderdonk Way rides up the back of the grand design, pale beyond green, gone beyond seen, lost beyond certain, gift beyond life, grey beyond black, drip beyond dry; The mountain has IT'S thoughts ONTIME, bubble-berry bursting in the miracle mind. Sensitive to the floor activity, all twinkle in the mountain shine; A heart drinks the sun and lights a candle inside, over canyons full of mystery on trails full of purpose, drinking the canyon's mist and singing noon-tune. At the mountain's center, a fireplace that burns the coal of the understanding, sings a "grow" tune over the bay, miracle stones overturned and on display. In the belly of heaven, poised like a mountain goat, a green nut drops in the belly too soon. Drink the animal cure, the thick wine that's over-pure, bleeding from the dungeons of cycled time; Sound ground down to the boogie-bite, and heart cleaned with mountain song and rhyme, the graceful return begins; find the glitter pathway and smile at the fear going down. Thick with time, the mountain breathes the words, the mixolidean tunnel through the preserve. Scenic patterns wash over dreams and decay*forced to march in the industrial society circus, I stumble and tumble in between the giant steps I have to take, hitting odd keys of psychotic vision in between the lines of consensual reality.It's great to be alive, it's great to have a sound that can break through barriers; my shamanic journey drumbeat capitalizes on the mystery in between the steps, and I begin to tumble...On a mission of fortitude and wide ranging destiny, it's just 'hallelujah' mindlessness and sharp shooters to guard us, while we're king of the phrase, master of thieves, in the psychotic pumpkin patch of eternity, whistling along in a spirit of perfection;With the light of a lion, winter comes, & the price of the filing cabinet multiplies; the forest squeaks with trust, the Eskimos have no phone service, the system is down, candles launching into atom bombs, jets tearing out of the equator - how to journey sensibly between these giant steps? The canyon always has mystery, has crunch, and so you deliberately fashioned a hollow playpen there; without the willfulness of a tomato, or a string bean, it's all potato-kansas-happy-fury-dances, with a plan of attack on the inside courtyard, 'cause when the sauces come together it melts the lightning from the outside bushes. So the corn rises and we "give it its grave"; we're not afraid, we eat the candles in the moonlight. And we'll keep that engine displayed properly on the ceiling, and we'll keep tuning it; gas has purpose on the ceiling it never had on the road; all energy has a purpose: to radiate; and this engine radiates kindness and understanding, with a will to be free.Time's a function of time, and all its glorious roses, laid out like a shrine; outlawed on the frontier, that's why we're getting outta here: penny-arms - pennies sprouting arms in the washer/dryer and now they're taking off like lumberjacks in the plant-plenty, drivin' outta time for a history rhyme, grand design and subtle purpose - finding time to land the plane softly and surely, then it's bottoms up and light the shine..*Frogs on the throne, misty gets the phone: it's freedom in the tower, wearing the license ring, standing next to the research file cabinet, - the cabinet of state, the cabinet of war;a warlike knock at the door at the academy of license and the entire place collapses into a pile of stones, mind re-ordering itself, overhauled its existence like a trout moving out of the farm.But under the wreckage the cabinet still stands; the cabinet holds some strange reasoning, wingless turbines of iciclistic defense, and the sunlit depths of anarchy;Sharp sunlight tunes the signs of the day in the air, motes on the world wide windowsill, miracle cabins of frosty lake obscurity.i see the signs - hope staggers in the breeze, the traffic sings a song about the weather, the forest's strong sense of smell sweetens the universe, trees born of contentment shake in the breeze, and sun, stapled to the trees and holding on like a feather; the sun brings the drive against fantastic iciclistic defense, turning to the stars for evidence.no trial worth catching no glow worth knowing, but from the tower a sign, a song, a rhyme; the whistling glow of kindness separates distance, connects islands across space and time, a subtle subtraction from the ongoing co moving volume, given to distant candle shock broken out of the lightning dock, fused between the cameras in a light cell of unusual proportions, quietly alive, waiting for purpose; we give the county for a steak, and the fork right back, glory in the high life, sparkle in the breeze; (someone has an awful cold, there goes another sneeze;) we're saints in the moonglare, with no time for promising kindness from obscurity lake's soft-plentitude -sea-shore-like abundance.*a babya baby tunes the rocks and sees the storms, as a horse of sandstone rocks the first world; wolf packs anonymously go nobly, slowly, steady, with the grace of a dense wind.in the mackintosh sunset of cool surprises, there's solemn breeze and there's monkey-cry mindlessness, there's gardens of worry and mountains of time, islands of certitude, catacombs of mind, and winding dungeons of "reason"; the mystical enemy draws close; crime takes a bite and believes him; it's educational to watch the lights at christmas time, the golden criss-cross across nothingness. i see that time can't spread the tunelessness; alternative fastens to the darkness and the current wails; shadows of nothingness spike the crystal horizon; a frosty alignment of ducks brings power to the ground, a lonely planet launching timelessness; basketball's in the net, and the winner takes a bow; holding the cannonball of ecstasy and looking for the truth, hallucinating wildly inside a pinball; the long mist typhoon, spit the spoon, time to come back...get the guest inside the door then just knock him on the floor, mindlessness jury of sunshine wonder-justice, glory in the cornfield, salt on the continent, if your mind's closed you can have a farm inside, farm returns to form, a farm of mindlessness and fury, candlestick plan clouding the caterpillar rain, applause array and live decay, lioness-color-sway, the dark engine of time gets the shaving done, and the coroner takes another tune.a decay ray of 49 in the strong witch dungeon cooks away on license day, and the food has the energy and the ripe form of galaxies; at the core, a fantastic meatball waiting to be digested if anyone can open his mind up wide enough., those horns, together i called it "beep candy “ - tracks wither under a parade of horns; elegant in the backsphere, bleeding consciousness, Beep-Candy-Holdup puts the flowers in the gun and they use it like a drum, boxcars full of antidote for the surly summer surprise, the nothingness that goes with blue skies and apple pies;to have a little hand on the mustard seed of time and consciousness, a string pulls phantoms across timeclocks, on the helicopter-chasm frontier, candle alone at night, small miracle stream of light, lasering through a dark blue hemisphere and gliding idly, in a box of twitter feeds and lightning guns, waxing with the bees;a battering ram of sunshine quizzes us, and there's fuzz growing on the buzz: enhance the mind by rubbing the fur sideways; spoon in his grip, he scrapes the stone, micro granite attack storm within the mountain chamber, irrational shine of the music as octopus arms of heaven reaching out to the town below; a powerful molecule cleaner, those wizard rays: from lumbering pines in the altitude divine, thought takes a circle and halves it, bakes it, cuts it up and toasts it; in the saturday-free fever time gets its nerve, violates snowflakes and splashes reserves; in the fungal tavern of consciousness, the stock pin turns, the grave decides, twitter-feeder-bitter-fever-southern-theat
re forces come alive!rocket ships of blueberry pie on a rosemary sky, the jury's lost and the cabin's free, echoes coming from home, breeze forever like a november throne, call the distance, answer the phone, it's heaven's dream, all alone;Warmed once again by a feather of sunshine, we're in the license cave and the candle's burning down, fortress of finitude pinned to the ground; to write on the wind and cut it off at the end, with a puff of white smoke, go fasten a license plate to it and go for broke, round the corner's another tune, another reason-in-time, river of heaven open-topped ferry ride. They wrote the magazine and we bring the wine, thick castles of defense around the shadow climb, withered in the ray, tropical, divine, pellucid, southern license vine; cordon mind off, leak mean guitar, rustic mystic universe, centered on one star, well, it got lost in the kindness sweetheart;watching eyes meet dawn surprise, heaven on the ether, lenin on the square; the major calls at 2, we can't protect the zoo, the mind sees its freshness in the colors of the dream;a soft turkey walks the plumes, the band is shaking from the fumes, the forests share another room, this thread is licensed from the tune;in the diamond array of fantastic decay on top of the day at the south of the bay, dawn consciousness arrayed behind pairs of lights, the licensed dream of cars, from the lead car with a surge of guitar, ferrying sadness across quick tablets, underwater dream, nightmare beam, failure in the cotton, growers in the green; with a green suspicion the license looks clean, forest books burn in a starbucks dream, one-way - reverse, we beam coffee beans; (we spend the beam time with the soft beans of destiny);on the chestnut train to obscure quarters, they go for stardust and seize the day; open eyes bellow in the bubble machine, character development in a savage salvage dog's dastardly dream, abandoned liberty on display, in a deaf car he plays air guitar, we string the cabinet, & cut the cane, and the railroad roars to prove we're sane; heaven won and night just found out, lighthouse amazed, duck glorified, sea turtle warmed up, dreams captured, icicles tamed, wandering cloned, ending threatened, truce overturned, talisman delivered, hypothesis decayed, and golden consciousness of forever-tune and mind-song arrayed in a rabbit-hop, as the mystical inflation of heaven undergoes time-scented maturity, scraping through the storms of eternity. in a grove of knowledge trees, oxidizing safely, the wonder friend and mystagogue, pilot in the ruins, wonder-glad and proud-surround, beaming octopi, polychromatic-merge-fantastic, takes a challenging ride on the santa-field expressway at the beginning of a mission valley day, full of dark carcinogens, happy motes waiting to fly on the wind, absorbed in the mystical anti-space, piercing the silence, that wondrous source of bird song and testament;quiet constitution enters the panic, equilibrium divide, guilty on the vine, slippin out of time; the flow from the grove is heavy with the trove, and license is the candle at the finish line; Savior leader passes the master key, the fire straw reservoir is stocked daily, mercy control on switchback patrol through the diamond preparedness of the rat race, flights of the same uncle, taken alive, the older bear is somewhere on a greedy-nature-drive, mist follows mission mountain protocol; candle alert, corn destiny, ponds of summer arrested by the clever, parcels gliding through town. Write the best moon you can find; turn on the lights, invite the spirits up like mushrooms; then take this book and toss it to the crystalline depths- tower in the graveyard, smother in the purpose, coming down the aisle doing listerine engineering, and back in front of the stack (something happened in the graveyard when the sun was going down); in an auto-kingdom of miles and fries, the monkey takes a punch; soft breeze in a sawdust can, the monkey comes to life (fly in the mooncult, careful on the fries!); in the sam-rich idleness of it all, an idle branch gathers the birds; solid in the tide, growth beneath the waves, the liver-saint in the lightning box, papers on the thin, muscles on the fin, in the 7-mile-bed, the bits defy the head, the swing dance, murky on the shore, running for the door, doing the circle of the hourglass before it’s cycled on the road. Forest in the food, network in the glue, fire breathing klippoth, green truck voodoo; stardust has a peace of mind, molten from the terror ride; air slept through the war and so missed the nomenclature of the candy with the nature of the beyond; we got the calm at the door and the nursery on the floor, and fish are jumping in the waters of the tiger forum - jumping for consciousness-sheen-attraction. on the glory-fortune-stand, captain-grand, the liquid display, took the people away, runtime shoreline in the rays; they're surgin from the synthesis and sizzlin from the idleness, sad ghost stream in the fancy tonsil wilderness, host session candle, gravity glow bar, positive quest delightfulness; in the rain of time we throw mercy on a dime, call it a fine and let it land on a mine; we move on signal and hurry like toads... a cured patient wanders in the darkness, sparking vapor, cherry-blind, drivin the skein, totem force supreme, in the diamond sand of soft equilibrium; we're part of a frozen star, encased in ice called oort, bitter molecule in the hollow sphere, and the seed time within the cloak multiplied the billy goat; have-a-nice-day wizard, super clown in mercy town, schemer on the crepusculum, keepin the corn fed and walkin in time, with a blazin mexican heart, dyin on the freeway, commin round the turn, time to tune another rifle, frightful belly burn. Around the cliffs of kindness the clouds pass gently; in the blessed homes, the kingdom comes to life; (couldn’t cut it with a crystal knife); moral on the fiber, toasted on the wire; rivers swell with justice, lost in sense and time, hollowed out earth for heavenly fluid, freaky pencil climb; I’m gonna do all the dishes then, cause george adores a rhyme; seaside ohio at the fantastic-obervico: fashion on the multi-nail, passion rewarding, freedom pursuing and garden ignoring, freezer-time nation-storing; political-rewiring-tournament-jam, sleek metallic traffic cam, wonder-bridges garbage can; nobody does what smokey can!
Maybe if you blerpity blerp blupity boopy, you could just boopity bamaity wammity, so if you aren't going to derpity derp doop, then just go and floopity flap floop your selfity poop.
People SUCK and I fu#$ing hate them! Nothing but users and idiots, not to mention the animal torture, you lazy pieces of shyte. go fight with yourselves some more, you dumb delusional false heroes, dig, go dig, we can't wait until you hit bedrock.
Judas didnt let it happen, and he was sitting right in front of him, its more of a machine actually, like a living machine, it works a certain way.
Im kind've getting the feeling that they might be arguing with eachother again, i have no idea what that even means or why it was wrttin, made perfect sense at the time, and quite possibly does make sense.
We all have the choice to do what's right or do what's wrong. The problem is we don't seem to know what's right and what's wrong. Judas probably thought he was doing right at the time, or why would he have done what he did?
A guy named Garry Denke posted some word salad a few years ago (probably didn't even know what he was doing). I tried to make sense out of it and the next thing you know I'm hallucinating that there's a terrorist in my home with a gun. It was all quite entertaining until I got arrested for trying to swap cars with some poor lady at a casino. You know what they say, it's all fun and games until someone ends up in the psyche ward.